Chapter 25 Now #3
Which is exactly why I announce, “I should probably get home.”
The second I say it, there’s a shift between us, like the night’s been winding toward this moment and I just hit fast-forward.
Lucas turns to me, his voice low, almost careful. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”
My thumb hovers over the screen. Do I want to stay? I’m not even sure what he means by that. Stay out? Stay with him? Stay in this oddly cinematic moment where we’re still just almost something and haven’t ruined it yet? I hit accept fare, because it’s the option that avoids any and all risk.
“Off the record?” Lucas asks.
I look up, but before I can answer, he just goes for it.
“I had a crush on you freshman year. You know that, right?”
I blink.
A crush? On me? The words take a second to register. We’re both a little tipsy and a little wind-chilled from the walk, yet suddenly I feel completely alert.
“Wait. What?”
He laughs under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought you knew.”
“I… No,” I say, too fast. “I didn’t.”
He looks at me then, really looks, and shrugs like it’s not a big deal—even though it is. “Guess I hid it better than I thought.”
As I stare at him, memories between us start crashing into each other all at once in my head.
Dining hall breakfast dates. Late-night study sessions.
The way he used to save me seats in class without saying anything.
The way I never questioned why. Falling asleep in his roommate’s bed, his face turned to me, his smile the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes.
Now I’m wondering how many moments I missed.
As if on cue, a red Altima pulls up, and the driver rolls her window down. “Ainsley?”
I nod, then turn back to Lucas as I stand. He’s already a few steps ahead, reaching for the car door handle. I follow, my fingers brushing the cold metal just as he opens it. But before I can slide into the back seat, his hand finds my arm—gentle, hesitant, but enough to make me freeze.
I glance up, and he’s closer now, close enough that the sounds of the city fade into nothing. His hand drops, but he doesn’t step back. For a split second, I think he’s going to let it go, that he’ll laugh it off like he always does.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, Lucas leans in, his movements slow and careful. I can feel my heart rate drastically increasing as his lips meet mine—warm and soft. His hand brushes lightly against my lower back while the other gently cups my jaw, his thumb grazing my cheek in a way that gives me butterflies.
He’s timid at first, like he’s testing the waters, his lips moving softly against mine, but there’s a pull beneath the surface, something deeper—something we’ve both been holding back.
My hands find his chest, steadying myself as the kiss deepens.
His lips part slightly, and his tongue meets mine, igniting a spark that spreads through me like a slow-burning flame.
The world stops and everything else fades away as I lean into him, caught in the quiet intensity of it all.
It’s tender and electric all at once, like how I’d imagine it feels the moment you pull the parachute while skydiving—safe yet thrilling.
This kiss is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
And just as quickly as it started, it’s over.
Lucas pulls back, his gaze searching mine as if he’s waiting for me to say something, to give him a sign that he didn’t just wreck everything we’ve spent years building. But I can’t think, let alone speak.
“I should… My ride’s here,” I say. “Better get in before she leaves me.”
His jaw flexes like he wants to say something, but he only nods, stepping aside so I can slide into the back seat.
As the car door closes, I catch one last glimpse of him standing on the curb, hands shoved in his pockets, watching me go.
I love Lucas. Of course I do. But it’s different from the way I loved Cole.
Loving Cole was like being in the back seat of a rental convertible coasting down the highway.
The wind whipped through my hair while he struggled to find a song on the radio that he liked enough to keep on for more than fifteen seconds.
It was exciting and aggravating all at the same time.
Loving Lucas feels like sitting in the passenger seat of the car you’ve had forever.
The one with the worn-in fabric and the broken aux cord.
The one you swore you’d never let anyone else drive—until him.
It’s comfortable, familiar, and safe in a way that makes you breathe deeper.
He’s not just along for the ride. He’s the reason you love pulling into the driveway at the end of a long day.
So then what am I doing?
Why did I get in this car and let him watch me drive away like he didn’t just kiss me like he meant it? He told me he had a crush on me. He kissed me. I kissed him back. The kiss was life-changing.
What the hell am I doing?
“Can you stop the car?” I say suddenly, leaning forward as we approach a stop sign.
The driver glances at me in the rearview. “Everything okay?”
“I—yeah. I just need to—can you pull over for a second?”
She nods and eases the car to the curb.
I’ve read this scene before. A hundred times. In books, in movies, in late-night rewatches of When Harry Met Sally and Notting Hill. The stop the car moment. The I think I’m in love with him and I have to do something about it right now moment.
I never thought it would happen to me though.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull on the handle. Lucas is already jogging toward me from the sidewalk like he knew I’d come back. Like maybe he was hoping I would.
He opens the door the rest of the way. “Hey, did you forget some—”
I look up at him. “Come with me?”
He pauses, looking at me closely. Then he gets in, shuts the door, and turns my way. “I was hoping you’d say that.”