Chapter 5 #2
"I should probably fold these blankets," I say suddenly. Jumping up and grabbing the throw he'd arranged so carefully earlier. "And maybe organize your books. Do you organize them alphabetically or by genre? Because I have very strong opinions about book organization, and—"
"Maya." Lucas reaches out and gently takes the blanket from my hands. "Stop."
I freeze. Looking down at him. There's something in his expression—not pity, exactly, but understanding. Like he sees right through my nervous chatter to the scared woman underneath.
"I'm fine," I say weakly. "Just processing. I'm a processor. I process things by talking and organizing and generally being useful."
"You don't have to be useful right now."
The words hit me harder than they should. When's the last time someone told me I didn't have to be useful? That I could just exist? Be scared and messy and human without having to earn my place?
"I don't know how to not be useful," I admit quietly. "It's kind of my default setting."
"I see that." He sets the blanket aside and looks up at me. "But maybe, just for tonight, you can try just being Maya instead."
Before I can overthink that loaded statement, he moves toward the kitchen. "I'm making more tea. The kind that actually helps you sleep, assuming we ever get to that point."
I watch him move around his kitchen. Something about the normalcy of it, the simple methodical act of making tea, makes my breathing slow down.
"Lucas?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For not making this weird. For just letting me have my mini breakdown without trying to fix it."
He glances over his shoulder. A hint of surprise in his expression. "Is that what your ex used to do? Try to fix it?"
"Derek had a very low tolerance for what he called 'emotional chaos.'" I settle back onto the couch. Finally able to sit still. "He preferred solutions to feelings."
"Sounds like a real catch."
The dry comment makes me laugh. "Oh, he was a prize. Really knew how to make a girl feel cherished."
"Well," Lucas says, bringing me a steaming mug, "I'm not Derek."
No. No, he definitely isn't.
***
The first thing I notice when I wake up is that the storm has finally stopped. Pale morning light filters through the windows. The world outside looks washed clean. Like someone took a pressure hose to all of Willowbridge.
The second thing I notice is that I'm alone on the couch. Wrapped in cozy blankets. There's a pillow under my head that definitely wasn't there when I fell asleep sitting up.
He must have tucked me in at some point during the night.
The thought sends an unexpected flutter through my chest. Immediately followed by the mortifying realization that I probably drooled on his throw pillow.
"Morning, sunshine." Lucas's voice comes from the kitchen. Rough with sleep and tinged with amusement. "Sleep well?"
I struggle to sit up. Fighting my way out of the blanket cocoon. "Did I fall asleep talking? Please tell me I didn't fall asleep mid-sentence like some kind of narcoleptic weirdo."
"You made it through a very detailed analysis of why pineapple belongs on pizza before you started snoring."
"I do not snore." I finger-comb my hair, which feels like it's sticking up in at least twelve different directions. "I make delicate breathing sounds."
"If you say so." He comes through holding two mugs of coffee. The sight of him stops me cold. His hair is mussed from sleep. He's wearing a different t-shirt, this one dark green and fitted enough to remind me exactly why I made those embarrassing comments about his shoulders last night.
God, did I really tell him he filled out t-shirts well? Out loud? With words?
"Coffee," I say quickly. Reaching for the mug like it's a lifeline. "You are a saint and a scholar."
"Just caffeinated." He settles into the chair across from me. Carefully maintaining distance, I notice. "Harper and June are supposed to stop by this morning. Figured you might want to see some friendly faces."
My stomach does a little flip at the mention of my friends. "You called them?"
"Texted Harper around six. Told her you were here and safe." He takes a sip of his coffee. Studying my face over the rim. "Hope that's okay. Thought you might want backup."
Backup. The word implies that I need protecting. It should probably annoy me. Instead, it makes something warm unfurl within me. When's the last time someone anticipated what I might need before I even knew I needed it?
"Yeah," I say quietly. "That's really thoughtful. Thank you."
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment. Sip coffee and pretend we're not both thinking about last night. About how close we came to kissing. About the threatening text that shattered the moment.
About how different everything feels in the morning light.
"So," I say finally. The silence starting to feel heavy. "On a scale of one to ten, how awkward is this going to be when they get here?"
Lucas's mouth quirks up at the corner. "Depends. How good are you at pretending nothing happened?"
"Terrible. I have the worst poker face in the history of poker faces."
"Then I'd say we're looking at about an eight."
"Fantastic." I take another gulp of coffee. Trying not to think about how his eyes crinkle when he almost-smiles. "I can't wait."
I'm in the middle of trying to tame my hair into something resembling human when I hear voices on the stairs outside. Familiar voices. Voices that belong to people who know me well enough to read my entire life story in the way I'm standing.
Oh God.
"Maya?" Harper's voice carries through the door. Followed by what sounds like June's trademark cheerful knock—the kind that somehow manages to sound like sunshine.
"They're here," I hiss at Lucas, who's suddenly appeared in the kitchen doorway. Shirtless. Because of course he is.
"Yeah, I can hear them." He seems completely unbothered by his state of undress. Very unhelpful for my current mental state. "You want me to put on a shirt?"
"That would be great, yes, unless you want them to immediately assume we—" I gesture frantically between us. "You know."
"Maya? We brought bagels!" June's voice is getting closer. They're definitely coming up.
Lucas disappears back into his bedroom. I have approximately thirty seconds to make myself look like someone who definitely did not spend the night on her former crush's couch having inappropriate thoughts.
I'm smoothing down my hair for the third time when there's a knock on the door. Harper and June tumble in, armed with coffee cups and a bag that smells like heaven.
They stop. Both of them. Just stop and stare.
At me, standing in Lucas's living room in his oversized clothes. My hair looking like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket. At the couch that's clearly been slept on. Blankets and pillows scattered everywhere. At the candles from last night, now cold and waxy in the morning light.
The silence stretches for exactly three seconds too long.
June's grin starts slowly. Spreading across her face. Harper's eyebrow climbs toward her hairline in a way that suggests she's cataloging every detail for future interrogation.
And then Lucas emerges from his bedroom. Dark green t-shirt returned.
Harper's gaze moves from me to Lucas to the couch and back to me again. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.
"Well," she says slowly. Setting down the coffee carrier with deliberate precision. "This is interesting."