Page 5 of Assigned

Should make for barrels of laughs.

“We’re here.” Lucas pulls into the driveway of a two-story house.

I take a deep breath as my eyes scan the property. From the glass storm door to the colorful landscaping, it’s a far cry from the trailer park where he grew up. The house, with its beige siding and shutters on every window, is inviting. Especially with all the flowers along the front of the house—pink peonies, dahlia bulbs in various colors, and even some marigolds.

Different from my parents’ home too. Smaller. A lot smaller. I grew up on a horse ranch, with an expansive acreage and a huge, gurgling fountain near the circular driveway that led to the ornate front doors. I want none of it. I’d left all of that comfort behind for a reason. I don’t want to live in the past. I want to find joy and meaning in the present.

I glance over at Lucas. There was a time he loved me, maybe too much. And I’d loved him. Might there be a chance he’d be willing to leave the past behind? To live in the moment with me? To make this work for a while? At least, until I could take care of myself? It doesn’t have to be love. Can’t we at least be friends?

Lucas cuts the engine and turns toward me. “Let’s get some of your stuff inside before the officiant shows up.”

I nod and hop out of the car. After grabbing my purse, I head toward the tailgate of the truck and pick up a smaller box, then follow Lucas up the walkway. He balances the box he’s carrying on a knee as he unlocks the front door. I follow him in.

The house smells like being at the ocean, along with a sweet citrusy scent, as if there were a bunch of Starburst candies lying around. I take a deep breath in and some of my anxiety fades from the aroma alone.

“Like it, huh?”

I open my eyes to find Lucas smiling at me. The expression softens the harsh lines of his face, reminding me of teenage Lucas and causing my heart to skip a beat. Time has been good to him. If anything, he’s even more attractive than when we were kids. “What is it?”

“Blue Odyssey. It’s a plugin by Glade.” He turns and heads up the stairs.

Not surprised. Lucas always did enjoy the different aromas in my parents’ home. Mother was always switching things up. From fresh cut flowers to candles to pine cones and whatever else she could find. Lucas’s mom didn’t have a lot of extra cash around to spend on things that weren’t necessities.

I swallow and shake my head to chase away the thoughts, but when I gaze ahead, my eyes land on Lucas’s ass. Christ. Not where I wanted my mind to wander, but I couldn’t seem to force myself to look away either. Through his well-fitting jeans, I could tell his ass was round and firm, more muscular than when I used to slide my hand into his back pocket in between classes. My fingers twitch at the memory, a leftover reflex from when I used to reach out and squeeze it.

I dig my nails into the cardboard box instead. What the heck? Impulsive butt grabbing is a bad idea. Very, very bad. I’m in this situation because I need insurance, not to rekindle a romance with my high school flame.

By the time we reach the landing, my impulses are back under control. We stop in the small loft, and Lucas points to a door down the hall. “Bathroom’s on the left.”

“Thanks.” I nod. “Is that my room on the right?”

Lucas stills like he’s listening for something, and his jaw tenses again. When he doesn’t speak, I spin around, looking for the source of his tension. But we’re the only two in the house, so I’m not sure what just happened.

“That’s my son’s room.”

“Oh. Mason, right.” A mix of happiness and grief had washed over me when I read he had a child in the multi-page document that was sent over, just like now. The day I’d ended things with Lucas, I’d done so deliberately, because I hadn’t wanted my illness to hold him back. It hadn’t seemed right to saddle him with a chronically ill girlfriend, especially one who had no clue what her own future had in store.

That hadn’t prevented my heart from shattering into a million pieces, though.

Now, I know more about what I want…and don’t want. Children fall in the latter category. Not my own biological children, at least. I was glad for Lucas. Making sure he could have that kind of happiness was a lot of why I’d broken up with him.

I pull my shoulders back and inhale a deep breath, ready to avoid the emotions threatening to bubble up inside. “So, where am I sleeping?”

“My room.” Lucas makes his way down the hall to our right as I stand grounded in place. My pulse accelerates while my mouth goes dry. When he reaches the white door at the end, he peers back over his shoulder, a mischievous grin stretching over his face. “Kidding. This is your room.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Thank the Lord. On so many levels. This whole situation isn’t supposed to be a lifelong partnership. Sharing a bedroom would complicate matters, and my life is complicated enough already. At least he’s joking around, though. It’s better than him not speaking at all. A lot better.

I smile and head over to him, the abdominal cramps loosening their hold a little. When I walk into the spacious room I’m once again rooted to the floor in shock. The center of the room is dominated by a canopy bed draped with sheer white fabric dotted with tiny embroidered flowers. There are enough pillows on the bed to suffocate someone, all in different shades of orange: tangerine, apricot, peach. Each bedside table sports a lamp in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. A fluffy light-blue throw rug stretches across the floor. A pod chair with auburn cushions hangs in the corner. All of it is familiar. Too familiar. The furniture and décor bears a marked resemblance to my bedroom back home in Texas. There’s no way the similarities are random. None. “Holy time warp.”

Oops. That was supposed to stay in my head.

Lucas places the box down on the desk in front of two large windows, then turns and crosses his arms, his legs spread as he straightens to his full height. He lifts his chin and looks down at me. “There a problem?”

“No. It, uh, seems awful familiar, though.”

He kicks at the fluffy blue throw rug. “I was trying to make you feel at home. Never met anyone so excited to get furniture for her fifteenth birthday before.”

My parents had let me redo my bedroom that year. There’d been no budget. Everything and anything I wanted. My choice of color and paint and furniture. The room had looked like a drunk unicorn had thrown up rainbows on it. Just like this one did now. I’d outgrown it years ago.

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