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“Because…” I go blank. If there is one thing I struggle with, it’s admitting that I deserve anything. Why should he give it to me? I can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t sound stupid. “Because I’m a hard worker,” I finally say. “And because I think I can learn a lot from you.”
He nods, a slight smile on his lips as he examines my application. A flicker of recognition passes his eyes. “You go to Sydney University?” he asks.
I nod.
“A solid school. And your marks are very strong. Academically you’re probably the strongest out of all the applicants, but I’m not convinced this is something you really want.”
I stare at him, alarmed. Am I really giving him that vibe?
“I promise you I want this more than anyone else you’ve interviewed,” I say, my voice bordering on pleading.
He stares at me, long and hard, before finally clearing his throat. “Thanks for your time, Ms. Anderson. I’ll be in touch once I’ve had a chance to go over everything. Is there anything you’d like to add?” he asks.
“No, just that I’m willing to do anything if you give me a chance,” I blurt out.
He raises an eyebrow, and I blush furiously and then curse myself for letting my mind go there. Smirking, he stands up and leads me over to the door.
“Thank you for coming down here to meet with me. I’ll be in touch.”
I walk out and he closes the door behind me. I walk down the hall, not letting myself breathe until I’ve reached the safety of the elevator. Impatiently, I hit the button, and then I hit it again thirty seconds later. Finally, it opens.
“Fuck,” I hiss as I step inside. Tears sting my eyes as the doors close. Thankfully I’m alone, so there is no one to see me cry—only my sad reflection in the mirrored wall.
I couldn’t have stuffed that up any harder if I’d tried.
Chapter Seven
Lucas
It’s late Wednesday evening. I’ve been banging on Lacey’s door for what feels like forever and nobody is answering. I’m pretty sure she’s home, because her car is in the driveway.
“Lace,” I holler, cupping my hands around my mouth. I hear footsteps, and then the door opens and Lacey stands there, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
She steps aside, her expression sullen. I squeeze past her, trying to ignore the feel of her body against mine and the sweet smell of her shampoo. I feel myself harden and quickly turn away. Not that she’d notice. She’s so lost in her own little world at the moment I could be waving my dick in her face and it wouldn’t get a response.
“I’m guessing the interview didn’t go well?” I ask. I shove my hands in my pockets and follow her into the living room, the happiness I’m feeling tinged with guilt. I’m such a shit friend.
“I made myself look like a complete tool,” she mumbles, rubbing her temples. She catches sight of her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace and laughs. “God, I’m a mess.” Her long dark hair hangs freely around her face in soft waves. I resist the urge to reach out and stroke it, because even without touching it, I can see how soft it is. She has no idea how fucking beautiful she really is.
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” I say.
I walk over to her and throw my arms around her, sensing she can use a hug. She falls into my embrace and sighs. My lips touch her cheek and I sigh, breathing in her scent. I could stand here and hold her forever.
“Was I right? Is he an arsehole?” I’m only half joking, but she laughs.
She looks up at me, leaning her chin against my chest. She makes it so fucking hard to resist her, yet I force myself to do it, day after day. It’s no fucking wonder that I’m always tired.
“He was nice. I just felt like such a ditz. There’s no way I’m getting it.”
“Did he say why he wanted a forensic psych major?” I ask casually. As thrilled as I am, I can’t shake the feeling that there is more to all this.
“Because of the case he’s working on, I’m guessing,” she replies, shrugging. “That is the only thing that makes me glad I’m not going to get it. I’m not sure I’d handle being in the same room as Duane Fairgone.”
“As in the guy who killed that kid?” I ask.
Lacey nods. I smile sympathetically. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew Lacey’s cousin was murdered by a psychopath when she was thirteen. While I understand why that kind of experience could make you want a career in forensic psychology, it’s also a damn good reason for why you wouldn’t. I’ve always wondered how she’d go dealing with cases that are so close to home, and you don’t get much closer than Duane Fairgone. “That had you thinking about Allie?”
She nods. “I couldn’t get my head straight. My thoughts were all muddled and everything came out wrong. I’m sure he thinks I’m some crazy, narrow-minded girl, which is so far from the truth. It’s just thinking about what happened to Allie…” She shudders. “You never think those kinds of things happen to people you know. It’s so much easier to believe the world is a nice safe place when you don’t have firsthand experience with that kind of horror.”
