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“Don’t ‘you’re welcome’ me. I’ve been calling you non-stop since last night. Since you— you—”
He raises his brows.
“Since you sent me that photo. Of Cleo. In your room.”
“Who?”
He manages to keep the poker face for a second before smirking at his stupid joke, and I want to scream. Instead, I shove both hands against his chest, as hard as I can. “Don’t. Just don’t.” I shove him again. It doesn’t do anything — he’s not even moving a little bit, but it feels good to get my rage out, otherwise I might explode. “What happened? Why was she here?”
He shrugs.
“Lucas,” I growl and shove him again.
He cracks a smile. Does he think this is funny? Does he think this is fucking funny?
The muscles in my arms feel tense, my skin burning hot, and this time I punch him as hard as I can, hopefully hard enough to bruise. “Tell me what you did. Tell me right now.” When he doesn’t respond immediately, I dig my nails into his shoulders and push him against the door, hard and fast enough to hear the wood creak.
His eyes are still alight with amusement, but at least his smile has disappeared.
“What I did? I did nothing. She’s the one who showed up here.”
“What happened? What did she say?”
He tilts his head, as if trying to remember. Bastard. I know he knows exactly what happened. It was last night. It’s not as if he could have forgotten.
“I told her you’d gone to visit your family, and she said that she knew. That she was just here to pick something up.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, some skincare product. So, I let her in. You’re the one who’s always telling me to be polite.”
I grit my teeth. “And then?” I grind out.
“She joined us on the couch, even though no one invited her. She didn’t leave for hours.” Lucas shakes his head. “Hugo and Gilly left, and I stayed here, and she stayed too. She followed me into my room. I asked what she was doing, but she ignored me. She just walked around my room, playing with my things.”
“You’re lying.” He must have invited her inside his bedroom.
“I’m not. She even walked up to my bedside table and asked me where I got my lamp. Said she was looking for a good one. I told her I had no idea. I knew she was full of shit anyway.”
“How do you know?”
He rolls his eyes. “Come on, Charlie.”
I don’t say anything. He continues.
“Next thing I know, she’s on my bed. Oh, by the way, I should probably mention that she showed up looking like a hooker. Yeah. She wore the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen—”
That’s it. I swing a fist at him, prepared to ruin his face, his stupid fucking face, but he grabs me before I make contact. His grip is tight, his fingers easily fitting around my wrist.
He continues speaking as if nothing happened. “She was so close to me. Close enough for me to smell her. Raspberry, right?”
I can’t believe this.
“That’s when I sent you the message. Thought I should give you a little warning that your precious little girlfriend isn’t so loyal.”
I start to shake.
“She put my phone down. Turned it off. She didn’t want distractions, you know? Not when we were busy.”
