Lucas : A Preston Brothers Novel (Book 1)(30)

With a smile, she says, “I’m glad you guys are getting along so well.”

“You know what they say, right? Keep your friends close, your enemies closer…”

“Lucas,” she warns.

I nudge her side. “I’m kidding.” For forty-six long ass seconds, we walk in silence. Then I say, “Not that it matters, but I just wanted you to know that I won’t be around for a few days.”

“Really? Why?”

“I’m going to hit up Vegas with Lucy and her friends—kind of like their honeymoon.”

She stops walking. “Vegas?”

“Yeah.”

“Does your dad know?”

“No,” I say through a chuckle. “He thinks I’m visiting Jason in Jersey.”

She chews on her lip, looks down at her feet. “Vegas, huh? It’s like stripper capital, right?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really going for the strippers.” I laugh.

She looks back up at me, her brow knitted. “Then why are you going?”

“I just need to get away for a while, clear my head.”

“Is something going on? Are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay. I’m in love with you, Laney. And you’re in love with someone else. “I’m all good. Don’t worry about me.”

She starts walking again, slower than before. “So are you nervous about your speech?”

“Not really.”

“Have you got it planned out?”

I chuckle when she pats down my jacket, searching for the written speech. “I don’t have it written out if that’s what you’re looking for.”

She stops searching and pouts up at me. Yeah. I love Old Laney. “I’m sad I’m going to miss it. What are you going to say?”

“I don’t know.” We get to her boyfriend-bought car, and I lean against it. “It’ll be easy, though, I’ll just speak from my heart.”

She copies my position, our sides touching. “You should practice on me,” she says. “What better person is there to trust to tell you if it sucks than your best friend.”

I hide my smile, look down at the ground. Then I clear my throat, shove my hands in my pockets to keep me from touching her. “I guess I’m just going to talk about a boy—a kid, really—who fell in love with a girl at an age and a time when love felt bigger than the world around them. How he was her strength when she needed it, her voice when she didn’t have one. I’ll say something about the way he looks at her as if there’s no one and nothing else out there that could possibly hold his attention as much as she can…” I chance a peek in her direction, wondering if she can hear it in my words—that I’m speaking from my heart. But she’s looking down at her shoes, her breaths shaky. I add, “He’s always loved her, way before he realized that she loved him back. But I could see it in the way he looked at her. He hoped that one day she’d see him the way he saw her. And he saw her, Lane. I mean, Cameron—he was always able to read her—to see her in ways she didn’t see herself. He knew what she wanted, what she needed, and she never had to say a word. And I think, ultimately, that’s what true love is, you know? To want to be someone’s hero when they’re faced with villains. To want to be the one who saves them. To be their Wonderwall.” I choke on a sob, visions of Laney dancing with my dad in our living room filling my mind. I clear my throat again. “And I’ll end it by saying that I wish, more than anything, that I can one day be the man he is.”

Silence fills the space between us, while the laughter of the wedding party brings everyone else together. “Wow,” she whispers, sniffing once. “That didn’t suck at all.”

“You think?” I ask, stepping in front of her.

Her smile contradicts the sadness in her eyes. “I should go.”

“I know.” I swallow the pain of her pulling away. “Cooper’s waiting.” I reach around, open her door for her. She starts to get in but stops when I say her name. “Cooper might not be too thrilled with you showing up wearing my jacket,” I tell her.

“Right.” She quickly removes my jacket, hands it back to me.

I step back, watch her start the engine, hands on the steering wheel, getting ready to pull away, and I question myself. Wonder if this is worth the searing ache in my heart.

“Lucas,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “You already are that man. You just need to find a girl who’s going to make you want to prove that.” Then she drives away, farther and farther. More and more space.





LOIS





I pull over on the side of the road just outside the Preston property and I cry. I cry and I cry and I cry some more, and I don’t know why I cry but I can’t get Lucas’s words out of my mind, out of my system. I shouldn’t have shown up to his house the night of my birthday because now everything is blurred. The friendship, the feelings, the lines.

