He shrugs and watches the movie while I watch him. My head can’t focus on Jason Bourne at all. I don’t even know how long we’ve been watching when he proves himself right.
“I won’t do anything to jeopardize Jake’s career,” I tell him.
“I would never ask you to.”
“I won’t choose you over him in public.”
His eyebrows thread together. “Never dreamed you would.”
“I won’t risk getting in trouble at work by not preparing you for the Show.”
“Why would I ask you to do that?”
“And I’m not going to, I don’t know, make out with you under the bleachers.”
“Making outonthe bleachers feels riskier, but okay.”
He’s nodding. I’m shaking my head.
We both look at each other. He studies me, and my heart threatens to bruise my ribs.
“Is it my turn now?” he asks.
“Um. Yes?”
“I’ve been clear about how I feel about you almost since the moment I met you?—”
“You’re a flirt,” I interrupt, although I don’t believe it. But that’s part of the Scottie Quinn experience.
“Name one woman I’ve flirted with since the first time I brought you coffee,” he challenges, holding my eye as Jason Bourne gets into a brutal car crash in the background.
“Mildred in accounting,” I say weakly. His intensity is zapping the little resistance my pride is holding onto.
He doesn’t even blink. “Do you like me, Scottie Quinn? I’m not asking you while you’re under the influence this time. Do you like me?”
“Yes.”
My voice is quiet, but the impact is earth-shattering. Lucas goes still, yet his energy shifts like he’s been holding his breath and finally got to exhale.
“Good.” He takes off his baseball cap, puts it on the side table, settles deeper into the couch.
“Is that it?” I ask.
“Yup.”
“What? But … what do we do now?”
“I’mnot doing anything. You’re steering this ship, and I’ll go wherever you take me.”
“That’s a lot of pressure, Lukie,” I say.
“Oh, I know,” he says. “And I plan to be irresistible.”
I swallow.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
