“So”—she shrugged and gestured at the restaurant—“this looks nice.”
“It’s awesome.” When I looped my arm through hers, she stiffened, once again reminding me that I wasn’t her favorite sister. I wasn’t the one who had anything in common with her. I was the outcast, little Avery Bug, with her sports and her braces. Pulling away would have made things more awkward, so I held my chin high as we walked into Lowell’s together.
The hostess seated us at a nice table for four in the back corner, which was dark enough to cover any sort of bloodstains, in case Kayla decided to turn her steak knife on me.
She ordered a glass of wine, and I got the same thing, not because I wanted it, but so Kayla wouldn’t have to drink alone.
She stared down at the table.
Kayla’s reddish-blonde hair was pulled into a low, tight bun. She wore minimal makeup, and her black slacks and black blouse made her appear more sophisticated than I could ever hope to look. Even on a teacher’s salary, she was dressed like some millionaire’s wife out having drinks after spending all day on her veranda getting fed grapes.
“So”—she sipped her wine and stared at her fork—“you and Lucas.”
Here we go.
Just say what Lucas said and explain the story, make it sound real. Except. It wasn’t real. None of it.
I opened my mouth just as someone approached our table.
“We’re not ready yet,” I barked out without even looking up.
Whoever it was scurried away.
Kayla finally made eye contact. It killed me that her eyes were filled with tears, that I was lying to her to protect Lucas and bring our families together again—and that the mess was partially my fault. Lucas and I were in it together, but for some reason I didn’t want her to think the worst of him. Memories of my time with Lucas for all of those years hit me square in the face.
It was getting harder and harder to ignore the truth of what had happened between Lucas and me.
That night, years before.
I just had no idea why it was okay for me to hate him—but nobody else.
Kayla sighed, and her lower lip wobbled. “He’s a good guy,” she said. “I think—I mean, he panicked. I get why. We’d been together since junior high, and he was drunk that night. I don’t forgive him, but . . . Brooke even admitted that nothing happened. He stumbled into her room by accident, you know?”
I fought back a snort. “Yeah, he’s . . . great.” At stumbling into EVERY room.
Hell, one might even say he had a revolving door to his own room!
“We would have never worked out.” She clutched the stem of her wineglass too tightly, and I was afraid she was going to either shatter the glass or spill the wine. “I know that now. Besides, we hadn’t had sex in forever.”
“Um, Kayla—”
“I mean, that’s not normal, right?” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “Six months! We hadn’t slept together in six months. And look, I’m not blaming you, but all he wanted to do was hang out with you. You always had a soccer game, or work that he drove you to, or whatever. The whole situation isn’t even a big deal anymore, but in the end you guys were like best friends. I was too busy with grad school to really notice.”
I felt like I was going to puke.
Because if Kayla’s memory of the no-sex timing served.
He stopped having sex with her.
The very first night we almost kissed.
But that could mean anything.
Plus between starting his new job and wedding planning, he’d probably been exhausted.
And I’d been downright terrified over all the feelings I had for him and the looks we gave each other when we hung out.
I downed the rest of my wine and nodded. “You guys were both just really busy, going in different directions.”
“I need you to be honest with me, Avery.” Kayla leaned forward. “Did you sleep with Lucas when we were together?”
“WHAT?” I yelled. “No, Kayla, believe me, I would NEVER have done that to you.”
“So you guys never kissed or anything?”
I opened my mouth to deny it—but I hesitated. Because we had kissed, the night that changed everything. But he was drunk.
“No,” I lied. Hating myself for it. Hating him all over again for breaking up my family. And to what aim? When, in the end, he simply moved on to having six or seven girls at a time and left us behind—left me behind.
“Don’t lie to me, Avery Bug.” Tears spilled onto Kayla’s cheeks again.
I was just about to confess everything when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas enter the restaurant.
Kayla started to turn just as Chelsea sat down with him. Oh holy hot dog, no, no, just . . .
“OH NO!” I yelled, purposely spilling my wine all over the table.
Hopefully, the racket was loud enough to gain his attention.
And it was.
But the minute Kayla looked where I was looking, it was too late.
He was at dinner with another girl.
I was at dinner with his ex.
Oh dear.
To his credit, Lucas smiled, waved, and got up. He said something to Chelsea that I’m sure meant he’d make up for it later—in the bedroom—for having to abandon her unexpectedly and sauntered over to us while she gathered her things and left.
Damn the man. He didn’t have a right to look so good in a suit jacket.
Kayla started shaking.
I wasn’t sure who I felt worse for: her, Chelsea, or Satan, as he made his way toward us, his jaw twitching like he was clenching his teeth.
“Hey, um, hey there . . . baby.” I choked and threw my arms around his neck.
He wheezed, coughed, then did what Lucas Thorn always does when he’s cornered by a female—he kissed me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
LUCAS
It was hard to feel disappointed about losing yet another one of my girls when my lips were in the process of plundering Avery’s mouth—with the aid of my tongue. Ten more minutes, and I was going to be tossing her over my shoulder.
Because that’s what a grown man did in fancy restaurants—screw a girl he wasn’t even on a date with, against the very table where his ex-fiancée is seated.
Perfect plan.
“Chelsea works here, thus the gift card I got for you,” I whispered against Avery’s ear. Since I was in that general vicinity I decided a slow nibble wouldn’t hurt. She let out a little squeak, tightening her arms around my neck.
It felt too real.
All of it.
And I wanted that, the realness, the feel of her body against mine, her smooth curves filling my hands, her fingers stretched across my neck—and then slowly, sadly, she pulled away and hung her head. “I missed you.”
“Surprise!” I said, trying to wing it. “I figured you would come here, so I had Chelsea get me a table far enough away from the drama so I could at least intervene if need be.”
“How heroic.” Avery blinked and then nodded toward Kayla.
I didn’t want to look at Kayla.
I didn’t want to talk to her.
I didn’t want to be put in a position where I had to explain myself to the very woman who I’d left at the altar—because I was in love with her little sister.