Lucas reached for my packed laptop bag and hung it across his chest. “Let’s go home, then.” He took a tiny step backward, letting me through first. “After you,preciosa.”
My step faltered at hearing that word again, but I kept moving forward.
Let’s go home, then.
Home. With Lucas.
Not for much longer, though.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Lucas
Jealousy. That was new.
It was nothing like those quick and thoughtless gut reactions I’d experienced in the past. Oh no, this was more intense than fast, and certainly not thoughtless. It was the full thing. The full-on blood-boiling, gut-wrenching, want-to-growl thing.
I’d wanted to say something back at the café. I’d wanted to mark my territory and saymine, like a Neanderthal. An animal.
Just like I’d behaved at the Halloween party.
But I wasn’t supposed to think about that.
I’d tried my best these past few days, and failed. I’d tried to pretend that those moments in that stall weren’t all I thought of when Rosie bit her lip in thought, or when she came close and I got a whiff of her scent, or when our hands brushed reaching for the salt and caramel popcorn I made for her.
Some days, I found excuses to touch her. I’d tell her she had something in her hair. Or that I’d thought there had been something clinging to her clothes. Sometimes, I reached for her and didn’t come up with an excuse in time so I just smiled at her like a total idiot, and hoped for the best.
And here I was, feeling jealous. Like I had any right to claim ownership over Rosie after a couple of experimental dates and whispering some dirty words in her ear.
How did I dare to call her mine after just that?
She deserved men in tuxedos that took her to fancy places in Manhattan. And I… didn’t even own a tux. I didn’t even have a button-down shirt or a blazer with me, for crying out loud.
It was laughable, really.
No wonder Lina had flipped at the idea of us becoming… whatever, everything, anything.
“Lucas?” Rosie’s voice drew my attention back to her as we exited the subway station closest to our place.Our place,which wasn’t even ours and we wouldn’t be sharing for much longer.
I sighed. “Yeah, Ro?”
“I’ve been thinking,” she said so slowly that it made me glance over at her. “Actually, I haven’t been thinking this for long, but I was wondering, you know, now that I’m writing, and our experiment is working, if it makes sense anymore.”
My fingers tightened around the bag I was carrying. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve helped me so much already, you know? I think I might have everything under control. It has been all slowly coming to me, and I’m no longer lost, poking around in a fog. And we said we wouldn’t allow this arrangement to put any awkwardness between us but I…” She blew air through her mouth. “I… I don’t know, Lucas, it felt a little awkward at the coffee shop so I just—”
She stopped herself. She was looking everywhere but at me, and I didn’t like that. Not one bit. Because I wanted her eyes on me, especially if she was talking about something important.
I came to a stop on the sidewalk and waited until she met my gaze. “Do you want to date him? Aiden?” I asked, keeping my voice as light as I possibly could. Because if that was the reason, I wanted to hear it. I needed to hear it. “You want to go on real dates?”
I wanted to take back the wordreal, because whatever had happened between us, on those two experimental dates or even at theMasquerade Ball, hadn’t been faked, forced, ornot realin any way. But I’d used it, because if she wanted real dates with other men, who was I to stop her?
But Rosie didn’t seem to mind my use of the word and I’d be lying if I said that that didn’t sting. “Maybe I want the real thing. Not with Aiden, but maybe I want the real dates.”
Of course, she did.
And that felt like a sucker punch to the gut.