I get in and shut the door. Tyler pulls away from the curb and heads down the street.
“Why’d you really go caroling?” Tyler asks after about ten seconds.
“And there it is,” I say dryly.
“It’s a legit question.”
“I thought I made it clear I did it for Finley.”
“Yeah, I’m not buying that.” He shakes his head.
“You think I wouldn’t do something for my girlfriend?”
“It’s not something you would have done in the past.”
I turn in my seat. “How the hell would you even know? You don’t know me. Not anymore.”
“Exactly.” Sadness creeps into his voice. “You don’t come around enough for us to know you. Mom had to beg you to come home for Christmas.”
“It’s a busy time at work.”
“How convenient,” he says in a snide tone.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“For someone who claims to be so damn smart, you should be able to figure it out.”
“Claims to be smart?”
“Mr. I Got Accepted to MIT. You love to lord that over us.”
“The hell I do!”
“Please,” he groans. “You sprinkle that fun fact at every opportunity.”
“Are you jealous?” I demand.
“Jealous?” he asks with a sharp laugh. “Of you?” He shakes his head as he pulls into the driveaway, then looks at me with contempt. “I feel sorry for you, you asshole.” He gets out of the car, slamming his door shut.
I climb out, furious. “You feel sorry for me?” I shout after him as he stomps toward the back door. “There is absolutely no reason to feel sorry for me!”
No one should feel sorry for me. Disgust? Maybe. Sympathy? Never. I wasn’t worthy of sympathy six years ago, and I sure as hell don’t deserve it now.
Tyler turns back to me, holding his hands out, and shrugs before he opens the back door and walks inside.
I stand on the driveway, fuming.
I should have never come home.
Chapter Twelve
Finley
“I’m sorry, Finley,” Mallory says as we walk toward the group. “He didn’t used to be like that.”
“Like what?”
She frowns, thinking, then sounds disappointed. “Calculating.”
