I cock an eyebrow. “What if you ask me to tell you something I don’t want to talk about?”
“Then just say that rather than pretend like there’s nothing to say.”
“Will you do the same?” I need to know—that she’ll be always brutally honest with me. I can’t second-guess or wonder at hidden meanings. I’m not good at that kind of thing.
“Always,” she answers, her tone steady.
I believe her. Even if she told me the sky was red, I’d believe her because the alternative would be no more life with her. I’m craven, desperate, but I don’t care. I need this. I need her.
“Thank you,” I murmur, my gratitude extending not just to her, but whatever cosmic force out there brought her back to me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ava
I choose a grilled chicken sandwich and lobster bisque combo and decide to clean up while Lucas orders. The bathroom is swanky with a double vanity and huge Jacuzzi tub big enough to party in. Neatly folded white towels sit on an elegant marble pedestal, and I select a small washrag. I might’ve just left the semi-clear liquid on me—I actually think it’s sort of hot—but Lucas seemed really bothered by it.
Even if I’m not super adventurous about sex, I know men don’t generally find the sight of ejaculate on a woman they just had sex with a turnoff. Who hurt Lucas to make him feel like he did something wrong?
I wipe my belly clean and put on a robe. When I find out who’s been so cruel to him, I’ll make them pay. I don’t know how, but I’ll figure out a way.
Then I go still for a moment. Elizabeth told me his mother was a monster. Was this reaction because of his childhood? I’m tempted to ask, but I loathe bringing up something dark and ugly and marring our time together.
By the time I come out with an extra robe, he’s hanging up the phone. “Here,” I say.
He shrugs into the robe and gestures at the loveseat. “Sit. Lunch will be here soon.”
I curl up on the left side. “So. The answer.”
“You have a one-track mind, you know that?”
“You’re the one who left me hanging.” I haven’t forgotten the significance of our prematurely interrupted conversation.
He sits next to me and stretches out his legs. “When I crashed my bike, I felt like I was dying.”
The reminder of the horrible accident—how something as random and senseless like that could permanently take him away—chills my blood. I bring his hand to my lips and kiss the knuckles. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
His gaze softens for a moment before he continues, “And you know how people say when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes? Well, that’s what happened to me, except everything that passed was about you and our memories together.” He takes my hand and kisses it. “I knew then that you were the only thing that mattered.”
“And then I disappeared.” Because I couldn’t stand Blake’s cruel words or the possibility that Lucas had used me the way my father used my mom.
“Yeah.” He makes a little spreading gesture with the tips of his fingers. “Poof.”
“I’m sorry. We wasted so much time. If I hadn’t run…”
“Don’t. I could’ve gone after you, but I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I thought you’d come back once you realized what we had together and what you’d given up.”
The idea of him waiting for me makes me ache. He doesn’t know how hopeless that was because I never told him. “I would’ve never come back.”
Our food arrives. After the server sets up our table, Lucas signs the bill and takes the seat across me. He gestures at an array of beverages. “I ordered one of everything, since I didn’t know what you wanted.”
I take a Diet Coke and let it fizz into a heavy, square glass over ice. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.” He levers the cap off a beer. “So. You were saying…”