“What way?”
He shrugs, and I internally roll my eyes, taking a step back.
Maybe I’ve read this all wrong, and I’m really just a best friend to him. Maybe he just went out of his way because I’m a girl, and he saw me as someone who couldn’t stand up for themselves.
In some ways, he does treat me like he treats all our other friends, but at the same time, he probably doesn't tell them they’re pretty. He doesn’t check on them if they haven’t talked in a day. When their childhood dog dies, he probably doesn’t sneak in through their bedroom window and spend the night sleeping on the floor next to their bed, just so they don’t have to be alone.
When he falls silent and doesn't answer my question, I take a breath, building up all the courage I could possibly muster. The adrenaline coursing through my veins is on par with the feeling I get when I'm standing behind the curtains, music humming through my veins as I await my turn on stage. “Do you like me, Lukas?”
“Of course, I like you,” he answers immediately, but before I can jump for joy, he follows it up with, “You're my best friend.”
“Is that all I am to you?” The question lingers between us, growing stale in the air before it dissipates. Lukas breaks eye contact at some point, and my nervous energy grows, pressure building up inside of me like a balloon on the verge of exploding. I twist on a heel, needing to leave the small confines of the tack room for some fresh air before I actually burst from the inside out. I'm halfway through the horse barn and about to reach for the wooden sliding door when I hear Lukas call out after me.
“No.”
No. It takes me a moment to remember what I had asked him last. When I turn, Lukas is standing at the mouth of the tack room. He takes three long strides toward me, and his handscome up. I suck in a breath when they reach my face. He palms my cheeks and his fingertips tangle through the sides of my hair.
“No, you're not just my best friend.” I can feel his hands trembling against my skin, and I reach mine up to rest on his forearms. My fingers curl around the firm muscle to steady myself.
“What do you want me to be?” I prod, unsure where this confident, bold side of me came from. But I think it's maybe something I've known for a while. There’s always been an unspoken connection between Lukas and me, one that's been there for years but morphed into something else the older we get. I think we both have known deep down that there's feelings brewing, maybe even stronger than the average “I like you” feelings. But there's a lot at stake if it didn't work out. Our friendship, for one, our group of friends that’s blended together too perfectly. Our parents have become close friends, which makes it easier for us to see each other. But I care about Lukas so much that I ache inside, and I need to know that he feels the same.
He licks his top lip, eyes focused down on me. “I want you to be more than my best friend.” I suck in a little breath of air. My heart is pounding so rapidly in my chest I wonder if he can feel it beating against his own. “I hadn't planned a big speech for this,” he says, followed by an awkward chuckle. “You're so far out of my league, Mags. I was settling for just being your best friend, your protector, your chauffeur, your freaking lab partner, anything you could possibly need. But then there are times you’re looking at me, just like you are now, and the butterflies in my stomach take flight.”
His eyes dart across my face, frantic in their exploration, but I keep mine laser focused on him. “How do I look at you?”
His throat works in a heavy swallow. “Like I’m the only thing you see. Like I’m all there is.”
“What if you are?” I whisper. I hadn’t always been able to put the feelings I have for Lukas, especially the ones in this moment, into words. I know what he means, though. There have been hundreds of times where he’ll catch me staring, or I’ll find him looking at me, and even though it’s a heated glance, neither of us turns away. My surroundings fade. The outside noise calms. He’s that breath of fresh air when I’m desperate to fill my lungs. My favorite shelter to turn to.
“Put me out of my misery here and tell me that you like me, too.”
A watery laugh leaves me, and I tug on his arms. “Of course, I like you, Lukas. It's about time you freaking noticed, too. I mean, throw a girl a bone here.” He laughs at that. His head tilts back and his Adam's apple bobs with the act.
A little of the nervous tension evaporates, but when his head tilts forward and looks down at me, there's a new seriousness to him. Not like the seriousness I saw today when he was furious with Billy, or the serious look he has on his face when I'm crying. No, one is more determined-serious. His gaze leaves my eyes and falls to my lips, and my breathing comes out choppy, wondering if Lukas Hart is about to kiss me.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and I don't think I can speak or form a rational thought, so all I do is nod—a little too excitedly, probably—but all he does is twitch his lips as if he's about to smile, and then he falls serious once again, using the grip he still has on my face to pull me toward him.
His nose grazes mine, and I tilt my face up to his. He lingers a breath away, and the anticipation is nearly killing me.
“I’m nervous,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting my lips.
“Why? It’s just me.”
He smiles softly at that. “Exactly, it’s you.”
You’re my Mags.
I rise on my toes, using my grip on his forearms to bring him closer. He leans forward, and our lips finally meet. We’re a little tense at first, a little stiff, but then I settle into the realization that Lukas is giving me my first kiss ever.
I lean into him, letting go of the grip I had on his arms to press my palms to his sides before running them up his chest. One of his broad hands leaves my jaw to curl around my shoulder, pulling me even closer to him.
I tilt my head, he adjusts his, and then we find our groove. Goosebumps break out on my skin, and my belly flips in the best way when I hear a soft little hum escape from his throat. His kisses are warm, soft, painfully tender, and it’s everything I could have imagined, yet somehow more. We make out in the barn next to the sleepy, but curious horses, and when my lips are red and his are puffy, he tosses my bike into the back of his truck to drive me home, leaving me with one more kiss right before I sneak back into my bedroom.
CHAPTER 4
Lukas
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
