In a blur, I was left alone, dumbfounded and standing on the sidewalk while I watched the car’s taillights turn into two red spots in the distance.
Ironically, it was exactly then that my Uber arrived.
A while later, when I finally stepped inside the apartment, the encounter with Olly weighed so much on me that not even the sight of Lucas asleep with his mouth hanging open and our vampire show playing made me smile. After pulling a blanket over him, I tiptoed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, where I found a note he’d left on the counter. Dinner’s in the oven in case you’re hungry. And not even that made me smile. I didn’t even answer his text, and he still went through the trouble of cooking for two. Because he hadn’t written leftovers, he’d written the word dinner. And he’d made sure that the note was somewhere I’d see it. Waiting for me. In case I was hungry.
It should have made me smile. Grin like a fool, overwhelmed with giddiness, just like earlier. But it all had the opposite effect.
The situation with my writing, Lucas, my brother, even my dad. The complete mess that was my life. How big of a hypocrite I was for demanding the truth when all I did was keep secrets. Everything was… too much.
I was standing there, with the note in my hand, when I heard my name.
Lucas stood in the middle of the studio, about ten feet away from me. He held the blanket in one hand, and his hair pointed in all directions.
Summoning the best smile I could manage, I said, “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“I was only resting my eyes.” He blinked a few times, as if he was willing himself back to life. His eyes roamed around my face. “What’s wrong? Your dad—”
“No. Dad’s fine.” I shrugged, doing what we Grahams did best. Hide whatever was wrong. Swallow it up. “Nothing’s wrong, Lucas.”
He was silent for a long moment, looking at me. I knew what he was doing. He was worrying, wondering how he could make it better for me. Probably wondering if I was going to burst into tears again.
And the fact that he was doing all those things made me mad. Lucas was doing so much. And I was giving him nothing. Just the company of someone who moped around a lot.
I vowed in that moment that I’d do something for Lucas Martín. Something to make him happy.
“Hey, Rosie?”
I sighed. “Yeah?”
He looked at me with something that was a lot like that intensity from our experimental date, but different. Fiercer. Softer. “Do you want a hug?” he offered.
He was such a good man. But I wouldn’t have another breakdown in front of him after he’d done so much.
“No. It’s okay. I’m fine,” I whispered.
He was quiet for a few seconds. Then he said, “Do you think you can give me one, though? Maybe I’m the one who needs it.”
I swallowed, the urge to step forward and lunge myself at him invading me. But I didn’t, because I knew what he was doing. This was for my sake, not his.
Lucas caught on, because he went with something I wouldn’t be able to resist: “I really miss Taco today. So that hug would really help.” His voice was so deep and gentle, so soft. “Can I get one hug, Rosie?”
And as much as I knew that this hug was for my sake—because I must have looked like I was about to come apart at the seams—he still managed to make it look like I’d be giving him something precious if I said yes. Like I’d break his heart if I denied this one thing to him.
“Okay,” I heard myself say. Knowing with alarming certainty in that precise instant that I’d never be able to look into Lucas’s face and not give him whatever he asked from me. “Only if you need it that badly.”
It didn’t take him any time to cross the few feet between us and throw his arms around me.
Once more, I buried my face in his chest. But this time, I let myself lean into him. Completely. I gave myself the green light to give up. I inhaled his scent and relished how warm and big and solid he felt around me. I took as much strength from him as he was willing to give me. And I imagined this, his hug, his body, him, being my safe haven. My normal. My bad days, my good days. My every day.
“Thank you, Rosie.” I felt—more than heard—his chest rumble with the words. “I feel much, much better, now.”
My arms tightened around his torso, feeling every muscle, every bone underneath, every inch of warm skin under his shirt. Even the beat of his heart.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rosie
“Alessandro’s?” I asked when Lucas came to a stop in front of the pizzeria right around the corner from Lina’s building.