Page 59 of Lucas
I smirk. “I’m sure a mind-blowing orgasm would cure that. Want me to pull over?”
Her scowl deepens. “And there it is. I knew that was coming.”
“What?”
“You, turning everything into sexual suggestions. Let me guess. In your world, orgasms solve all of life’s problems?”
“More or less.” I shrug, the movement causing my shoulder to brush hers in the close confines of the car. She stiffens and angles her body away.
“Typical.” Ava shakes her head, annoyance radiating off her in waves. “Why did I expect anything different?”
“So you’re going to ignore me the entire ride?”
“No. You owe me a truth from our game, remember?”
I press my lips together. Right. Yesterday’s explosive kiss in the gym was worth indulging her in this silly game. “Fine. Ask your question then.”
Ava studies my profile for a long moment, worrying her plump bottom lip between her teeth. The small action shoots a bolt of pure lust straight to my groin.
“What’s your deepest, darkest fear?”
“Fear?” I scoff. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Bullshit. Everyone’s afraid of something. I don’t mean superficial crap like spiders or snakes. I mean something soul-deep, something that keeps you up at night. What are you so afraid of, Lucas, that you hide behind this constant stream of bravado and sexual remarks?”
“I’m not hiding anything. I just like sex. A lot. What’s so weird about that?” I turn my head to catch her gaze, holding it for a beat before focusing back on the road.
“We’re playing truth or dare. No lying.”
“I’m not.”
Ava just shakes her head, turning to look out the window again. “I see. You demand honesty from me but refuse to return the favor. Game over, I guess.”
I blow out a hard breath, my hands clenching the steeringwheel. We’re married, and she signed a fucking ironclad NDA. I can say whatever I want.
But we’re still strangers. Perhaps that’s why I want to tell her. Because goddammit, for some inexplicable reason, I want to confide in her.
Something about the way Ava looks at me, really looks at me, with those striking green eyes framed by thick lashes. It’s like she sees past all my bullshit to the real me beneath. The broken parts I try so hard to hide.
She did it yesterday in the gym when I caught her before she fell—looked up at me with such soft, startled wonder. For a split second, I allowed myself to imagine I could be better. That she could make me want to be better, just to be worthy of her.
“I’m scared of turning into my dad,” I whisper, so low I’m not sure she hears it. But Ava whips her head around, eyes widening as she takes in my grim profile.
“My dad cheated on my mom. At least, I’m pretty damn sure he did. It torpedoed their marriage, fucked us all up.” It’s the first time I’ve given voice to that fear. To anyone.
Ava makes a small sound, resting her hand on my forearm. Her touch is fleeting, there and gone. “God, Lucas. I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault.” I shrug. “He’s the one who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Nothing was the same after that.”
“How do you know he cheated?” Her brow furrows.
“I remember how disgustingly in love they were before. Like a couple of teenagers, always laughing, always finding excuses to touch. It used to revolt me.” I grant a dry chuckle at the memory.
“Then, one day, it stopped. Like a switch got flipped andsnuffed out the light. I’d catch my mom watching him with this look, so much distrust and pain in her eyes. She couldn’t stand to let him touch her. They acted like polite strangers, barely speaking. What else could it be?”
It destroyed her. Him. Even now, the memory has the power to carve out my insides. I spent years telling myself I’d never be that guy. Never get attached. Never let a woman sink her claws in deep enough to destroy me if she left as it did to Dad. It’s why I fuck but never make love. Never spend the night. Always keep one foot out the door.
And now I’m fucking married to the enemy’s daughter. The irony.
