The Fine Print (Dreamland Billionaires #1)(102)

I don’t want her to leave Dreamland because of me. I want to work with her, side by side, and make this place everything she has dreamed of.

Claire opens the door with a frown. “What do you want?”

“Is Zahra home?”

“It’s Christmas.”

“But you’re here, and she wouldn’t leave you alone on a holiday.”

Her eyes narrow into two tiny slits, and I know I got her. “She doesn’t want to speak to you.”

“I’ll let her decide that,” I reply with a flat tone.

She crosses her arms. “Why are you really here?”

“Because I need to talk to her. It’s important.”

She raises a brow. “On Christmas?”

“Claire? Who is it?” Zahra turns the corner and freezes in the entryway.

I take a good look at her. Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun I want to unleash, and her body is hidden beneath the most hideous Christmas PJs. My hands itch to grab her, yet I remain leaning against the doorframe.

“Zahra.” My voice carries a raspy tone to it.

She ignores me. “I got this, Claire.”

“You sure?” Her friend’s gaze slides from Zahra to me, going from soft to edgy in a second.

Zahra nods and walks toward the door. Claire doesn’t bother looking in my direction as she walks down a hall back to her room.

“What do you want, Rowan?” Zahra crosses her arms.

“I want to talk.”

“On Christmas?”

What is up with these two and Christmas? It’s just a holiday—more of an inconvenience than anything else.

I take a deep breath and dangle the bag in her eyesight. “I brought an activity to convince you to give me an hour to talk.”

Her eyes bulge. “Are you serious?”

I frown. “Yes? I researched the best strategies for gingerbread house making and thought we could give it a try while you hear me out. I even bought popsicle sticks to work as stabilizers.”

She says nothing.

Come on. Say something. “I thought we could make homemade icing because the one in the box looks disgusting.”

Whatever I said snaps her out of her thoughts. “Oh my God. You actually think a gingerbread house is going to make things better?”

Shit. “Well, no. But I remember you mentioning how much you liked them, and—”

She holds her hand up. Her face is all scrunched up as if she is in pain talking to me. My nauseous stomach sinks into dangerous territory. I’m tired of being sick to my stomach. It makes me feel disgustingly pathetic and in the mood to wallow, and I despise any sort of self-pity.

“Rowan, you ended things with me. We can’t just pick up where we left off and pretend to go back to something casual.”

“Good because I don’t want anything casual anymore.”

Her eyes shine. “You’re only doing all this because of the vote.”

I release a frustrated breath. “I’m not doing this for a damn vote. If you want to vote against me, then do it. Hell, I encourage you to, as long as you give me a chance to explain myself.”

Her mouth pops open before closing again.

I reach out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I mean it. Go ahead and do what feels right. The vote is the last thing on my mind right now. You’re more important.”

Her head drops as she takes a deep breath. She looks back up at me with watery eyes, and it pierces me straight in the chest. “I wish I could believe you. I really do. But I’m tired of giving people all the chances in the world, only for them to realize I’m not worth it in the end. Because I am, and no one is going to convince me otherwise anymore. Not even you. I don’t want to be used for entertainment while passing the time, just like I don’t want to be labeled as some mistake.” Her words are laced with hurt, and it only fucks me up more inside.

I regret ever saying those things to her. When I broke things off with her, I thought I was doing the right thing before it got out of control. Truth is, it already was, and I was too stupid to realize it.

I’d rather feel out of control and still have Zahra than whatever the hell this is without her. I can’t go back to the way things were before she entered my life.

“Merry Christmas, Rowan.” She doesn’t bother waiting for my reply as she shuts the door in my face, leaving me behind with a heavy feeling in my chest.





Zahra ignoring me is nothing but a challenge. I decide the only way to get her attention is to do something ridiculous. And by ridiculous, I mean making the damn gingerbread house myself and sending her a picture. The structure is damaged after falling too many times to count, and the roof keeps sliding off, but I’m committed.

I place the final gumdrop on the roof and grab my phone before the entire thing caves in on itself.

I’m sorry. One of the gumdrops slides off the roof, ruining the letter m. I’m quick to fix it and snap a photo.

I attach the photo to my text chain with Zahra and send it, along with a missing you message.

I’m not sure why I expect some acknowledgment back. Maybe I was stupid to hope she would take pity on me doing the whole damn thing by myself.

I was wrong. My text goes unanswered, which only adds to the intense feeling in my chest every time I look over at the stupid house.