Mr. Hot Grinch - Lindsey Hart Page 0,57

so you make the decisions. The last time I tried to delegate, it was a disaster. I booked a meeting for you tomorrow afternoon. Please be there, or I’m going to lose my mind. You don’t want me to lose my mind, do you? That would be really bad for you because you’d be down a secretary. So please. Show up.

Thanks,

Ashley.

Her signature is underneath. Why the heck did Luke end up with an email for someone named Max? Where have I heard that name before? And why is my shirt suddenly damp under the armpits?

I should just close the email and call my parents, but something else comes to mind. Something that just doesn’t make sense. I exit out of the inbox on the phone and scroll down the list into the sent messages. I click one and bring up the first one I find before scrolling down to the end of it, and yes, sure enough, there’s a signature at the bottom of the email.

Max Stone.

As in Maxwell Stone.

As in the Maxwell Stone that my parents wanted me to freaking marry?

I drop the phone like it’s a tarantula that just fell from the sky in all its hairy, spidery glory. This doesn’t make sense. This doesn’t make any freaking sense. How did Luke get Max’s phone? Does he know him? Is that even his email? What the heck is going on?

I’m breathing so shallowly that in just a second, bright spots blur my vision. I blink hard and force myself to inhale and exhale, then do it all over again. Calm. I have to stay calm. I have to go back into the house and ask Luke what the heck is going on because it doesn’t make any sense.

But then he’ll know I looked at his phone. Then again, who gives a shit if he knows? Get in there and ask him!

Right, I don’t have a choice. I’m so distracted that I leave the phone where it fell. I don’t even think about it. I gather steam with every step I take, and by the time I’m back in the living room, I plant myself in front of Luke. He’s back to watching sports again, so I block the TV and cross my arms. I don’t try and calm down because there’s no calming down now. I’m so mad that my voice comes out like a shuddery hiss that sounds ghostly and far away, even to me.

“Who in the ever-loving hell is Max Stone, and why do you have his email on your phone?”

CHAPTER 22

Luke

Doesn’t everyone say your lies will find you out? Well, they’re exactly right.

I didn’t ever think Feeney would look into my email. I just didn’t think. Maybe this was my subconscious trying to tell me to do the right thing.

Feeney already looks betrayed. Her face is contorted with anger but also with confusion. The hurt is just starting to settle in, and I hate that. I hate this. I hate that I lied to her, and now she needs to know the truth. I hate that I promised her I wouldn’t hurt her, but I did. I hate that I was going to tell her, but I just couldn’t figure out how because I didn’t plan on there being any complications with the hastily devised plan. Once it was thought out, I couldn’t take it back. No, no, I could have. I could have, and I wanted to. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her each and every night she was in my bed, wrapped in my arms, and I came close more than once, but I just couldn’t.

And now she has to find out like this.

With rage, betrayal, and all the negative emotions that aren’t going to let her give me a chance to explain.

Her foot taps, the muscles in her forearms flex, and her jaw ticks—she’s waiting. She’s waiting, and I’m just sitting here like an idiot, still trying to find the words I don’t have.

“I…Feeney, it was real. All of it. Every moment for me. I didn’t plan that. I didn’t…I didn’t ever use you, and I never wanted to trick you. I just wanted you to get to know me, and then I thought I could explain. I thought we really could come to an agreement, and I thought I was safe. That there was no way we could ever care about each other because I was too far gone, and you were…I didn’t know what you were,