I clap him on the shoulder with a focus mitt. “You’re going to run every day?”
He nods quickly.
“And twice a week you’ll do our sprinting drill?”
Another hurried nod.
“Good. You’re done for the day. Go home and rest up.”
When I turn toward Lucas, I find him looking over my shoulder, amused. I can only imagine the heap the kid just collapsed into.
“What’s up?” I ask.
He jerks his head toward the door. “Let’s go get dinner.”
Which is code for: he had a bad day dealing with rich assholes and needs to talk to someone about something that has nothing to do with his daily life.
“You good with a burger?” he asks as we step out onto the sidewalk.
“That’s fine. I can substitute the bun.”
We don’t talk during the ten-minute walk, or when we take a seat at a high top. It isn’t until Lucas orders a Citywide that I snort and ask, “Rough day?”
He blows out a heavy breath. “Roughweek.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. It’s like clockwork. He does this once every three months. Alexander and I used to try to convince him to change jobs, but to no avail. Now, we just entertain the call with alcohol and a greasy burger.
But for the first time, Lucas changes the script. Lifting his beer to his lips, he sighs. “I need a vacation.”
My eyebrows lift at that. “Yeah? When was the last time you left your laptop at home and took a real vacation?”
He blows out another breath. “I can’t even remember. Too long.”
“Where would you want to go?” I ask curiously.
“Anywhere that doesn’t have service.” He seems to snap back to reality because he shifts his focus to me. “What about that brother trip? You still in for it?”
I blink, thrown off by the topic change. I haven’t even thought about our original conversation. And I definitely haven’t thought about getting away from my day-to-day lately.
Not since I met Scarlett.
“Uhh…I don’t know.”
Lucas seems more and more into the idea as he leans forward and says excitedly, “Oh, come on, you were into the idea a fewweeks ago. We should do it! You, me, and Alexander should get away to some luxury resort in Turks and Caicos, spend a week shark diving and hiking and drinking ourselves into the sand every night. It’s perfect. Why not?”
“For one, that sounds expensive.”
He shrugs. “So? It’s not like you don’t have the money.”
Yeah, but now I have something—someone—I want to spend it on.
Lucas must read something on my face because he pauses the sip of his beer and frowns. “What? You having money problems?”
“Notproblems, exactly…”
