Lucas Page 32
I stare at her, wanting more.
She downs the aspirin with her water, then says, “A while back they worked together on a massive development project.” She fixes the loose strands of hair across her brow. “Lance had investors come through from all across the country, and there was a big meeting. Tom and my husband were supposed to head the meeting. Tom showed up… inebriated, and blew the deal.”
“He was drunk?” I whisper.
She nods. “He’d just lost his wife…”
“Oh.”
“Are you close with the Prestons?” she asks, patting the swelling formed under her eye.
I don’t respond. Instead, I lower my voice, lean in closer. “Mrs. Kennedy… my dad’s girlfriend is a police officer and—”
The kitchen door opens and we pull apart, our eyes snapping to the sound. Cooper stands just inside, his gaze shifting between his mother and me. “I was looking for you,” he tells me, his jaw tense.
“I was thirsty,” I respond.
He steps toward us, his hand out for me, but his words for his mom. “You okay?”
She nods, smiles at him like mothers are supposed to smile at their children. “I’m fine. Had a little too much to drink and well, you know the rest.”
Cooper visibly swallows, plays her game, too. He takes my hand, helps me off the stool. Then he reaches out, his hand as shaky as hers as he cups her cheek, kisses her forehead like he does with me. “I love you, Ma.”
She chokes on a sob, grasping his wrist. “I love you, too, son.”
We go back to his room, back to his bed, where he holds me tight, his body curled into a ball as he lays his head on my shoulder.
“Lois?”
“Yeah?”
I expect him to tell me to ignore what I saw downstairs, to swear to secrecy, to apologize that I had to see it at all. But he looks up at me, his gaze searching mine. He exhales, his breath warm against my lips. “I’m falling so deeply in love with you.”
My mouth opens, but he doesn’t let me speak. Instead, his mouth covers mine, urgent and needy. Then he shifts until he’s on top of me, his knees parting mine.
We don’t make love.
He fucks me.
Hard and fast.
Because he’s hurting.
And I’m hurting for him.
So I let him.
Because he’s not the only one falling deep, deep, deeply in love.
Chapter Fifteen
LUCAS
“Laney’s here!”
I startle awake. Rub my eyes. Metaphorically open my ears to see if I’d been dreaming.
“Laney’s here! Laney’s here! Laney’s here!”
Nope.
Not a dream.
I throw the covers off me, get out of bed. I skipped my run this morning; my motivation lost somewhere amidst the chaos of my life. I go to the bathroom, pour half a tube of toothpaste in my mouth, then proceed to cough and splutter as I attempt to swallow it while I slip on some clothes and shoes. I open the apartment door just as Laney steps out of a black truck I’d never seen before. “Hey, rock star!” she shouts to Lachlan, currently flying down the porch steps to get to her.
I’m a lot calmer than he was when I descend from the apartment stairs and walk over to her.
“Hey, Lucas,” she says.
I point to the truck. “Did you get a car?”
She shakes her head, her smile as warm as the morning sun. “It’s Cooper’s gardener’s.”
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I rock back on my heels. “Of course he has a gardener.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” she laughs out, and that sound alone chips away at the cold, hard ice surrounding my heart.
“So what are you doing here?” I ask.
“I called your dad,” she says, grimacing as if she’s unsure she should be here. She’s always welcome here. This is her home, too. “I was hoping to get some time in with the Preston boys.”
“They’d like that.” I say they when I mean me.
She shuffles her feet, her hands clasped in front of her. “I feel like I have to tell you something,” she says.
“Okay…?”
“I kind of knew about Leo… I mean before you told me yesterday.” It’s the most she’s said to me since that night, and I bask in her voice, in her words, one after the other, and I wish she were holding me like she did in the tunnel because her touch is like oil, and my pain is the water. She creates a divide when I could be drowning.
I clear my throat, come back to the conversation. “You did?”
“Well, when we were younger, he’d always walk around with a book and I noticed it was the same book for weeks, and when I asked him what he thought of it, he’d kind of just shut down. Then he told me he had trouble reading, and I tried to help him through it. Once a week we’d meet up at the playground and read. Obviously, I didn’t help enough, and I’m sorry because I should’ve told you or your dad, he was just really embarrassed about it so…”
“So you were a good friend to him. You don’t need to apologize” My fingers itch to touch you, Lane. “I’m sorry for dumping all that stuff on you yesterday. It was just—”
Leo steps out of the house then, the screen door slamming shut behind him, putting an end to my apology.
Lane and Leo walk side by side, away from the house, away from me. They speak in hushed tones, sharing secrets and sorrow. And it dawns on me now why Leo had been so upfront about his feelings toward me, about how badly I treated her. Because he knew her. One-on-one. And he loves her, maybe even as much as I do.
They return an hour later and it’s Logan’s turn. He doesn’t get the same treatment. She yanks on his ear, physically drags him down the steps, and then she kicks his ass. Literally, kicks his ass. He jumps, surprised.
I laugh, not at all surprised.
Then I sit in the living room of the main house and pretend to watch TV—something I never do because the shows I want to watch are too mature for the boys who want to watch them with me. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m just waiting for the second hand to tick over until it’s my turn with Laney. I want that time with her, one-on-one, so we can do something I’ve wanted to do for what feels like forever.
Talk.
I just want to talk to her, to go back to the way things were, and if all she wants to talk about is Cooper, I’ll sit and I’ll listen and I’ll do my best not to show her that it’s killing me to have to do that.
Another hour passes and Logan returns, his general angry, broody mood replaced with laughter because Laney has the power to find light in the darkest of days and the darkest of moods. “Can I borrow the minivan?” she asks my dad.
He hands her the keys, no questions.
She steps out of the house, calls out to the twins wrestling in the front yard. “Feel like kicking my ass at the batting cages?” she asks.
They immediately stop what they’re doing, grab their gear, and get into the car with her.
Another hour.
Well, an hour and six minutes to be exact, and I have no idea what’s happening on the television, I just know that there are two Preston boys left, and I’m one of them.