Like he’d promised me the other night.
Until I came here and saw it, I didn’t believe him.
I never thought he’d be able to pull it off, but he did.
In fact if you think about it, I never would’ve been able to talk to Lucas, if not forhim. If not for his intervening and setting the whole thing up.
And despite our very recent tiff, I’m thankful.
This party, even though out in the open, still seems as crowded as the one last night, but I find him easily.
Like the other night, Lucas is standing in a group chatting, minus the red cup. He senses me as soon as I move into his periphery.
A jolt goes through my system when his eyes flare in recognition.
I’m not going to lie, what happened the other night makes me want to turn back. It makes me want to abandon this plan and ask Reign to take me back to St. Mary’s. Because even though I’d said — all bravely and confidently — that I can handle myself, I have a very bad feeling that I might not be able to.
But.
It’s Lucas. It’s the love of my life.
I have to do this.
So I keep marching on.
Lucas watches my approach with an expression I can’t read. And without taking his eyes off me, he leans toward one of the guys, probably to excuse himself, and begins walking toward me as well.
“Hi,” I whisper when we reach each other.
He doesn’t respond to my greeting. Simply stares at me with impassive eyes.
I swallow and fist my dress. “I… Uh, how are you?”
I want to grimace.
What a lame opener.
Lame. Lame.Lame.
We’re talking after two years and this is what I come up with.
Although if he thinks it’s weird or lame, I don’t know. I can’t tell because he’s as blank as ever as he replies, “Okay.”
“Are you,” I clear my throat, feeling all kinds of awkward, “enjoying the party?”
That gets me a reaction, or a hint of it. When his lips curl into a small smile that doesn’t look anything like his old warm and loving ones. And I realize why when he murmurs, “Not as much as the one last night.”
Right.
Because of that threesome kissing that I’d found him in.
My heart cracks right down the middle then even though I tell myself, my heart, to not. I tell myself that I don’t have the right to get sad or jealous about it.
And neither do I have the right or the luxury to turn back.
Which is what I want to do. Again.
Only the urge is much stronger now.