Which she doesn’t. Most definitely not.
Her face heats. She turns her face to the window, not wanting Seth to see.
Stop it, she hisses at her reflection. Stop swooning like some dumb, lovesick teenage girl.
Which was exactly how she acted the very first time she met Seth, all those years ago. She was sixteen, Sal and Luke were engaged. When a twenty-year-old Seth came strolling in late to the engagement dinner, Lacey felt that flutter all the way in the pit of her stomach. He was wild, cute, funny and older. So sure, she had a crush on him. But when he promptly called her a princess and teased her for the big ball gown she had picked to wear to her sister’s party, all crushing was off. Since then, he was always Luke’s incredibly annoying younger brother. Sal’s best friend and Lacey’s competition.
And that’s what he still is.
They can’t do what they’ve been doing anymore. She told him that back in Nashville. Her only reassurance is that he leaves tomorrow. All temptation gone. All her focus on the Colin Cane party. The way it should be.
Twenty minutes later, they’re in Reseda. Lacey taps a nail against the window as Seth takes a right on Cooley Avenue. “This is mine,” she says as they pull up to the Desert Wind apartment complex. With relief, she sees her car has been towed back thanks to her AAA membership. The one nice thing her father’s ever done for her.
Seth pulls up to the curb and cuts the engine. He sits there for a long second, frowning at the crumbling stucco building.
He looks over at her. “Did he take your keys?”
She startles. “What?”
“Your keys,” he repeats slowly. “Do I need to call a locksmith?”
Lacey bites her lip, grateful for Seth for thinking of that since all she’s done is blank out the world around her. Grateful to him for taking it on with her.
She shakes her head. “No. Just my wallet.” But as soon as she says it, her chest tightens with terror. She grabs his arm, making eye contact. “Seth. He knows where I live.”
She can’t stop it. The tremble in her voice. The icy chill seeping into her bones.
Seth’s jaw goes tight. He looks over at her, covers her hand with his. His long fingers slide under hers, scooping them up in a tender clasp, and instantly, she’s warmed. “It’ll be okay, okay?”
She stares at him, wanting to believe. Seth’s voice so confident, so determined, her entire body untenses as if it aches to lean into his words, his arms.
Lacey wets her lips. “Okay.”
Then his hand leaves hers and Seth’s out of the car, hustling over to her side, cracking the door. Lacey sucks in a breath as she tries to sit forward. Her stomach aches. Invisible wires tug at her sutures.
“Here.” Seth leans in the doorway, offers her a hand. She takes it, and he grasps her elbow. Slowly, wincing right along with her, he pulls her out of the car and into a kind of hunched-over standing position.
“Shit,” Lacey exhales, resting a hand on the car roof for support. She gulps in a few sharp breaths of air. Growls a sound of frustration. “This hurts.”
“C’mon,” Seth urges, his eyes full of sympathy. “Lean on me.”
She does, pressing her entire body up against him, the steadying warmth of him cloaking her like a blanket. Close enough that she can see the crystal blue of his eyes, his chiseled profile.
She stiffens as Seth wraps an arm around her waist to guide her up to the sidewalk path that leads to the apartment gate. Only then does she realize she’s practically sniffing him, drinking in his familiar scent like she’s trying to huff paint. Warm cedar and sawdust. Holy shit, what is she doing? Clearly, she’s traumatized. Quickly, she jerks away from him, breaking their connection, and Seth steps back, an amused smile on his face.
“Which one is yours?” he asks, eyes scanning the complex. The boring sand colors with rotting palm trees. The garbage pails full of trash. Lacey feels her face flush with secondhand embarrassment.
“Upstairs. Third floor.”
“Of course it is.”
“There are elevators, Seth.”
He smirks. “Lead the way. I’ll tag along, while you hobble.”
She ignores him. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she walks as fast as she can for the keypad, very much aware Seth’s trailing behind her at a slow lope, letting her lead.
Never mind the razor-like pain in her side. The stabby pains that accompany her every footstep. All Lacey wants to do is get home and then get Seth out.