“I don’t need an out.”
“Maybe not.” His tone softens. “But Marcus was crossinga line. You shouldn’t have to pretend to be fine just to keep your career intact.”
That lands harder than I expect.
The casino noise buzzes behind us, but I barely hear it over the blood rushing in my ears. He’s not wrong. And the fact that he noticed? That he cared enough to step in without making a scene? It messes with my balance more than Marcus ever could.
Still, I can’t give Lucas the win.
“What do you need from me?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“I need you to be my fake girlfriend for the next fifteen minutes.”
I laugh. “Absolutely not.”
“Jess—”
“Lucas—”
His eyes suddenly dart past my shoulder, and something flickers there. Panic? Anticipation?
“She’s coming this way,” he says, his voice pitched low. “I need an answer. Now.”
I arch a brow. “So, let me get this straight. You want me to break some poor woman’s heart just because you’re too much of a coward to tell her you’re not interested?”
Lucas doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink. His poker face is infuriating. But then he leans in slightly, and his gaze locks onto mine with something real behind it. Something I didn’t expect.
“Please,” he says. Just that one word. Quiet. Honest. Vulnerable.
And just like that, I’m toast.
“Fine.” I sigh dramatically, rolling my eyes for effect. “Tell me what my role is.”
His eyes reflect relief, but before I can press for details, he’s already moving.
As his hand slips behind my neck and his fingers thread through my hair in a firm but gentle grip, his other arm curls around my waist, pulling me against his solid chest, toned stomach, and broad shoulders. Every point of contact is heat, tension, and danger.
And then he kisses me.
Not a soft, chaste brush. Not a staged peck.
No, Lucas Carmichaeldevoursme.
His mouth is hot, demanding, insistent. His lips part mine like he’s been waiting to do it for years, and to my utter dismay, my body doesn’t hesitate. I kiss him back like he’s oxygen. My hands fly to his shoulders, gripping him like I might float away.
It’s not what I imagined. It’s better. More precise. More chaotic.
And for one breathless moment, I forget this is pretend. I forget about Marcus. I forget about the girl he’s trying to avoid by kissing me. I forget about the casino, the story, and the bitterness I’ve carried since that day at USC.
All I know is the press of his mouth and body, and the maddening realization that I don’t want him to stop.
four
. . .
Lucas
Her lips are so soft.I knew they would be. She tastes like champagne and toothpaste, with a hint of cherry lip balm. Her tongue finds mine like she’s actually into this, not just playing a part.
