Yeah. This new look suited him. Far more than the buzz cut one he sported on Instagram.
Before I knew what I was doing, I heard myself whisper, “Lucas?”
I saw the corner of his lips turn up before he whispered back, “Rosie?”
I chuckled. “I might still be a little tipsy. And I’m so tired, too. I might doze off if I don’t stand up right now.”
It was his turn to laugh. “You might,” he said, but then, his mouth fell and his neck somehow tensed. He rolled his head toward me and made sure to meet my gaze. “Does that worry you?”
I frowned, a little slow to follow.
His brows bunched up. “It shouldn’t. You know you’re safe with me, right?”
Oh.
Something in my stomach took a deep dive at the seriousness in his tone. “I know,” I told him. And I meant it. I did know I was safe with him.
His expression and shoulders relaxed, causing me a deep sense of satisfaction I didn’t understand.
“You know why I know?” I asked.
He waited for my answer.
“Because I know you noticed I was tipsy, and that’s why you insisted I stayed. You were making sure I was okay before I left.”
Nodding his head, he seemed to think about something. To my surprise, he turned back to the screen, and only when he was facing away, he lowered his voice and said, “Now quiet. I’m trying to watch my show.”
Which brought the stupidest smile to my face. Because it wasn’t his show. It was mine. My supernatural teen show filled with vampires and werewolves and magic rings and enchanted lockets and mystic cures and more than a fair share of over-the-top drama.
“Lucas?” I repeated after a few moments.
The corner of his mouth twitched again. “Yeah, Rosie?”
“Thank you.” For listening. And for tonight. And for making me feel… less alone. A little less burdened, even if only for a little while. “I think I really needed to talk to someone, and I want to make sure you know.”
He looked over at me again, and he must have seen the gravity of my words in my face because he asked, “What’s wrong?”
The wine had probably obliterated the last of my filters, and his expression was so kind, so gentle, that it was impossible not to answer.
“Remember my new dream?” I asked with a big, long sigh, bringing my hands between my cheek and the pillow underneath. “I have a deadline, for my second book, and I’m running out of time.” I lowered my voice to barely a whisper. “This is my chance to prove to myself that I didn’t make a mistake, Lucas. And I might not make it.”
A part of me realized I wasn’t telling him much. In fact, I was really telling him nothing about the real problem: me, feeling like someone was cutting off the oxygen supply every time I opened that manuscript; me, drowning in pressure, in paralyzing fear; me blocked. Stuck.
But Lucas just rolled his body, angling himself in my direction, and rested the side of his head on the cushion behind him, mirroring my posture.
His lips pressed in a stern line. “You’ll figure it out, Rosie.” His gaze burned with a confidence that I hadn’t yet earned. “You’ve gotten this far. I don’t need to know much about you to know that you’ll keep pushing. That’s what ballsy people do.”
Ballsy. I liked how it felt to be called ballsy. By him.
But I still wanted to tell him that he couldn’t know for sure. That I could be a fraud or a failure. I could have made a mistake rushing into this. But it was hard for me to be negative around Lucas when he managed to shine a bright light. “I hope you’re right.”
His voice lowered, turning solemn. “Want to bet on it?”
I chuckled. “I’d rather not.”
“Good, because it would be my easiest win.”
He smiled, and I think I did, too.
Time ticked by as we stared at each other, the show playing in the background. And at some point, seconds or minutes later, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and consciousness slowly slip away from me as an unexpected and vague thought took shape in my head.
What would have happened if Lucas had attended Lina and Aaron’s wedding? If we’d met that day? Would it have been this… easy, this effortless, to talk to him?
But before I could conjure an answer, sleep won the battle, taking me over with it.
CHAPTER SIX
Lucas
My eyes snapped open; a breath stuck in my throat.
One of my hands landed on my chest and I… couldn’t breathe.
I… Joder.
Slowly, I managed to force my fingers to rub circles over my rib cage, attempting to relieve the pressure gripping my lungs.