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I dropped my eyes. “Julian.”
Lukas took a second to process that. “Fuckin’ prick,” he muttered.
I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Are you mad at me?”
“No. Why would I be mad at you?” Lukas asked genuinely. I paused and chewed on my lip.
“I can think of a reason.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
I slipped my hands in the back pocket of my shorts, taking a moment to answer. “I’ve been planning on seeing Ritchie. I lied about what he texted me for. He’s selling the house and he wants me to pick up some stuff.”
Lukas shook his head. “Really? Is this his way of asking you to pack and clean up for him? Because I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“No, he says there’s a box for me. From Gail. He said I should come get it and I kind of want to,” I said quietly. “He’s going to have a couple of old friends over and trust me, I’m not hoping to be buddies with them anymore, I’m just… so happy these days that I feel like I owe it to myself to try to tie up loose ends up there. There’s nothing I’d love more than to close up that chapter of my life on a positive note,” I said truthfully, trying not to let Lukas’s look of disapproval get to me. “Combined with the fact that I haven’t seen my dad in a long time and… well, basically I’m going. Tomorrow. I can’t do it any other day, I won’t have the time.”
Quiet, Lukas folded his arms. “I’ll go with you,” he said, prompting my eyebrows to lift high.
“You want to come with me to shitty little Warren, New York?”
“Yes. I need to be away from the city, anyway, and I don’t want you to see Ritchie alone. I don’t trust him.”
He sounded pissed but I couldn’t help the little smile twitching the corners of my mouth. “You being protective of me?”
“I’ve been.”
I sucked on my bottom lip. “Are you sure about this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because it’s a small town full of very curious people and more than likely, Ritchie’s going to have a couple friends at his house. They’re probably going to ask questions about you and that’s going to be before we get to my dad and uncle’s family. They’re going to ask if you’re my boyfriend and a bunch of other stupid, uncomfortable questions that’ll make you want to run for the hills.”
Lukas cracked a smile. “I’d love to pretend to be your boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” I laughed, somehow delighted and hurt at the same time. I was happy Lukas wanted to come with me. That he didn’t mind meeting my family. But I was quickly realizing that I didn’t share his contentment to just pretend.
I wanted to try the real thing.
I didn’t want to keep wondering what we were doing and how long my heart could take it. I wanted to hear him call me “baby” outside of sex. It was a complete one-eighty from my original position on the matter but apparently, people could change that fast.
Damn it, Lia. A million thoughts and wants swirled through my brain as I stood in the living room, watching Lukas move around the kitchen, undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, reaching for something in the fridge. He was just winding down from a long day and somehow, he was the picture of the home life I never knew and didn’t realize I wanted till now.
“Lukas?” my lips blurted before I could stop them.
“Yeah?” he turned around.
I paused when I saw him set two wine glasses on the table, pouring unevenly and coming over to give me the bigger one. His shirt was fully unbuttoned, giving me a preview of that chest, those abs that I couldn’t get enough of. With a little toast, we touched our glasses, eyeing each other as we took the first sip. Then I found myself watching again, transfixed by the sight of Lukas simply setting his drink on the table, sitting down on the couch and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Can I give you a massage?” I asked, smiling at the twitch of surprise in his brow. He looked up at me with bright eyes.
“I actually can’t think of anything I need more right now than a massage from you.”
I smiled at the word “need.” God, I was so easy.
And just like that, I forgot the original thought I had on my tongue. Wedging my body between Lukas and the back of the couch, I pressed the heels of my palms up his hard back till I could knead his strong shoulders, his neck. Each low rumble I drew out from his chest was like a little trophy to me. I loved hearing the sound. It was deep, sexy and intimate. I could listen to it all night.
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I kept massaging him, grinning and giggling as he rubbed my feet in his lap. God, did he have any idea what he was doing to me? What kind of sweet, intimate, couple-relaxing-at-home fantasies he was putt
