His brow furrowed, but he didn’t press me. When the elevator doors opened, he guided me in with a hand on my back and kept it there. At the eighth floor, we got out and I walked ahead of him. The moment we were in the room, I whirled around.
“Did you kiss Jessica last night?”
“What? No!” Lucas turned on the lights, and his face was wrinkled in disgust.
“She said you did. She said you told her that you’ll always love her and you kissed her.”
Lucas closed his eyes and exhaled. “God. I can’t believe her.” He went over to the bed, unbuttoned his coat and sat down. “She was upset last night because she’d had a big fight with her sister, and she was crying about how she ruins all her relationships and no one loves her and she’s going to die alone. I was trying to make her feel better but she twists things all around. She always has.”
“Did you kiss her or not?”
“No! Maybe I gave her a little peck on the cheek, but I didn’t kiss her.”
“You kissed her cheek?” My voice rose in outrage, as if he’d just admitted to licking her ass.
“I kiss everyone on the cheek, Mia!”
I had to admit he did. When he greeted people he knew, he always kissed them on the cheeks—it was a French thing, and I usually loved it. But not when it came to Jessica.
“I was saying goodbye,” he went on. “She went to bed early and I met a friend for a beer down the street. I called you when I was walking home, remember?”
He had called me, and we’d talked and laughed and he hadn’t said one thing about the fact that she was sleeping in his bed at that very moment. Feeling smug and gleeful about my surprise visit, I’d gone to sleep so happy, never imagining that he had the bigger secret. I couldn’t let this go.
“What about saying you’ll always love her?”
Lucas exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “She asked me if I’d ever really loved her and I said yes. But I didn’t say I’ll always love her. Maybe once upon a time, I did, but you can’t hold that against me, Mia. We were together for three years. I said a lot of things.”
My back stiffened. “You say a lot of things to me, too.”
“Mia, come on.” Lucas stood and wrapped his arms around me. “Let’s not argue. We have so little time together.”
It might have been the perfect opportunity to bring up what I’d come here to discuss, but I didn’t. Instead I thought about all the sweet things Lucas had said to me over the last eight months. Had he said them all to her first? If things with us fell apart, wouldn’t he say them to someone else in the future? My throat closed up. God, how fleeting and pointless love could seem when you thought about it that way. How empty the words we say become when drained of the feeling that made them so full.
I had no doubt that Lucas had meant the things he said to her, just like he meant what was saying to me now. He wasn’t a liar; it was just that his feelings had changed. Did that make things better or worse?
His feelings could change again. I knew it. He knew it. Wasn’t that, in fact, why he refused to commit beyond long distance dating? Because he was uncertain about how he’d feel in the future?
My body began to shake again, but this time it wasn’t anger rattling my bones.
It was fear.
“Oh, honey.” Lucas’s voice was gravelly but tender. His hands rubbed my back. “I love you. I don’t love anyone else. And I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel about you.”
My chin quivered. “You probably said that to her once.”
Lowering his lips to my shoulder, he rocked me gently side to side. “You know me. I don’t dwell on the past, and I don’t obsess over the future. I honestly don’t remember saying that to her, because I can’t remember what it feels like to love anyone but you. From the day we met, thoughts of you have consumed me. And the more I have of you, the more I want—it’s like I’ll never get enough.”
God, why did he have to say those things? Did he know what they did to me? “Do you really want more of me?”
“Of course I do.” He lifted his head and took my face in his hands. “I want all of you.”
Do it. Say it. Ask him.
A chorus of voices in my head urged me to do what I’d come here to do, but I couldn’t. I was too afraid—afraid of hearing no, afraid of hearing he didn’t love me enough, afraid of being forced to walk out of his life to preserve my dignity. And my dream.
“What’s going on in there?” Lucas tilted my head from side to side.
I closed my eyes, unable to say anything.
“Poor baby. Tonight’s been too much for you. I’m sorry.”
I tried to smile, although my heart was splintering. This isn’t going to work. I can’t go on like this. “I think you’re right. It’s been…a rough night.”
He embraced me again, rocking me back and forth as I fought another deluge of tears. “She’s out of my apartment after this weekend, I promise. I’ll text her I want her gone by Sunday night, OK?”
It doesn’t matter. “OK.”
“Tell you what. I’m hungry. Let’s order a bunch of room service, a bottle of wine, and watch a movie. I’ll make sure to get something with bacon, and I’ll even let you choose what we watch. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds perfect,” I said into his shoulder, resisting the urge to pummel my fists on his chest. I twined my arms around his waist instead, and we held each other close without saying a word. Why, why, why can’t things be different?