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Anger beat through him.

“And we hate each other, remember?” she said, blinking at him. “I thought this was just a bit of fun.”

But the truth was, he’d never hated her. He was a fool.

He had clearly misunderstood. He had thought they’d connected, but of course they hadn’t. He was stupid, always the stupid one.

God, what was wrong with him? He should have never allowed himself to hope.

Everything she did was a ploy, a trick. Hadn’t he learned that by now? He couldn’t trust her.

Of course she hated him. He had no idea why he had thought differently, why he had expected—what? That this meant something? That he meant something?

He didn’t; he never did.

It was too bad for her—he wasn’t leaving, not anytime soon, at least.

“Right,” he said, voice hard. “A bit of fun.”

Before she could say anything else, he stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lucy

As Lucy drove back to her place from Charles’s, she replayed those last moments with Grayson, how quickly things had gone from perfect to not.

She could still feel his fingers between her legs, and her pulse spiked at the memory. She squeezed her thighs together, taking in a shaky breath, trying to collect her bearings.

The truth was, she hadn’t expected him to ask her out. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been asked out on a proper dinner date! Her brain had short-circuited, making her laugh nervously.

His face had fallen at that. Had he thought she was laughing at him? She wasn’t!

Still, it wasn’t a good idea, as she’d said. He was leaving. She couldn’t get involved only to have her heart broken when he left. It would hurt too much.

And then he’d confirmed it was just a bit of fun, slamming the door on his way out. And okay, maybe his tone was off, but it was better this way. At least, that was what she told herself.

It was easier and simpler to hate him than to feel everything else.

But with apprehension, Lucy realized the words didn’t seem too convincing.

When Lucy parked back at her house, she grabbed her purse to head inside, her eyes falling upon a little spot of white in her bag. She paused, pulling out the mini snow globe. She ought to get rid of it—it was just a silly little trinket, after all, worth nothing—but she closed her hand around it, not wanting to let go.

She put it in the pocket of her purse, right beside her card case, and went inside. She closed the front door behind her.

“I’m back,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. She kicked off her shoes, tossing aside her coat and scarf, and went to the kitchen. On the way, she heard the television in the living room and strayed over, finding her parents sitting beneath a blanket, watching a Christmas movie.

“Oh. Hi,” she said, standing at the edge of the room.

Her parents turned to look up, noticing her.

“Oh hello,” Andrew said.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Iffat added.

They didn’t ask where she had been, what she had been up to. Nor did they ask her to join them. They just smiled politely.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” Lucy finally said. They nodded, turning back to their movie, Andrew’s arm around Iffat making them look like one person instead of two.