Because I’m a Pushover, I’m Dating the City’s Top Heir Chapter 2

The only reason I was dating Clint Grogan was because I was a total doormat.

It was my junior year of college. I was in line for food in the cafeteria.

Clint and his "white moonlight"—Seraphina Thorne—were there too, arguing about something near the serving counter.

I didn't care about them. My eyes were glued to the last three glazed pork knuckles in the serving tray. I watched them like a hawk, terrified they'd disappear.

Just as my turn was approaching, Clint and Seraphina's argument escalated. They moved back and forth, completely blocking my view of the pork knuckles.

I'm not kidding, I was dying of anxiety.

I leaned left. I twisted right. All I wanted was to see if someone had taken my precious pork knuckles.

I was so focused that I didn't realize I'd become the target of their argument.

Seraphina pointed at me, my body still swaying as I stared at the food, and sneered, "Have you ever not had a girl fawning over you? Following you to lectures is one thing, but now they're even stalking you in the cafeteria. And she's not the only one! So you're allowed to have simps, but I'm not?"

Her voice was loud and filled with resentment.

Instantly, every eye in the cafeteria turned to me.

And me? I was still craning my neck left and right, my gaze locked on my beloved pork knuckles.

It wasn't until Clint walked over to me, his tall, broad-shouldered frame completely eclipsing my view, that I snapped out of it.

He looked down at me, his expression complex.

"You like it that much?"

My mind still on the food, I looked up, confused. "Huh?"

I glanced from Clint to a hostile-looking Seraphina and assumed they were mocking my love for pork knuckles.

Slightly indignant, I muttered in my usual spineless fashion, "Can't I like them? If I can't, then I won't..."

Before I could finish my sentence, a collective "Ooooh" rippled through the crowd.

Someone shouted, "You can, you can! He's single!"

Ah, in the blink of an eye, there's only one pork knuckle left! Will I even get it?

Before I could mourn my loss, someone shoved me. I managed to stabilize myself with a split. Close call.

Seraphina retracted her hand and glared at me. "Have you no shame?"

Then she burst into tears and ran out of the cafeteria.

Naturally, Clint chased after her, leaving behind a cafeteria full of gossiping students and me, utterly bewildered and still in a split.

Even then, I hadn't grasped the severity of the situation. I happily ate my hard-won pork knuckle.

But as soon as I got back to my dorm, my roommate pounced. "Sophie! When did you start crushing on Clint? You kept it hidden so well!"

I was completely lost. "What are you talking about? That's not true!"

It was only then, scrolling through the campus gossip forum, that I learned all about my "secret crush" on Clint Grogan. No wonder the atmosphere in the cafeteria was so strange. What a ridiculous misunderstanding.

I scrolled for a bit and saw that Clint and Seraphina had taken their argument to the campus lake. I rushed over, determined to clear my name.

But when I got there, I walked right into a scene.

Seraphina was locked in a passionate kiss with some other handsome guy, while Clint stood nearby, his face dark.

My intended explanation, "I don't have a crush on him," died on my lips.

Clint grabbed my hand and started walking away. Before we left, he shot a threat at Seraphina. "From now on, you go your way, and I'll go mine. Our arrangement is over."

Then, he turned to me and declared, "Sophie, I accept your pursuit."

Wait, what? No!

I hadn't agreed to anything!

I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip was like iron. I could only shake my head vigorously. "No, no, no..."

Clint stopped and turned to me, a flicker of confusion in his arrogant eyes. "Didn't you just say you liked me in the cafeteria? You don't like me anymore?"

"I don't li—"

His face instantly darkened. He took a menacing step forward, his tall frame completely engulfing my small, pathetic form.

"Are you playing me?" he gritted out.

I'll admit, I was more than a little spineless.

I caved.

I rephrased, my voice small and resentful. "I like you."

And just like that, I was inexplicably in a relationship with Clint Grogan.

I told myself he'd regret it soon enough. I could just break up with him then.

But it had been three years, and we were still together.

In those three years, Clint was ill-tempered, unreasonable, and constantly weaponized his looks against me. For example, he clearly didn't love me, but he'd pull me into bed whenever he had a spare moment. Afterwards, he'd have the audacity to call me clingy, holding me tight and muttering to himself that only he could satisfy me.

I mean, who says things like that?

His insatiable appetite alone was enough to convince me I couldn't spend my life with him.

But I was too much of a coward to break up with him. At first, I was afraid of his temper. Now, I was afraid he'd literally screw me to death.

God, my life was so hard.