Page 152 of Lucas
It’s time to find out if the profound love that first drew us together can weather the secrets and lies meant to tear us apart.
It’s time to see if we’re meant to be.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
AVA
Lucas
Dress casual.
Casual?
Lucas
Jeans and a t-shirt.
Where are we going? I thought this was a charity event. In a t-shirt and jeans?
Lucas
It’s charity, sort of. You’ll see when we get there.
I don’t like surprises. And we said thiswasn’t a date.
Lucas
Relax, Wifey, I’m not planning to murder you in a dark alley.
I send back the middle finger emoji.
I toss my phone on the bed and glance at the dress I had laid out moments ago. Well, I guess it doesn’t fit the definition of casual. Where the hell are we going in jeans and a t-shirt?
My heart pounds like crazy, and I’m sweating. At this rate, I’ll need to shower again.
Why am I so nervous? The anger and hurt that boiled inside me are a distant dream. All I remember now are the good days. The way he bantered with me, the little things he did to make me comfortable, the way he held me, his words of encouragement when teaching me to ride—that I can conquer the world. The words he’s said every day since. The way he waits outside my house for hours each morning just to wish me a good day before work.
My rage over something that happened before he even knew me seems ridiculous now. I pull out the note he wrote to me again.
The paper is worn from how many times I’ve read it, my fingers tracing the letters.
Conquer the world, and I’ll stand by your side.
I don’t think I want to conquer the world. That was never my dream. I want to conquer him, Lucas.
I want him to be mine.
I slip into tight jeans that hug my curves like a second skin and a tailored shirt with a delicate lace collar that dips just low enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage.Because, after all, this is me. You won’t catch me dead in a simple t-shirt outside the house.
I give myself a once-over in the mirror, appreciating the way the outfit stresses my assets, before heading out to wait for him.
He pulls up right on time, the sleek black car purring to a stop in my driveway.
He gets out and stalks toward me. He’s dressed all in black, the thin fabric of his designer t-shirt straining across his broad chest and muscular arms. The same arms I know can lift me, pinning me against the wall as he drives into me with deep, powerful strokes.
I lick my lips.
He stops in front of me, and the intense heat radiating off his body has me taking a step back.
