Being constantly on alert was exhausting.

Lacy took no time at all to start up the same rumors she did the first time around—some people could be so unoriginal—but Keeley was more concerned that she had something else up her sleeve because Aaron was obnoxiously close to her all the time. It was driving her crazy.

Her only defense was giving up for the time being. Aaron wanted to mess with her? Two could play at that game.

Trying to blow him off and getting angry hadn’t worked; if anything, he became more persistent.

So in the week following his first ridiculous lunchtime display she decided the best action would be inaction. If she gave him what he wanted, he should get over whatever possessed him to show interest in her more quickly.

It wasn’t even hard—all she had to do was amp up her natural tiredness with the situation.

However, her plan worked better than she thought since Aaron thought she needed to go to a spa. She broke cover trying to talk him out of it but ended up relenting because all her efforts over the past few weeks would be wasted if she didn’t stay consistent.

Keeley couldn’t deny that the massage and facial were rejuvenating though she didn’t want to imagine how much this cost.

In her past life, her mother-in-law insisted on going to a spa with a bunch of other socialites for her bachelorette party (everything was an opportunity to network in that family) and she nearly fainted when she saw the bill.

In all her years as Mrs. Hale, she never fully got used to the extravagance. Keeley always felt like a fraud despite her best efforts to fit into high society.

As the manicurist buffed her nails, she wondered how long it would take Aaron to give up once they graduated. Outside of school they had absolutely no reason to see each other and he would be in a different state.

Surely the game would end by then. He would end up with Lacy or some other socialite at his parents’ request and they could live happy little rich people lives, leaving her in peace.

Keeley wasn’t too concerned about being plotted against beyond high school. Once she was off Aaron’s radar, she should fall off of Lacy’s as well.

Fading into obscurity as nothing more than a high school classmate would do the trick. She only had to endure another month and a half before kissing the backstabbing world of the rich goodbye forever.

By the time the manicurist and pedicurist finished, all of Keeley’s nails were painted Tiffany blue and her big toes, thumbs, and ring fingers had little white flowers as accents.

A glance in the mirror made her heart stop. She looked like she had as Aaron’s wife; her weariness covered up by expensive beauty products. It wasn’t a pleasant reminder.

“Are you all done?” Aaron asked, looking up from his book as she emerged from the spa.

“Yeah, thanks,” she said quietly.

She really was so tired. Tired of the confusion, the drama, and the stress.

“…your nails look nice.”

She contorted her face in disbelief. Did he actually just give her a compliment on her appearance?

He never noticed little things like that; the last time she could remember was when he said that her new haircut looked ‘decent’ more than six years ago!

“You noticed?”

“I notice everything about you.”

That…was not comforting. In fact, it was downright alarming. Aaron was one of the least observant people she knew. Since when had that changed?! He had to be bluffing.

“Oh yeah? Then what color is my hair tie?”

Keeley took her ponytail out during the massage and facial but put it back up once the nail stylists got to work because her hair was messy.

“Purple,” he replied boredly.

Her heart nearly stopped. It WAS purple. Who was this guy and what had he done to her ex-husband?

“…you got lucky.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, challenging her. “Try me again and I’ll prove whether I got lucky or not.”

This seemed like a dangerous game to play but Keeley’s curiosity won out over common sense.

“Fine. What kind of shoes did I wear yesterday?”

“White tennis shoes with neon pink laces.”

Right again. This had to be a fluke. “The color of my literature notebook?”

“Blue.”

“What did I eat for lunch today?”

“A chicken salad sandwich, baby carrots, and my apple and cake.”

His accuracy was frightening. Part of her wanted to stop but she was actually getting angry.

Why did this emotionless idiot have to notice to her now that she didn’t want it when she would have killed for this kind of attention to detail before?

Her voice rose with her frustration. “What kind of candy bar did I have last Tuesday?”

“It wasn’t a candy bar; it was a bag of Skittles. You picked out all of the yellow and orange ones because you don’t like them.”

“You’re terrifying,” she thought aloud before hastily covering her mouth, thinking he would be mad at her.

On the contrary, he seemed smug, even pleased. “I win.”

Keeley couldn’t deny that. His observational skills were astounding. But why on earth was he wasting them on a nobody like her now when he hadn’t bothered using them on his wife?

Or…did he always notice and chose not to say anything? Honestly, she wasn’t sure which would be worse.

“You seem to be feeling better,” Aaron stated.

“Huh?”

“Your personality is back.”

She internally cursed herself. His fooling around angered her so much that she slipped up.

“Am I not allowed to be tired?” she asked brattily.

“No.”

That jerk. Keeley refused to talk to him the rest of the way back to her place but she had the oddest feeling that he was grinning on the inside, though his expression was as stoic as ever.

She lost this round big time. What kind of maniac remembers that much about someone eating Skittles, anyway?