“What are you doing?”

I look up and smile at Sasha as she squeezes through my bedroom door. She closes it then wanders over to my bed and sits down next to me.

It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’ve spent most of the day working out my plan to get revenge on Cameron. Sasha leans over my shoulder to get a better look. I hold up my list and wait for her to realize, but she still has no idea what the fuck I’m doing. She finishes reading and then looks at me.

“What the hell is this?” she frowns.

I grin and swing my legs off the bed.

“You were right about him.”

“What—” She stops and winces. “Crap. Text guy?” She lays back on my pillows and sighs. “He’s a dud, huh?” she asks sympathetically.

I groan. “Yes, he is, but that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” she asks.

“James, the guy who was texting me? He doesn’t exist. It was Cameron all along.”

“Your stepbrother?” she whispers, wide eyed. She jumps up and starts walking back and forth in front of me.

I nod. “One in the same.”

“But I don’t get it,” she frowns at me. “Did he use a different phone? Wouldn’t you have recognized the number?”

“Maybe, if I had Cameron’s number in the first place,” I say. I shrug. “We’ve had so little to do with each other to this point that I never had the need for it.”

“God, what an asshole,” she rants. She stops and turns to me, her eyes flashing with anger. I nearly giggle because she’s more worked up than I am. “Why would he do that?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.” I raise my eyebrows at her. “The same reason you guys put the ad up in the first place, to mess with me?”

“That was different, we didn’t mean any malice,” she argues, but her cheeks are tinging pink. “Besides, we’re your friends. You guys don’t even like each other. Are you gonna kill him?” she adds. “Cause I wanna help.”

“No,” I say, a smile slowly spreading across my lips. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“A better idea than killing him?” she crosses her arms, skeptical.

I nod. “I’m going to make Cameron think that I’m in love with him,” I explain.

“You’re going to make your stepbrother think you’re in love with him?” Sasha repeats slowly. Then she laughs. “That’s actually pretty good,” she admits.

“And not just happy, every day normal kind of love, either,” I add. “I’m going to make Cameron Hunter believe that I’ve fallen head over heels, fatal attraction, stage five clinger, I want to bathe in his blood, kind of love.”

She claps her hand over her mouth and falls back on my bed, crying with laughter.

“Can you imagine the look on his face?” she gasps. “God, he’s going to die.”

“I know,” I say, smiling. “Payback’s a bitch, right?”

“It’s crazy,” she giggles. “But if anyone can pull it off, it’s you.” She reaches forward and picks up my notebook, studying it thoughtfully. “Is this what you’re thinking?”

I nod. “Just some things off the top of my head that will freak him out.”

She nods her head thoughtfully.

“These are great,” she says, looking back up at me. “But it’s not enough. You need to go bigger than this or he’s not gonna bite.”

I frown at her, my enthusiasm deflating like a popped balloon.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You need to do something big,” Sasha says. “Before you declare your love for him, or he’s going to see right through you.”

“Big,” I murmur, processing her words. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “You’re the devious one. Kiss him or something. Have a moment where you give into whatever it is you’re feeling, and then back right off. Then you can tell him how in love with him you are.”

I grin. “That’s brilliant. I’m starting to think you’re more devious than I am.”

It’s Monday morning and I’m up early, hanging around the kitchen waiting for Mom to get in the shower. It’s the start of my weekend so I should be still asleep, but I’m too excited for that. I know I’m being very juvenile, but he brings out the worst in me. I keep thinking about how I felt when I walked into that bar and saw him sitting there. Finally, Mom disappears into her room. I pounce on her phone and text Cameron.

Paula: Any chance you can come over? I need to talk to you about something x

Cameron: Sure. When?

Paula: Any time after ten this morning, if you’re free?

Cameron: No worries.

I smile and then delete the messages, leaving her phone where I found it. I know there’s a risk he might text again, but I just have to hope that won’t happen.

I sit down on the couch and grab a magazine from off the coffee table. God, I’m so anxious. I just want him to get here already, so I can get this over with. I’m not even sure what’s making me so nervous. The idea of him catching me or the fact that I'm going to kiss him. I’ve kissed guys before. I've even kissed strangers, after the girls dared me to. For some reason, kissing Cameron is different, and I'm still trying to figure out why.

I stare down at the magazine when I hear the door open. It’s been on the same page for the last half an hour, but I pretend to be engrossed in it. I see him out of the corner of my eye. I tense when he stares at me. I look up at him, but I don’t return his sheepish smile. I raise my eyebrows at him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“You mom sent me a message. She wanted to speak to me about something.”

“Right,” I nod. “She told me to tell you it’s all sorted. She found it, whatever that means.”

“Oh, okay.” He stands awkwardly in the doorway, then walks over and sits in the armchair next to the couch. “I just want to say I’m sorry again. I never meant to hurt you or make you feel bad.”

I look at him, then sit forward, so our knees are almost touching.

“I guess I might have overreacted a little,” I mumble. I look down at the rug beneath the coffee table and breathe in, then I release it loudly. “It’s just…” I shake my head and laugh. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No, what is it?” he asks. He looks genuinely concerned about me.

“Maybe it was just a bit of fun a bit of fun for you, but for me…” I let my voice trail off and then I laugh again. “Look, just leave it. Please?”

I go to stand up. He does too, reaching for my hand to stop me walking away. I swing back around to face him and find myself pressed against his chest. My heart races as I look up at him. I’ve lost sight of what’s real and what I’m forcing myself to feel as I stare at those lips.

I lift myself onto my toes and press my lips against his. He doesn’t react at first. I start to pull away but then he starts kissing me back, rolling his mouth over mine. I sigh as he cups my chin, tilting my head up so he can deepen the kiss. I shiver as his hand creeps across my cheek, then he gently caresses my neck, massaging his mouth against mine.

Fuck. I’m enjoying this.

What was supposed to last a few seconds just keeps going on, until eventually, we break away. I stare up at him, my head a whirlwind of thoughts I can’t actually identify. I feel dazed, almost like that kiss was real. Until I remember what I'm doing. I laugh and lower my head, as if I’m annoyed at myself.

“That just made things a thousand times worse,” I mutter. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

I run outside and get in my car, then I drive around to the park. I get out, logging into my email as I change into my running shoes that I keep in my car. I used to jog every day, but since I started working, I’d been neglecting it. I bring up the saved email that I wrote to him earlier and I press send. Smiling, I slip my phone into my jacket, lock the car, and then start my run.

Now all I have to do is wait, then kick things up another level.

I wait until the next morning before I start phase two.

He still hasn't replied to the initial email I sent him yesterday, which doesn't surprise me. He might not have even seen it yet. I schedule emails to send at various points throughout the day. There's about ten of them in total, which become more insecure and unstable as they go on. I’ve also set up a series of texts using an online text messaging service, which makes it seem like the texts are coming from my phone. I’m both creeped out and thrilled that’s even a thing.

I walk into work, feeling pretty good about myself. Cameron is going to be inundated with calls, texts, and messages from me all day and I don't have to do a thing to make it happen. This stage of my plan executes itself. Add to them the flowers and chocolate basket deliveries I have planned. One thing is for sure; he’s going to regret ever messing with me.