Page 26 of Yanked (Frenched 1.50)
My back stiffened. “You say a lot of things to me, too.”
“Mia, come on.” Lucas stood and wrapped his arms around me. “Let’s not argue. We have so little time together.”
It might have been the perfect opportunity to bring up what I’d come here to discuss, but I didn’t. Instead I thought about all the sweet things Lucas had said to me over the last eight months. Had he said them all to her first? If things with us fell apart, wouldn’t he say them to someone else in the future? My throat closed up. God, how fleeting and pointless love could seem when you thought about it that way. How empty the words we say become when drained of the feeling that made them so full.
I had no doubt that Lucas had meant the things he said to her, just like he meant what was saying to me now. He wasn’t a liar; it was just that his feelings had changed. Did that make things better or worse?
His feelings could change again. I knew it. He knew it. Wasn’t that, in fact, why he refused to commit beyond long distance dating? Because he was uncertain about how he’d feel in the future?
My body began to shake again, but this time it wasn’t anger rattling my bones.
It was fear.
“Oh, honey.” Lucas’s voice was gravelly but tender. His hands rubbed my back. “I love you. I don’t love anyone else. And I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel about you.”
My chin quivered. “You probably said that to her once.”
Lowering his lips to my shoulder, he rocked me gently side to side. “You know me. I don’t dwell on the past, and I don’t obsess over the future. I honestly don’t remember saying that to her, because I can’t remember what it feels like to love anyone but you. From the day we met, thoughts of you have consumed me. And the more I have of you, the more I want—it’s like I’ll never get enough.”
God, why did he have to say those things? Did he know what they did to me? “Do you really want more of me?”
“Of course I do.” He lifted his head and took my face in his hands. “I want all of you.”
Do it. Say it. Ask him.
A chorus of voices in my head urged me to do what I’d come here to do, but I couldn’t. I was too afraid—afraid of hearing no, afraid of hearing he didn’t love me enough, afraid of being forced to walk out of his life to preserve my dignity. And my dream.
“What’s going on in there?” Lucas tilted my head from side to side.
I closed my eyes, unable to say anything.
“Poor baby. Tonight’s been too much for you. I’m sorry.”
I tried to smile, although my heart was splintering. This isn’t going to work. I can’t go on like this. “I think you’re right. It’s been…a rough night.”
He embraced me again, rocking me back and forth as I fought another deluge of tears. “She’s out of my apartment after this weekend, I promise. I’ll text her I want her gone by Sunday night, OK?”
It doesn’t matter. “OK.”
“Tell you what. I’m hungry. Let’s order a bunch of room service, a bottle of wine, and watch a movie. I’ll make sure to get something with bacon, and I’ll even let you choose what we watch. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds perfect,” I said into his shoulder, resisting the urge to pummel my fists on his chest. I twined my arms around his waist instead, and we held each other close without saying a word. Why, why, why can’t things be different?
“And then I’m going to devote the rest of the night to making sure you know exactly how much I love you.” He kissed my temple. “How much I need you.” My cheek. “How much I want you.” My lips. “And if you don’t have at least three orgasms in the process, I’ll have to start all over again tomorrow.” He paused. “Actually that’s my plan for tomorrow as well.”
Goddamn it. “That sounds perfect too.”
Totally fucking perfect.
How would I ever find the strength to walk away?
5 Things That Are Amazing
Even When You’re Sad
1) Room Service—especially juicy bacon cheeseburgers served next to a mound of thick, crispy French fries.
2) A bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape drunk with a gorgeous French man in a luxury hotel room. Or any kind of room. Or any kind of wine, really.
