“You done yet?”
“Yes.” I sighed, feeling slightly better but still shaky, like he was just waiting for me to calm down so he could run me over with a motorized vehicle, only to apologize and do it again, such were the ways of Lucas Thorn.
“You said you’d do anything?” I didn’t like that look, that look with his eyebrows arching a bit, exposing more of his hypnotic eyes and damn cleft chin!
“I—”
“You said, and I quote, ‘I’ll do anything, Lucas . . .’”
“I don’t sound that shrill,” I snapped.
“Eh, pretty sure you do.” He took a long, smug sip of his coffee and then shrugged.
“So you need me—am I hearing this correctly?”
I shifted in my seat, avoiding eye contact. Napkins littered the floor by my feet and—oh look, a green straw. Maybe I could save it for later and use it to help build my shack by the water. Homelessness wouldn’t be so bad—I mean, I could bathe in the ocean, live off the land.
I once heard that grasshoppers taste like chicken.
“Avery, look at me.” His voice was smooth. Slowly I lifted my gaze to his stupidly beautiful face. “Dinner. Tuesday. Those are my terms, take them or leave them.”
I jerked back in response. “Dinner? That’s it? Lucas, is this your idea of a sick joke? You know one of my favorite things to do is eat. I take food very seriously.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Okay, so it’s entirely possible that I once fell asleep at his house and woke up screaming, “Hamburger!”
But in my defense, I’d forgotten to eat after soccer practice, and the parents had been gone again, which meant I got scared and went to Lucas’s house, because, well, he had bigger muscles and was strategic in all his monster-fighting ability. The man had fake ninja stars.
“Just dinner,” I said, my eyes narrowing.
It was his turn to look uncomfortable. “Dinner and polite conversation.”
I pointed my finger at him. “I don’t trust you, Thorn.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you under the impression I want your trust?”
Okay, well, that was unnecessarily mean.
“Look, dinner with me Tuesday and you won’t get a bad assessment. In fact, I may just give you a perfect review when the internship is over.”
“Fine,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. “Where are we going?”
“El Gaucho.”
I gasped.
His smile was huge. “What? Mouth already watering?”
“No, I just—too much pumpkin bread.”
“Right.”
We stared at each other in silence.
Until two really pretty girls in Delta Air Lines uniforms approached our table.
“Lucas,” they said in unison. “We’ve only got a few hours left because of the weird schedule. You ready to go?”
“Yup.” Lucas stood and greeted both girls with a full-fledged kiss on the mouth.
My mouth dropped open at the attention he paid both of them, in front of one another, like it was completely okay to swap spit with two people on a Monday morning.
In Starbucks.
In front of me.
I quickly glanced away when Lucas looked down at me. “Avery, meet Tabatha and Cary.”
“Hi.” I forced a pained cheerful smile that I really didn’t feel like offering. Why were they okay with this? How? They were both really cute girls, dark hair, dark eyes—just normal girl-next-door types. I didn’t get it. At all.
One was maybe a size twelve or fourteen, and had curves that would make most girls feel extremely inadequate. The other—I wasn’t sure if she was Tabatha or Cary—was a little bit smaller but not by much. They both resembled a guy’s fantasy girl, at least in my mind.
I looked down at my own frame and frowned.
Maybe that’s what he meant when he said he didn’t date children. I realized how young I must have seemed to him; with my hip leather pants and sleeveless shirt, I might as well have been a boy.
My boobs were nowhere near as big as theirs.
Honestly, I hadn’t wanted to involve myself in his weird bedroom shenanigans; they made my chest feel too tight. Emotionless detachment was the only way to go where Lucas Thorn was concerned. But now, now he had me, because I was curious.
Cary and Tabatha had a little something to hang on to, and they wore their confidence well.
Story of my life: I think Lucas and I are back in friendship territory, only to discover there’s another girl (or two) standing in the way.
Not that I’d ever admit that to him. Ever.
It was hard enough admitting the truth to myself.
“Lucas, you’ve been drinking,” I reminded him. A lot. It was the night before Kayla and his wedding. I’d never seen him drink so much.
“So wrong,” he whispered. “So, so wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, wrapping my arm around his waist while we walked back toward the house. The party was still in full swing, but he’d been done a few shots of tequila ago.
“You.” I stumbled with him toward the house and nearly slammed into the side of the garage as he barreled into me.
“Lucas?” I touched his cheek. “Are you okay?”
His eyes focused on me, and he cupped my face with both hands. It was dark outside, and I could barely see the outline of his mouth. He was always smiling.
Except now.
“Lucas, is it Kayla?”