“OH NO!” I yelled, purposely spilling my wine all over the table.
Hopefully, the racket was loud enough to gain his attention.
And it was.
But the minute Kayla looked where I was looking, it was too late.
He was at dinner with another girl.
I was at dinner with his ex.
Oh dear.
To his credit, Lucas smiled, waved, and got up. He said something to Chelsea that I’m sure meant he’d make up for it later—in the bedroom—for having to abandon her unexpectedly and sauntered over to us while she gathered her things and left.
Damn the man. He didn’t have a right to look so good in a suit jacket.
Kayla started shaking.
I wasn’t sure who I felt worse for: her, Chelsea, or Satan, as he made his way toward us, his jaw twitching like he was clenching his teeth.
“Hey, um, hey there . . . baby.” I choked and threw my arms around his neck.
He wheezed, coughed, then did what Lucas Thorn always does when he’s cornered by a female—he kissed me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
LUCAS
It was hard to feel disappointed about losing yet another one of my girls when my lips were in the process of plundering Avery’s mouth—with the aid of my tongue. Ten more minutes, and I was going to be tossing her over my shoulder.
Because that’s what a grown man did in fancy restaurants—screw a girl he wasn’t even on a date with, against the very table where his ex-fiancée is seated.
Perfect plan.
“Chelsea works here, thus the gift card I got for you,” I whispered against Avery’s ear. Since I was in that general vicinity I decided a slow nibble wouldn’t hurt. She let out a little squeak, tightening her arms around my neck.
It felt too real.
All of it.
And I wanted that, the realness, the feel of her body against mine, her smooth curves filling my hands, her fingers stretched across my neck—and then slowly, sadly, she pulled away and hung her head. “I missed you.”
“Surprise!” I said, trying to wing it. “I figured you would come here, so I had Chelsea get me a table far enough away from the drama so I could at least intervene if need be.”
“How heroic.” Avery blinked and then nodded toward Kayla.
I didn’t want to look at Kayla.
I didn’t want to talk to her.
I didn’t want to be put in a position where I had to explain myself to the very woman who I’d left at the altar—because I was in love with her little sister.
Shit.
Admitting the situation in my head was almost as bad as finally saying it out loud. I wrapped my arm around Avery and faced Kayla.
Tears streamed down her face.
I was the cause of them.
And I hated myself for it. Even if Kayla had doubts too, there was no justification for what I did to her—not that she forced me to do something as horrible as I did.
There was no justification for what I did to Kayla.
Everyone had expected us to get married. But we’d been fighting, and deep down she must have known that we’d been growing apart. That we’d stayed together out of familiarity and habit.
Even though I knew it wasn’t the time to say it, she had to know, in her gut, that we would have never worked.
“Kayla, you look really good.” I held out my hand. She hesitated and then sat up a little taller, taking the compliment and pressing her hand firmer against mine. I’d always hated how she shook hands. She’d always been a bit vain, needing attention and adulation to feel good about herself. I hoped that my greeting would set her at ease—and though she did look good, she didn’t compare to Avery.
The breadbasket arrived.
Avery ripped into it like a hungry lion, while Kayla tore small pieces and put them on her plate, only to plop one in her mouth, chew a billion times, and finally swallow.
God, it was like seeing her for the first time—and suddenly I wondered how we’d stayed together as long as we did. So many things had started to pull us apart before we even got engaged. I’d always despised Kayla’s eating habits, especially after all the fights we got into about her not eating. Back then she thought the perfect body was about being skinny, and it was apparent she hadn’t changed much in that regard. I’d never noticed how thin her face was, or how clothes hung so loosely on her body. Most women would probably envy her wispy frame, but it made my fingers itch to run up and down Avery’s legs, then hold her tight.
“So this is . . . so nice,” Avery choked out, taking a huge sip of wine between her giant bites of bread. “Should we order?”
“YES!” I said a little too loudly.
“Look, guys”—Kayla’s shoulders slumped—“I appreciate the show, but honestly this is awkward and it’s not going to get better. I haven’t had an appetite all day, so why don’t you two just enjoy dinner tonight.” She stood. “Avery, I love you. I’ll talk to you later.”
Her eyes locked on mine. “Lucas.”
And she was gone.
