Page 99 of The Backup Plan

That’s enough to know the needle moved.

Emery

The rideshare smells like leather and the cologne of whoever sat in here before me. The city slides past the windows in streaks of light I barely register.

I’m wired.

Not drunk—just loose. Warm. Buzzing in that way that has nothing to do with champagne and everything to do with the sight of Lucas Hale in a tuxedo and the way my body ached and wanted more when his lips brushed my cheek.

I replay the night over and over.

The women flirting with him.

One of their hands on his arm.

The way he didn’t pull away—but didn’t lean in either.

The look he gave me over the rim of his glass, dark and knowing, like he was daring me to blink first.

I didn’t.

I haven’t all night.

And maybe that’s why I’m in a horrible mood and antsy as hell. A part of me wonders if he’ll go home with one of them—the women from tonight—but another part of me replays the last few weeks, considering how intentional Lucas has been in showing what he wants—me. So, why would he change his mind now?

And yet . . . I can’t stop reliving how I felt watching him tonight with other women.

By the time I reach my apartment, my pulse is jumpy and my thoughts are a mess of restraint and want . . . and a single, extremely clear truth I’ve been trying to avoid. To deny. To pretend isn’t there.

I want Lucas Hale.

The friendship is there. The respect is there. The attraction is most definitely there.

Do the risks outweigh the benefits?

I’m sick of thinking. Tired of wondering. Sick of wanting.

And I don’t want to do this halfway anymore.

I step into my apartment and within seconds of the door clicking behind me, my heels come off and my clutch lands on the counter with a thud.

I pace.

Once.

Twice.

Breathe. Sleep it off. Wake up tomorrow and the same rules will be intact and your ridiculous thoughts of breaking them will be gone.

Then I hear it.

The unmistakable sound of a door opening across the hall.

The door closing.

I freeze as my hand curls into a slow fist at my side.

This is ridiculous. Go to bed, Em.