I turned around just in time to see Jess wipe away a tear and look down at her coffee.
She’d seen the kiss.
But she knew the rules.
I refused to feel guilty about the way I dated—the life I lived.
“So . . .” I sat down. “You were saying.”
“How can you do it?” She didn’t make eye contact, just stared down at her coffee again, then grabbed a green straw and started twisting it tightly between her fingers. “You have seven girls for seven days. And you’ve never fallen in love with one of them? Not ever?”
“Jess . . .” Honestly, I didn’t want to have this conversation with her. She’d been one of my favorites, always positive, exuberant in bed, willing to try anything, and I do mean anything, but sometimes, you need to cut the apron strings. “When we started dating, I told you, if you weren’t comfortable with my lifestyle that you always had an option to leave. It’s not like you signed some sort of psychotic ironclad contract that says I own you.”
She stared me down, eyebrows both arched. “You do realize that sounds exactly like something you would do, right?”
“Very funny.” She didn’t need to know that I once went to a lawyer and asked if I needed some sort of contract so I couldn’t get sued if one of the girls got pissed or something.
But as long as I had a verbal agreement from every girl that she fully understood I was dating a plethora of women and that she was one of many, I was good to go. Lucky me! Lucky them.
“Go.” I grabbed her hand and kissed it. “You know, Fridays always were my favorite,” I said, laying it on thick.
“Oh please.” She snorted out a laugh. “I’ve seen your Monday, remember?”
“Ah, Molly.” I laughed. “You’re all beautiful.”
“I think that’s the problem.” Jess frowned. “We’re all interchangeable. We may look different, have different body types, represent various races and demographics, but in the end, we’re just another way for you to please yourself. Not that you don’t please us, or me, I just . . .” She shook her head. “It’s too confusing, like being on The Bachelor without the possibility of getting you in the end.”
“Trust me, you don’t want me all to yourself. Done that once, it didn’t end well. I can’t be trusted, and that’s the truth.”
“That,” she said, standing, “makes me sad.”
“It shouldn’t.” I shrugged it off. “It’s life, Jess.”
“Life is more than sleeping with a different woman every day, Lucas.”
“Are you sure about that?” I winked, then eyed her up and down. “Because I’m pretty sure I love it.”
“Pig.”
“Love you too, beautiful.” I pulled her into my arms and kissed her temple. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Hah!” She swatted me on the chest. “You’ll have a new Friday by lunch.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I pulled my sunglasses from my pocket and put them on before grabbing my coffee. “Let me walk you out.”
“And there it is.”
“What?” I opened the door for her and followed. “There what is?”
The Seattle morning was perfect; sun peeked through the thin clouds, causing a pretty glow to land across Jess’s face. “You’re a total asshole yet a complete gentleman at the same time. What’s worse is I can’t hate you. Even when I saw you kiss another woman five minutes ago, my only thought was, ‘She seems nice—I see what he sees in her.’ That’s the Lucas Thorn effect.” She stabbed at my chest with a finger. “You make cheating okay.”
“If you know about it—and all parties agree to it—it’s okay.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She shrugged. “Because I got you Fridays, but every other day? You belonged to someone else. That is never okay, no matter how charming you are.”
“A compliment—I’m touched.” I shoved a hand in my pocket. “So what will you do now? Get married? Have a ton of kids? Buy a house?”
Her smile was warm. “Maybe.”
“Good. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”
She burst out laughing. “You know? I just might.”
“They all do.”
Her laughter stopped, and she stared at me, her eyes sad. “I hope one day you find what you’re looking for.”
“Bye, Jess.” I turned and didn’t look back.
I never did.
Chapter Two
AVERY
“Just one more time,” I pleaded, my eyes filled with tears. I seriously needed this internship since the last company I worked for—an Internet start-up—had to let go of ten of its lower-level employees.
Which meant.
Since I was just out of college and had only worked there for a few months.
I was shown the door.
At least it was a nice door.
Red.
And big enough to fit at least three of us side by side as they quite literally pushed us out of the building.
The celebratory Hey, you got a job! plant my parents had given me—also the first one I’d managed to keep alive—fell out of my hands from the bluntness of the shove.
My cubicle partner cried.
It had been a sad day for everyone.
Now a pregnant lady was supposed to be showing me the ropes for my new internship position under one of the VPs of the company. Her name was Sharon . . . or maybe Sharie? I’d been so flipping nervous when she’d introduced herself that I couldn’t remember which it was. Anyway, she was saying words I didn’t understand and looked about two minutes away from popping. It was a miserable start, and she didn’t have much time to train me on all my actual duties and responsibilities.
Her giant belly had grazed the front of the desk as she made her way around to me. “Look, Avery, it’s not that hard. You get coffee, you fix the copy machine, and you make sure his dry cleaning is delivered every morning. He’s one of the easiest of the VPs to work with. Hell, most days he gets his own damn dry cleaning and brings me coffee, so believe me when I say you’ll be just fine. You’ll work closely with him on every project.” She let out a rough exhale. “And at the end of the eight-week internship, he’ll grade you on your work. If you do well, you’ll get offered a permanent position.” Her face contorted a bit as she bent over and gripped the counter.
Oh my hell.
Was she going into labor?
Now?
In the office?
I didn’t know CPR.
Not that she would need CPR, or that the baby would. Ahh! I was a nervous wreck. “Are you okay?”
I patted her awkwardly on the back.
She quickly straightened and let out a little sigh. “The baby’s trying to move, and space is limited in there.”
“You don’t say.” I smiled through my teeth. The woman was tiny; I was surprised she’d made it this far without popping. “Are you having twins?”
Her glare said it all.
“I was kidding,” I said quickly.