I exhaled in relief while Avery pointed at the breadbasket, her mouth filled with bread, and said, “Are you going to eat that?”
“By all means, have all five pieces. It’s not communal or anything,” I joked as the waiter dropped off two menus.
“That was . . .” I glanced back at the door. “How is she?”
Avery made a noise. “How would you be if you dated someone for most of your life and thought it meant forever, only to find him in someone else’s bed and then, plot twist.” She was really tearing into that bread. “Now that she’s finally over it, her goofy little sister suddenly steps in and decides she wants a piece.”
I reached for a roll, but my hand was slapped away.
“No,” Avery growled.
With a sigh, I leaned forward and said in a low voice, “Don’t you think I know how bad it hurt? How awful it was the next day when I woke up with the hangover from hell? I never meant to hurt her. I wouldn’t—look, regardless of how things were between us, the last thing she deserved was that.”
A hunk of bread fell from Avery’s lips. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a complete monster—I’d think you would know me better than that.” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice, but it was impossible.
Our gazes locked.
The air was tense with all the words left unsaid.
Four years’ worth of them.
I looked away, suddenly grateful for Kayla’s exit.
Because it gave me time with the only girl I actually wanted to be having dinner with on a Wednesday.
Avery.
Shit. I was already in so deep, wasn’t I?
I couldn’t see beyond the hole I was digging for myself. The kiss had unlocked every damn thing, and the more I pushed her away, the more I hurt her. She was probably ready to strangle me half the time whenever I brought up my girls, and yet she held her head high and met me with a fierceness I found so damn irresistible and admirable that I couldn’t help but crave her more.
A waiter approached.
“Steak.” I winked at Avery. “Just bring us two giant steaks, mashed potatoes, the house salad, and—”
“Corn!” Avery added, shoving another piece of bread in her mouth.
“You heard the lady.” I chuckled and handed him the menus.
“Would you like something to drink, sir?” he asked.
“No, I’m good.” For some reason, I wanted a clear head, and after that kiss, I was already half-drunk on Avery’s mouth, the same mouth she was still stuffing bread into.
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’m a nervous eater,” she said defensively. “Thanks for coming by and making Kayla believe it’s real, but you can run along and hang out with Chelsea, who I’m sure is pissed.”
And as I often did around Avery, I felt like an ass. “Actually, she thought it was going to be a group orgy. I let her down slo
wly though, told her you weren’t into anything sexual and still wore a training bra.”
“How sweet of you.” Avery kicked my foot under the table.
I winced. “That was uncalled for.”
“You insulted my boobs—I’ll have you know they’re very sensitive.”
I bit out a curse and reached for my water. She was young, inexperienced, and probably didn’t intend for her words to affect me, and yet I was nursing fast-moving arousal under the table.
“That came out wrong.” Her cheeks blushed bright pink.
“Funny, I’d say it came out just right.” I leaned in. “Let’s discuss this further.”
“Aw, sorry, can’t. I’m not your normal Wednesday, so no matter how this night ends, whether I’m at my place or yours—my private parts are on lockdown.”
“You really need to stop drawing my attention to your breasts. Might give me the wrong idea.”
She gulped, her eyes locking on my mouth. “Yeah, well, when I’m stressed I blurt out things that make no sense. You’re free to ignore me the rest of the night. Say, where are we with that whole leaving and forgetting about this idea?”
“Staying.” I wrapped my arm around her. “Right here.”
She slumped forward. “But . . .”
“That didn’t seem to go well.” I changed the subject and reached for the last piece of bread.
She shrugged. “It sucked actually. At least I didn’t have to defend your lifestyle and why you were sitting with another girl.” She scowled as a blush heated her cheeks. “I didn’t want her to look at you that way, I just . . . I mean, I hate you—you get that, right?”
“Do you?” My heart thudded slowly in my chest, waiting for her answer. “Do you really hate me so much?”
She blinked and looked down at her hands. “I want to.”
“You want to hate me, but you don’t.”
She nodded.
“So that must mean you kind of like me?”
“What is this, middle school?”
“I wouldn’t know, that was a long time ago for me, but for you—hey, wasn’t that like five years—”
She smacked me in the chest. I grabbed her hand and held her sizzling fingertips against my neck until they began slowly inching up to cup my cheek. “Tell me one thing, and I want the truth, Thorn.”