Page 23 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
“You know I adore you. Your greedy financial ways and all.”
I gave a playful slap to his hand and stopped myself from asking for more, from asking him why he adored me. It didn’t matter, did it? We were having one of those hot skyrocket affairs that would shoot to the moon in an incendiary sizzle, then burn out and crash. Or so I figured. I’d never experienced one of these fiery passions before, never aspired to. It hadn’t been the kind of thing I would contemplate or consider.
Until now.
“My point is that I identify with complicated parental relationships.” He shrugged. The gesture was one of my favorite things about him.
Sexy and endearing. He was cool like a James Dean, but at the same time, caring and passionate like . . . no one I’d ever met. Lucas was not afraid to share his feelings, to show his affection. Very Italian. I had a flicker of concern about what my very un-demonstrative Anglo parents might think.
In the end, I had to concede that my parents were very caring and loving in their own way and rose to the occasional occasion to demonstrate their feelings. They would be all right with Lucas because I’d brought him home.
The ridiculous import of the notion struck me then.
I’d never brought a man home before—not since Junior Prom and that hardly counted. Let alone for Christmas dinner. They were surely going to read way more into this than an accidental meetup, then hookup, then missed train and kind offer of a ride warranted.
This was by no means the kind of purposeful strategic bring-my-serious-man-home-to-meet-and-bond-with-the-parents occasion I had expected some time in my future.
A frisson of nerves moved me to say something to fill the thoughtful silence. “Tell me more.”
“You already know I ended up going to grad school at NYU. I’m in the industrial design program. Not strictly speaking an art student. But this direction has thawed my relationship with my father enough that they asked me to come home for the holidays when I usually don’t.”
“But you didn’t?”
He shook his head.
“I need to work. School isn’t free. Not to mention rent.” He paused, wrinkling his forehead in a way I hadn’t seen him do before. “But I don’t have to tell you that. I shouldn’t complain.”
He took my hand and put it to his lips. They were warm and irresistible. If we weren’t speeding along a highway, I would have leaned in and kissed him, but self-preservation prevailed over my lust. A refreshing change of pace since I’d met this compelling man.
And his reference to scraping for money caused barely a tic of annoyance. Maybe there was hope for me.
Maybe our sizzling affair wouldn’t sizzle out as quickly as I thought.
While I was trying to figure out if this was a good thing, Lucas continued to talk about his complicated parental relationship.
“You’re not the only one with pride. I refused the airline ticket my father sent. I’ll wait until I can afford one myself.”
“Brave of you.” I took a deep breath, suddenly fascinated with this brand of pride, which I didn’t bother pointing out to him was rather the opposite of my brand. Or so it seemed to me. But I had an urge, bordering on need, to ask the question I knew I was afraid to ask myself.
“What if you can never afford an airline ticket? What if you’re never that successful and you can never afford those extra things in life that make it exciting?”
He looked at me, his smile fading, and nodded his acknowledgment that this was a concern, or he acknowledged that it was a concern to me. Maybe not to him. He pulled the car over at an upcoming rest area and my heart started hammering like it had that day at the lawyer’s office when I’d found out I’d lost everything. I held onto the door handle with a death grip and tried not to look terrified.
“Your question speaks volumes about how you feel, and I understand,” he said. The car pulled to a stop and he turned off the engine. The sudden quiet inside the car made my pounding heart sound like a marching band. I didn’t want him to hear my horrified heartbeat and it was almost all I could hear now.
“Don’t worry,mia, it’s supposed to be scary. What good is life if you forget what it’s like to be on the edge, that you have something to lose?”
“Brave words.” I was lucky to utter any words without my teeth chattering with nervous panic. What the hell was wrong with me?
Get a grip, Melissa Cooper. You’re still better prepared than all the boy scouts of the world.
Lucas pulled the gloves off his hands. I hadn’t noticed the fine Italian leather before and recognized quality that must have cost a small fortune. Must have been a gift from his parents, one he didn’t decline.
With his hands bare, he held my face in them, leaning in and pulling me close, cupping my jaw on either side. It felt oddly comforting, supportive and meaningful. Everything he did felt meaningful to me. I’d turned into such a Needy Nancy.
“You will be fine. You are smart,” he stared with those intense soulful eyes, and spoke as if he were a wise old man, or at least his soul must be old. “You went to the Wharton School. You succeeded in a competitive business once and you could do it again. If you wanted to.”
Everything else he said flew out of my head as soon as he addedif you wanted to.
