Memories of Kayla holding his hand and winking at me behind his back.
Being obsessed with him, lusting after his stupid body when I was a freshman. And the night he held me in his arms, his lips brushing my seventeen-year-old skin.
I wasn’t sure if I should block the glass case with my body or pull the fire alarm to distract him. I mean, was he over Kayla? The situation? I had no clue, but I did know that we needed to focus. To his credit Lucas completely ignored it. He put his professionalism first. I could learn a lot from him—loath as I was to admit it.
When he needed to be all business, he was.
Whereas I was having a minor anxiety attack, pitting out my shirt while my old principal sat a few rows in front of us and took notes about the new app.
I almost tripped on my heels when Lucas asked me a question, one that I had to answer out loud—like I was in class—in front of at least half of the teachers who had taught me four years ago.
Four years ago, when I’d graduated with bags under my eyes and a swollen face from crying.
He was supposed to be at my graduation.
He’d never made it.
Then again, understandable since Grandpa had said he’d wait in the truck just in case he spotted Lucas—maybe he could run him over without getting caught.
But still.
“Um . . .” Lucas smiled brightly at me.
I cleared my throat. “The stats show that if we give free access to the students, they’re ninety percent more likely to use the app to get homework done on time. Our research discovered that most high school students don’t complete their homework because they’re so busy with after-school activities that they don’t get started until pretty late at night or they’re too tired to finish.”
“Thanks, Avery.” Lucas smiled again and addressed the teachers. “We’re ready to move beyond the beta phase, so with your permission we’d like to implement this program immediately and see how the students react.”
The rest of the meeting went great.
But I was completely drained by the time I made it home. Maybe it was because I’d had to keep my emotions in check around Lucas. Or maybe it was because those halls reminded me of how lost I had felt when I no longer had him as my rock.
I slumped further into my kitchen chair, then snatched my beer, walked over to my living room—you know, like two feet away—and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of my laptop.
It was too late to go out—not that I had plans or anything. I’d lied about Carl. Who the hell was named Carl? And a dancer? What had I been thinking? Good call, Avery, bragging about dating a ballerino in front of Lucas. That would show him.
A man in tights.
Well, superheroes wore tights, so it was kind of the same thing, right?
My phone buzzed.
And the name Lucas Thorn popped up on my screen.
I stuck out my tongue, then finally answered. “Minion here.”
“Satan calling,” he snapped right back.
“Good one.”
“So how’s the date? You know, the one with all the sex?”
“It’s . . .” I looked around my empty apartment. Peeling paint clung desperately to the east wall near my bed, and my place smelled like old Chinese food and french fries. My stomach growled.
I had one beer left.
And leftover chow mein.
Just under a hundred dollars, and I still had five days before I’d get paid.
“Did you just sigh?” he asked.
“No.” I sighed again.
“Avery.”
“Thorn.”
“Be honest. Are you really out with Carl?”
“He, uh, had a recital.” I slapped my hand against my forehead. Great, Avery, because grown men had recitals?
Lucas was quiet for a moment. “Oh, so he teaches children, then?”
Thank God one of us was logical. “YES!”
“No need to shout it, Avery.”
“Oh, sorry, I just, um, got excited. You know, about the kids.”
“I bet.” He chuckled. “So, I was thinking . . .”
“Good for you, Thorn.”
He ignored me and pressed on. “Are you hungry?”
“Is this a trick?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
The spider in the corner continued to make itself at home while I made myself comfortable in the middle of the floor. “I’m always hungry.” There, that sounded good, not like the starving human I was. More like, oh cool, I could eat, when really my brain was screaming I would destroy an entire elephant right now, sorry not sorry.
“Answer your door.”
I gasped. “Did you order me PIZZA?”
“Why are you always yelling at me?”
“Sister. Wrong bed. Broken engagement. Whore—”
“I’m sorry, did you want food?”
“Yes!” I jumped to my feet and ran over to the door and pulled it open, then fumbled with my phone as I nearly dropped it onto the floor.
“Thorn.”
“I was in the neighborhood.” He grinned.
“What? Fighting crime?” Just then a loud scream erupted down the hall.
With a gasp, I grabbed his shirt and jerked him into the living room, then proceeded to lock every lock on my door.
The screaming got louder.
With a yawn, I turned around and took in Lucas’s wide-eyed expression.
“Are you sure you’re safe here?”
“Oh that?” I pointed at the door. “That’s nothing. Mr. Thompson just gets confused sometimes and walks into the wrong apartment while women are changing. His timing is impeccable.”
“So . . .” Lucas clutched two bags, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them. “Mr. Thompson is a peeping Tom who just randomly breaks into people’s apartments?”
“He doesn’t break in—I mean, not really. He opens the door, takes a step in, says he’s lost, and walks right back out. Harmless really.”
“Which is why you lock your door.”
“I refuse to let him become the only man to see me naked in a year.” I laughed and then smacked my hand against my forehead. “I mean—”
“Noooooo, you mean Carl’s not real? How are the dancing children by the way? Invisible?”
“Hey! That’s an actual real nonprofit.”
Lucas’s cleft just made his stupid smile look bigger, and more . . . mocking, and sexy, but I refused to find him sexy, so I forced myself to think his smile was stupid and ugly. “I know—I give to the cause.”
“Of course you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I marched over to where he was standing, which was like a foot away from me, given how small my apartment was, and snagged the take-out bag from his hands. “What do you have?”
“Easy.” He pried my hands from the bags. “You get food, but you have to do something for me first.”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “That’s cruel. You know how much I love food. How dare you use it as a way to get me to do you a favor! I have to work with you, isn’t that favor enough?”
Lucas sighed, his shoulders moving up and down with each exhale like he was so irritated with me his body couldn’t help but show it. “More like I have to put up with you and you have to put up with me.”