Page 30 of Lucy and Her Wicked Three

"So it's not just me."

"Not at all. I know he loves you. A fuck ton. He's just… a workaholic. A little neurotic. But he does love you, probably more than he loves me and Noah, considering he tried to keep you to himself," I laugh, but Lucy remains contemplative.

"In any case," I continue, "the survival of your relationship wasn't on your shoulders alone. Society says we need to beeverything to our partner, but it's kind of an impossible task. Can you be everything for Mateo?"

She thinks about it, biting her lip, before shaking her head. "I can barely be everything for myself."

"Exactly." There's a lot I want to say. I want to know if she wants to explore this with me, with us. But she's overwhelmed, which defeats the purpose of me coming over here.

"Are you okay, for real, Lucy? After last night?"

She nods slowly. "I am. I think you being here, without expectations, that helped." I let out a breath.

We talk some more. Eventually I get up and explore the apartment, and we keep talking while she follows behind, amused I've made myself at home. It's getting late. I want to stay longer. And even though she's more relaxed, I won't make the same mistake Matty did by trying to force something to work that needed time to develop.

Reluctantly, I grab my backpack and Lucy follows me to the door.

It's easy to reconcile the girl in person with the one in her videos. She has a vibrancy, charisma you can't fake. No wonder she has so many followers.

Reaching a hand out, the second hers slips into mine, I tug her close, pulling her into my arms, wrapping her up in a hug. I meant to leave it there, but Lucy surprises me when she pulls back and, after furrowing her brow, comes to a decision and presses her lips into mine.

Like last night, I'm drunk on her. She tastes so sweet, nervous but impatient. I can feel her needy whimpers on my tongue, and it takes a lot of fucking effort to pull away, knowing what she sounds like when she comes, wanting to take this so much further. We did this a little backwards, but I want to do right by Lucy. She deserves it. So do Matty and Noah.

"Can you come over tomorrow? Maybe we can cook you dinner?"

Her face lights up. "That would be amazing."

"I'll text you tonight." I lean in and kiss her cheek, wanting badly to take it ten steps further, but I pull away and grab my skateboard. "Bye Lu."

"Bye Silas," she says softly.

The door shuts with a soft click, and I stand in the hallway just thinking about how legendary we could be together.

By the time I make it downstairs and into the lobby, I'm grinning like an idiot at all her neighbors. Barely three steps out the door, still totally blissed out, I don't immediately notice the woman with a toothy smile until she's leaning into my personal space, catching me off guard.

"Oh my god! Hey!"

"Uh, hey?" I rear back.

"Don't I know you?" She tilts her head, waiting, expecting me to give her my name or some indication we know each other.

When I don't, she continues, "You're friends with Lucy, right? Sorry, I thought I saw her with you earlier. I'm a really good friend of hers."

She continues to wait for me to fill in the blanks, but I don't. "It's nice to meet you…" When she doesn't give me her name, I shrug and move around, giving her a wide berth. She may very well be a friend of Lucy's, but knowing Lu's internet famous in Port City, this woman could also be an obsessed fan.

Aside from the wild look in her eye, she looks pretty normal. Dressed like a young bohemian, with feathers in her brown hair and a fringe leather jacket, she's pretty, but pinging my unhinged radar.

I drop my skateboard and step on. Glancing back briefly, I swear she's taking my picture, but she could just be texting.

I guess that's what these social media types do. Though I've been around Lucy twice now and I haven't seen her phone even in her vicinity. I didn't think influencers who weren't completely attached to their phones existed.

It takes me half an hour to get home, and I find Noah sitting on the couch with his laptop, but he looks like he's been watching the door, waiting for me, not working like he's supposed to be.

I put my shit away, take my time getting comfortable, waiting to see how long it takes him to freak out and just ask. I set down my skateboard and backpack, head to my room to put on a pair of sweats. I grab my tablet so I can get some work done and join him on the couch, making a point to stretch out, nudging his leg with my foot.

About eight minutes is how long it takes.

"For fuck sake. Is she okay? How is she? Did you see her?"

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