Page 106 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
But then, even though we are keeping whatever this is secret, and I’m pretty sure once I remove my hands from my face and Luke sees just what a mess I am, and that I am not slick and smooth and sophisticated at all times of the day, he will no longer be interested. He might...apologize. He might say...he didn’t mean it.
But really, he’ll be relieved when I’m no longer in his room and he doesn’t have to whisper lies to me and he can play video games and work out and do whatever he and Troy would normally do together.
And because despite everything I do want him to be happy.
I guess I better get this over with. I need to leave this room, leave this apartment, leave Massachusetts as soon as I possibly can.
I flick my eyes open and remove my hands.
Luke stares at me, wide-eyed. “Baby...” he says again, and I frown, because he doesn’t need to lie.
Though actually the endearment works perfectly well in this case. This is certainly my most baby-like moment. I swallow hard, hating the acid that floods through me, that makes pain scuttle through my body.
God, what was I thinking?
Ella and Mateo warned me. I know better. I do. I really, really do.
I rise to a sitting position. Luke is blocking my path, and I pull my legs to the side, so I can get out that way.
I square my jaw. Square my shoulders. Try to square my soul.
Luke looks up at me, anguish in his eyes. “I hurt your feelings. I’m sorry. I-I apologize.”
I close my eyes. I don’t want to have this conversation. I don’t want to have any conversation, but this one, in particular is a no.
I inhale and paste my best professional look on my face. My tears have stopped falling. I will look ridiculous, but I won’t add drama to his day. I will leave. That’s all.
“You’re fine,” I say, proud when my voice doesn’t shake. “I guess I didn’t sleep well last night.”
He flinches, like I’ve hurt him. I didn’t intend for my comments to hurt, but some horrible part of me is not entirely displeased.
Because we both know he kept me up late last night.
And then interrupted my sleep.
His gaze drifts to my bottom, and he doesn’t have any right to look there, and I glower at him.
“Are you in pain?” he asks finally.
“I’ll survive.”
And if my voice comes out bitter...Well, maybe I am.
Luke’s eyes round, and my shoulders collapse.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper because I truly am. “I know you didn’t intend for Troy to come in the room.”
He nods at me eagerly, and I give him something resembling a smile, because he seems to like that, and even now, even after all that, I want him to be happy.
“I was being dramatic,” I apologize, more sincerely this time. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. It just made me feel—”
I pause. I don’t want to get into feelings.
I smile again, and maybe then he’ll look happier, and I can go and leave. Maybe I can sneak back into the townhouse Ella booked for the crew, near enough to the women that we can see them at all times of day if anything interesting is happening.
And maybe I can’t, and I’ll tell them I had a bad hookup and I’m never going to use phone apps again. And it will be embarrassing, and they’ll look at me differently, but it will be okay. They wouldn’t be surprised, not really.
It would be better than telling the truth.