I settle my breaths, settle the beating of my heart and try to focus my vision, but like everything else, it, too, is blurred.

My phone rings, and I shut my eyes tight, knowing who it is. He’d been calling relentlessly for the past hour but I’d been selfish, enjoying the feeling of being part of the Prestons’ world again.

I clear my eyes, re-apply the little makeup I wear, force myself to smile and start the journey to his house. The security guard lets me through the gates, through the pristine streets, and onto the Kennedys’ driveway, and I can’t help but feel the shift of emotions when I stare up at the mansion, my skin crawling. Because I don’t belong here.

The front door’s unlocked so I let myself in, just like Cooper had suggested I do in one of the many texts he’d sent me. The house is dark, eerily silent, and fear runs up my spine, creeping deep in my chest. Ever since the night I met his mother after she “walked into the doorframe,” I’ve been afraid of what’s concealed by the walls of this home. It feels like walking into a haunted house during Halloween, monsters and secrets lurking in every corner.

“Cooper?” I call out.

He doesn’t respond, so I make my way up the stairs and toward his room. He’s here, sitting on the edge of the bed, in the dark, a bottle of bourbon in his hand.

“What are you doing, Coop?”

He doesn’t lift his head when he asks, “Did you have fun?”

I swallow, afraid. I’ve never seen Cooper like this, but there’s something in his tone that stops me from going to him. I stand by the door, my heart in my throat, my hands behind me. “Yeah,” I tell him. “It was a beautiful wedding.”

He faces me now, the light outside barely exposing the anger in his eyes. “You said you’d be here an hour ago,” he says. But I don’t hear him. I hear his father.

“I um…” I look down at the floor, unable to make eye contact. “I lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

He stands, his shadow reaching me before he does. “Are you into him?” he whispers, his body an inch from mine.

“Who? Cameron?”

I flinch when his hand slams on the wall beside me. “Lucas! Did you fuck him?”

“No!” I shout, looking up at him. “God, no!”

He punches the wall and I shut my eyes, press my lips tight, do everything I can to stop the tears because I fear the tears will make it worse. “I have to go.” I push him out of the way so I can turn for the door but he grasps my wrist, twists until the pain causes me to yelp.

He drops my hand as soon he hears it. “Fuck,” he whispers, switching on the light. His eyes are wide when I turn back to him, his face pale. “Lois…” He shakes his head, his breaths rushed. “I would never…” Then he grasps his hair, the anger in his eyes replaced with shock. Guilt slams into me, forcing a sob to escape. He’s so desperate, so defeated, and it’s my fault. I should’ve answered his calls, his pleas for some form of clarity. He sits on the bed and breaks down, his shoulders shaking with his withheld emotions. He says, “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know…” I can barely make out the words through his pain, and so I go to him, ignore my aching wrist and kneel in front of him. He looks up when I settle my hands on his legs. “I would never hurt you, Lois. You know I wouldn’t. You know, baby, you’ve seen—” He chokes on a breath, cutting him off, and I scoot closer, take his face in my hands. He grasps my wrist, gentle and safe, and he kisses it a thousand times over while his eyes meet mine, his distress palpable. “It doesn’t make sense. Why…?” He trails off, looks away.

“Why what?” I ask, my hand on his cheek, forcing him to face me.

“If nothing’s going on with you guys, then why didn’t you ask me to come with you?”

My guilt forces my heart to stop, but his phone rings, saving me from responding. He doesn’t go to answer it. He just stares at it flashing and vibrating on his nightstand.

“Are you going to answer it?”

“It’s just my dad. I was supposed to be at an important dinner meeting with him, but I couldn’t…” His jaw tenses. The phone stops ringing. “I couldn’t fake caring enough. Not tonight.” He looks back at me the same time his phone starts again.