You Called Me A Bed Partner? Novel by WriterLola _ Novel

You Called Me A Bed Partner? Chapter 01

Bridget Chapman was the most vibrant and dazzling heiress in all of Washington, D.C.

Exceptionally beautiful, she could captivate any man’s heart with just a single glance. It was often said that her admirers could line up from one end of the city to the other—yet she had never cared for any of them.

That was, until her best friend, Faye Hart, made her a bet. “Gigi, if you can win my uncle’s favor, take your pick of any car from my garage.”

Kendrick Hart, the man at the helm of the Hart Group, was known for his icy elegance and restrained desire. Countless socialites had tried to get close to him, yet no one could ever breach his walls. Rumor had it he had never allowed a woman near him.

Bridget flashed a bright, confident smile. She always got what she wanted.

But fate worked in mysterious ways.

On the very first day of the bet, she stumbled into Kendrick, who had been drugged. Already intent on approaching him, she seized the moment and righteously became his cure.

From that night, something inside that detached man cracked—because of her.

Over the next three years, Kendrick became utterly addicted to her. They had been together everywhere—against the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, in the lavatory of his private jet, and even in the locker room of the golf course… They explored intimacy in every possible way, leaving traces of passion in every corner.

And in the midst of it all, Bridget’s heart quietly, bit by bit, fell for him.

She thought that he, the man everyone saw as impeccable and unapproachable, felt the same.

Until tonight, after an intimate moment in the car, she noticed his sapphire cufflink had fallen off. She picked it up and went to return it to him.

The door at the end of the hallway was slightly ajar. As she reached to push it open, she overheard voices from inside.

“Ken, you just finished another round with Bridget, huh? That feisty little minx acts like she looks down on everyone—what’s your secret? She turns so sweet and docile with you. I’m almost jealous. So… when are you going to marry her?”

Bridget paused, her heart skipping a beat.

Then came that all-too-familiar voice, cool and detached.

“Why would I marry my bed partner?”

His tone was so casual, so light—yet it twisted deep in her heart, sharp and cold.

The room fell into an eerie silence. Even his friends seemed stunned by his brutal definition.

After what felt like an eternity, someone tentatively broke the silence. “C-Come on, Ken. It’s been three years… Can’t you still get over that … unforgettable love of yours?”

Unforgettable love?

Bridget’s mind went blank.

Kendrick … had an unforgettable love?

She stood rooted outside the door, her soul seeming to drain away.

Then Kendrick’s voice reached her again. “Yes. When we broke up back then, she asked me to give her three years—she wanted to try being with someone else. She said I could do the same. When the three years were up, if we still had feelings for each other, we’d get back together.

“She’s always been dramatic, insecure. So, I agreed.

“Now it’s been three years. I’m done trying.” He paused before continuing, his voice carrying a faint but unmistakable anticipation, “And it’s time for her to come back.”

His words struck like a physical blow. Bridget went cold all over, her fingertips trembling.

All the intimacy they had shared… Every moment she thought had meant something… Was it all just his experiment? His trial run?

“What about Bridget? She’s so spoiled and willful. If she finds out—”

Just then, the heavy door swung open, creating a loud bang, cutting off the speaker.

Everyone inside jolted, turning toward the door.

There stood Bridget, her face ghostly pale, her usually enchanting eyes now bloodshot.

She stared only at the man seated at the head of the table, like everyone else didn’t exist.

Kendrick, in his impeccably tailored suit, back straight, posture composed.

His cool detachment remained unshaken. Not a flicker of surprise or panic crossed his face at her sudden appearance.

That composure was the final blow that shattered the last of Bridget’s self-control. The brutal reality hit her—even if he’d felt anything for her, he wouldn’t be this calm.

She walked toward him, her voice hoarse as her eyes locked onto the man she’d loved for three whole years. “Kendrick, don’t you have anything to say to me?”

He looked up, his gaze steady.

“No. It’s exactly what you heard.

“We’re partners in bed, that’s all. I always thought you understood that.

“Faye made a bet with you—if you won me over, you could pick any luxury car from her garage. You may consider yourself the winner. If you think a luxury car isn’t enough…”

He drew a black card from his inner suit pocket with slender fingers, sliding it lightly across the table toward her.

“There’s 15 million dollars here. Consider it my thanks for you being available whenever I needed you for the past three years.

“From this moment on, we’re through.”

With that, he stood, ready to leave.

But as he passed her, Bridget suddenly reached out and clutched his wrist.

Her hand was ice-cold, her grip so tight her knuckles turned white.

Kendrick halted.

Then her voice—broken yet clear—echoed in the dead silence of the room. Proud as she was, she now clung to him as if he were her last lifeline. “But … I’m in love with you.”

She was in love with him.

She didn’t even know when it had started.

Maybe that winter day she’d been too lazy to put on slippers, and he’d crouched down, warming her cold ankles in his broad palms before sliding them on.

Maybe after her appendicitis surgery, drifting in and out of pain, only to wake and find him sitting by her bed, with dark circles under his eyes. Maybe all those late nights he’d come back with the faint scent of alcohol, yet still remembered she was afraid of thunder, pulling her close into his arms…

Countless ordinary, fragmented moments—they had gathered without her noticing, and overwhelmed her completely.

And now, he could casually reduce it all to “bed partners”?

How cruel.

Kendrick parted his lips, about to speak. Just then, his phone chimed.

He pulled it out. A new message flashed on the screen, right in Bridget’s line of sight.

“Ken, three years are up. I’ve tried, but my heart has always belonged to you. Let’s get back together.”

In that moment, Bridget felt her world shatter completely.

Kendrick’s gaze lingered on the screen for several seconds. Then, slowly, he pried Bridget’s fingers from his wrist, one by one.

“Sorry,” he said, voice firm and final. “I’m not in love with you.”

Without another word or a single look back, he strode away.

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