He had. And every single time I’d spent the next ten minutes imagining him in a billowy white shirt.
I was about to respond with something snarky and not at all defensive, when another notification popped up on my screen. Not a text from Skyler, a random DM to my FotoBom account.
It wasn’t from anyone I knew, and the profile was blank. But the message was a picture of theShadow of Neverposter. Holy friggingcrap, did I have my first fan? I clicked on the picture and—
My heart clenched.
It was the poster. Opening night’s date was circled. And someone had added an L to my last name.
Flinch.
August 10th
I had thought that on our drive back from work Lucas would want to talk about his photography gig for the opening night ofThe Shadow of Never. But he and Armand had made plans to meet in person, which was definitely more important.
“But is it too soon though?” Lucas said, his grip on the steering wheel concerningly tight. “A few days ago I said I wasn’t brave enough to step out into the living room when he was already there in the house.”
He looked genuinely worried, so I carefully bit back a laugh. “Too soon? Lucas you’ve been living with him forweeks. And he’s flying home in like five days.”
Lucas tutted. “Yes, but—”
“But I think it’s really cool that you both agreed to meet.” My time being a model for Armand’s class was over, but it was hard to forget about a giant British man awkwardly pining for your oblivious friend. “I’m sure Armand is as nervous as you.”
“I guess. It’s just that I ... I don’t know, should I be this concerned about what some guy thinks about me?” Lucas rattled a shaky sigh. “Maybe Ishouldjust go travel the world and find myself or whatever.”
“Kind of thought you’d already done a bunch of traveling,” I said, able to clearly imagine Lucas gallivanting around Europe with a flowy scarf and a baguette. “Why are you even rich if you haven’t done an Eat Pray Love?”
He snorted. “That’s a fair point. I always meant to, but I’ve only been as far as Canada, which, yikes. God knows I eat, but I don’t pray, and as for love—” he gestured to the road ahead of us “—well you see what I’ve been dealing with—”
The car jolted, lurching us off-balance. I braced myself against the door, and Lucas’s arm shot across my chest.
He navigated us to the shoulder of the road before turning to me, eyes wide. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” I glanced down at Lucas’s fancy car that had betrayed us. “Is the car good?”
Lucas exhaled, finally dropping his arm. “I guess we hit a nail or something ...” He shot me an apologetic glance. “Sorry for soccer-momming you.”
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “Thanks for saving my life.”
Lucas rolled his eyes, then stepped out of the car. I followed, and—
Whatever we’d driven over, the front left tire washistory.
“I don’t suppose you have a spare?” I tentatively asked.
“I’m like eighty-nine percent sure I do, but this is one of the newer models, and it’s not in the trunk like a normal car, it’s somewhere ... maybeunderthe car?” Lucas ran both hands over his face and groaned. “I know my mom tried to teach me how to change a tire at some point, but I was thirteen, and you remember how you don’t care about anything when you’re thirteen?”
“Like it was yesterday,” I said, “or at least, barely five years ago.”
Lucas turned to me, one arm across his middle and the other crossing up over his shoulder. “And I don’t suppose you know about cars and flat tires?”
“Who, me? I’m but a wee infant baby.”
Lucas snorted sardonically. “Damn, we’re a walking stereotype. The boomers were right about us.”
Luckily he had AAA, though after calling there was nothing to do but lean against the side of the car and wait to be rescued.
“So ...” I began, watching Lucas’s leg bounce anxiously, “want to talk more about how excited you are to meet Armand?”
