Chapter 11
ELEVEN
ANABELLE
Lucas’s shoulders stiffen, and he pulls away from me.
Something is wrong. Am I a bad kisser? Was it my breath? No, I’d had a mint in the car. It couldn’t be my breath. There’s no way I’m a bad kisser because Lucas was into it at first.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine. But it’s late. I should probably drive you back so you can get some rest.”
“We haven’t even eaten dinner yet. You said the food will be here soon. What’s going on with you?” I push. I’m not letting this go.
Lucas sighs. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
I cross my arms. “Not until you open up to me.”
“We’re moving too fast.” He avoids my gaze.
“All we did was kiss. That’s too fast? You’re a famous soccer player. I took you for the type to jump from woman to woman without a problem.”
“I was a famous soccer player,” he corrects me. “I haven’t been like that for a long time. And I’m not proud of those years.”
That’s fair. I’m not one to judge a person for something they did long ago.
He’s sitting with his arms crossed, his signature scowl back on his face.
“Was I bad at it?” I ask in a small voice.
“What?” His eyes go wide. “No!”
This is a man in full-blown panic mode. He takes my hands. “You were perfect. But that’s the problem.”
It’s unlike him to be so open with me, and I’m not sure if I like it or not. But at least he’s not letting me think I’m a bad kisser. Unless I really am, and he’s trying to spare my feelings. But that doesn’t seem to be Lucas’s style. He’s never been gentle with me. Why stop now?
“As soon as I’m able, I’m going back to Atlanta. I don’t have a life here.”
“You kind of do,” I counter. “You have your brother here.” And possibly me if he’d bother to give us a chance. But I’m still not sure that’s what I want either. What if we started dating, and I find out some dark secret that’s a deal breaker for me, like he has eternally stinky feet?
Except his shoes are off, and I smell nothing.
That’s a green flag if I ever saw one. See?
I’m getting to know him already. My brain is already arguing his case on one hand, and on the other, it’s condemning him before he’s even made a mistake.
He might be horrible, which might lead to a breakup, which might shatter Nolan, so why try?
But that reasoning is sound. And Lucas could wake up and be awful one day.
But as time has passed, he’s only proven to be more wonderful each day.
After what I’ve been through with Jeremy, I can’t help but be a skeptic. Which is why I need to take a step back as well. “I agree we need to cool things down. No more kissing or cuddling, but I wouldn’t mind being your friend.”
He holds my gaze for a moment before slowly nodding. “Deal.”
“Good. Does that mean I get to stay for the food?”
He cracks a smile. “I guess.”
I toss a pillow at him. “I can’t believe you were about to throw me out hungry.”
“I wasn’t going to throw you out.”
“Kinda seemed like it to me.”
He grimaces. “Fine. I panicked. I haven’t done this in a while. Not something this serious.”
“You keep saying I’m serious. Just friends, remember?” I grin at him.
He nods seriously. “Just friends.”
There’s a knock at the door, and he goes to open it, retrieving a bag of takeout containers from the guy standing there.
The room fills with the smell of beef and broccoli, and my mouth waters.
He turns on the TV and arranges the food on the coffee table.
“Your orange chicken is a solid choice.” I grab my chopsticks and steal a piece of chicken from his container. Yup. Tastes like heaven. “Mmm. This is delicious. I was starving.”
“You’re going to eat my food, huh?” he teases. “Is that what friends do?”
I shrug. “Sure. If they’re close enough.”
His gaze sears into me. “And how close of friends are we?”
“If I remember correctly, until recently, you were glaring at me like your enemy, so I’d say this is relatively new.” I grin and steal another piece of his chicken. “But I think we could make good friends. I’m still trying to decide about you.”
“And that entitles you to steal my chicken?”
I laugh. “You can have some of mine if that makes you feel better,” I offer.
He reaches over with a fork and stabs a piece of beef.
My eyes widen. “A fork? Really? Is that even allowed?”
“We won’t tell The Golden Dragon about it, and they’ll never find out,” he promises.
“You don’t know how to use chopsticks,” I accuse.
“I do, but I find them annoying,” he declares.
I stab into his chicken again.
“You do realize you haven’t touched your dinner, right?”
“Hmm,” I say, my mouth full. I swallow my food. “I’m suddenly hungry for yours.”
He shrugs and spears a piece of broccoli from my tray. “Yours is healthier anyway. I should be focusing on getting more protein instead of eating that breaded chicken with all that sugary sauce.”
“You’re killing my vibe over here.” I shove more chicken into my mouth, followed by fried rice.
He bumps his shoulder into mine. “I wouldn’t want to do that,” he rumbles in that deep voice of his.
A shiver chases down my spine. Now that I know how this guy can kiss, bury his hands in my hair, being only friends will be much harder.
Because a kiss like that stays with you forever. My eyes half close just remembering it.
“You really are in love.”
“What?” I screech a bit too forcefully.
His eyes twinkle. “With the chicken.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You looked like you were having a moment with your food over there.”
“Sure.” Something like that.
Only, it’s not the food making me feel warm and gooey inside.
It’s him. The way his shoulder brushed mine. The way he smiled at me like I’m more than Nolan’s mom. But what if I’m the only one feeling this? What if that kiss meant more to me than it did to him?
He smiles again, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
Is it just me, or is his grumpiness fading?