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She glanced up at me and licked her lips. "That's true. But the story I told makes us both look better, Lucas. Would you have preferred me to say that I was just drunk and fucking with rich people by telling them my name was Mallory? And that my brother lied to both of us to break us up in college?"
There was no way around it. I saw her point. It didn't mean I had to like it, but if this was how she wanted to handle it, if she preferred to twist the narrative with white lies to feel better about being thrown into the spotlight, then I had to respect that. But there was one thing I needed clarification on.
I leaned against the counter. "And the part about us dating? Why'd you add that? Because it would look bad if we lived together and were just fucking?"
She set the milk down and stepped around the counter. Taking my hands in hers, she took a deep breath. "I said that because I slept on the question you asked me last night." She lifted her gaze to meet mine. "I want to be your girlfriend, Lucas."
A smile stretched across my face. "You don't have to say that just to say it."
She weaved her hands around my neck, stood on her tip toes, and kissed me. With her arms still around me, she leaned back and cocked her head. "I'm saying it because I have feelings for you. And because you asked me to be your girlfriend ten years ago, and I thought it was sweet you wanted to do it again. And because I want you to be my boyfriend."
My arms linked around her back. "You do, huh?"
Nodding, she kissed my chest. "But there's something I want to do first."
"What's that?"
"Can we take Claire to the park today?"
I squeezed her tighter. "Of course we can."
She licked her lips. "Can we take her to the park and tell her that you're her dad?"
My heart skipped. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah, I'm serious," she laughed. "You are her dad. And if we're going to be a couple, then I want her to know that it's something special. After my last relationship, I told myself that I'd never introduce another man to her unless he was worth it. And you are. You're different."
Sudden emotion choked up in my throat, and I had to breathe through it.
"You okay?" she smiled.
I absorbed every curve of her face. "I don't think you know how much this means to me."
"I just want you to be happy, Lucas."
"And that's what I want for you too."
Leaning down, our lips met and our tongues greeted each other in passion.
"Ew!"
We broke apart at the sound of Claire's voice, and both Olive and I burst out laughing.
Could my life get any more wonderful than this? I didn't think that was possible. But why was there a voice in the back of my head, quietly whispering, “Careful, Lucas!”
15
OLIVE
As Claire sat in the backseat between Lucas and me, his driver got behind the wheel and pulled out of the garage. The last twenty four hours had unfolded in a whirlwind, and my mind was so conflicted with thoughts that I was barely aware of Claire and Lucas's conversation.
My heart was pounding in my chest. Was I really going to tell my daughter that Lucas was her father? I spent ten years of her life explaining that her dad was never in the picture, and now I was just going to throw this on her?
After the events of the last twenty-fours, it had become clear that this was my only choice. If Claire didn't find this out from me and Lucas, it would surely come out at school tomorrow. The wrath of the wigs were going to eat this shit up, and I knew how the world of gossiping unfolded.
Kids were sneaky, picking up on even the most subtle of details even when their parents didn't think they were listening. Worse, kids were parrots, repeating whatever they heard. And I refused to let her find out from some snot-nose bully.
I owed it to her to be prepared.
