Unwrapped

“Sure,” Lacey finally looks up and gives me a breezy smile. “Why wouldn’t it be? I’m all packed, so, ready when you are.”

Rejection hits me hard. Lacey couldn’t make it clearer if she tried: last night was a one-time, drunken hook-up thing. That’s all.

“Sure, just give me a minute.” I try and collect myself, looking around the room.

“Take your time,” she shrugs. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Lacey grabs her case and makes to leave, but something makes me stop her. I reach out and take hold of her arm as she passes. “Wait.”

Lacey freezes, and our eyes catch. I pause. Her skin is soft under my touch, and I can feel the warmth of her body, smell that drift of scented shampoo … It scrambles my brain a second, and I fight to think straight. “About last night …” I pause, awkward. Just a few hours ago, all my inhibitions were unbound with this woman: I felt free, and confident, like I could do anything in the world. Now, in the cold morning light, everything is wrong. There’s a stilted energy between us; Lacey’s gaze is guarded and detached, and I don’t know what the hell put that expression on her face.

“It’s nothing.” Lacey cuts me off, before I can say anything else. “Just two old friends, blowing off some steam, right?” She flashes me another smile, but this one doesn’t seem to reach her eyes. “It was fun, but, come on, we both know this isn’t a thing. I mean, you and me? Please!” She gives a little laugh, like it’s the craziest thing she’s ever heard.

I open my mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. What can I say? I realize bitterly. She’s right, isn’t she? That’s what I was thinking all last night, how me and Lacey couldn’t be more different. She’s nothing like the woman I pictured ending up with, my ideal mate. Lacey is loud and spontaneous and inappropriate; she would drive me insane in five minutes if we ever tried dating for real.

That was before you knew the real her; before you discovered what it felt like to hold her in your arms …

I realize that Lacey is still standing there, like she’s waiting for a response. “Right!” I blurt, loudly. “Sure, one night. Uh, thanks!”

Lacey narrows her eyes. “You’re welcome.” she mutters, “Oh, and Daniel? Merry Christmas.”

Before I can wonder what the hell just happened here, she leaves, slamming the door shut behind her. I hurry to grab my stuff and pack, but the whole time, I feel a sharp stab of frustration in my chest. I can’t believe Lacey acted so breezy, like I was just another one of her casual flings, like last night didn’t mean anything all.

Well, did it?

I grit my teeth, angrily shoving my laptop and files back in my case. Everything we said makes sense, I remind myself. We’re adults, we had one crazy night together, and now we’re just going to be mature and move on.

So why do you feel like you just got slapped in the face?

I push the voice aside and take a final look around the room. If Lacey wants to act like last night never happened, that’s just fine with me. As far as I’m concerned, we’re just old friends stuck together by force beyond our control. I just need to get her to Beachwood Bay, then get on with my life like I planned.

No more distractions. No more crazy, impulsive games.

Simple.

***

We make most of the drive in silence, with the radio drowning out the awkward tension between us in the car. Daniel keeps his eyes fixed on the road, like I’m not even here, and any time I try and make small-talk to break the mood, he reminds me that the roads are still icy from the frost.

“You don’t want us to wind up in a ditch, do you?” he asks, when I ask a simple question about his job, and how he likes New York.

“No,” I sigh, turning away. I press my head against the cool glass, watching the blur of grays and white speed by, trapped inches away from him with no escape.

I want to cry.

I wasn’t expecting this, to feel so shaken and off balance. I told myself it was just one crazy night together, but waking up to find Daniel gone this morning was one of the worst moments of my whole entire life. I knew I was making a mistake, letting things go so far, but I couldn’t help it. A small part of me hoped that maybe, just maybe, our night together was as epic and amazing for him as it was for me; that he’d never want it to end. I woke up still enveloped in the feeling of his arms around me, our bodies moving as one, our very souls connected—and then I rolled over and reached for him, and found empty sheets instead.

I’ve never felt so stupid.

Of course he didn’t mean it, I was crazy thinking he could ever see me as girlfriend material, when he’s made it clear I’m the last thing he wants in a woman. Thank God that by the time he arrived back at the room, I had myself pulled back together. If he wants to act like it was just a one-time thing, then I can do that. Easy, breezy, no problem. After all, Lacey Andrews is the queen of casual hook-ups, I can play this in my sleep.

Except it’s killing you, pretending like you don’t care.

I swallow back the ache and keep my eyes fixed on the winter landscape blurring outside the windows. It shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does. Because the truth is, last night with Daniel was the first time I’ve ever connected with someone like that: bared my heart and soul to them, without trying to stay distanced or detached. I showed him everything, and now, it kills me to see him turn away. At least when he was with Juliet, I had a good reason to know we’d never be together. I could tell myself it wouldn’t work, anyway, that we wouldn’t have any chemistry or spark.