Page 62 of Be Your Anything
When I saw Remmy tonight, sitting next to him in the booth at Harbor’s, I couldn’t help but wonder to myself what she could possibly have going on in Santa Barbara that would make her want an open relationship with Lucas.
If he was mine, I wouldn’t want him to go near anyone else. And she was actively making that decision, encouraging him to sleep with other people while she did the same.
It makes me wonder what the rest of their relationship is like. I mean, is it really good? So good that the sex thing doesn’t matter? Or is it really bad and this is their way to try to salvage it?
But I guess that doesn’t really matter, because being with him now is just as painful as watching him with Remmy when we were younger.
I might have his body, but she has his heart.
And that makes all the difference.
“Hey girl, just checking in,” Paige’s message says. “Tonight was sucky and I hated it, so I can’t imagine what you were feeling. If I know you, you’re drinking a full bottle of wine and will be hating life in the morning. Make sure you drink some water, too, because we have cycling tomorrow. Just because it’s a holiday doesn’t mean it’s a vacation. See you bright and early! Love you!”
I shake my head and delete the voicemail.
I ignored her call earlier, feeling too low to want to talk it out. I know I’ll feel differently tomorrow, but tonight, I want to lick my wounds in private.
A knock on the door startles me. I set down the mostly full glass and head to the entryway, peering through the peephole to get a look at my late-night visitor.
My chest constricts when I see Lucas waiting on the other side, and I take a step back, considering not opening it for a brief moment. I place both hands on the door and rest my forehead against the wood, giving myself a second to decide.
I can guess why he’s here.
There are a few potentials reasons.
Maybe he wants to apologize for the awkwardness tonight. Maybe he wants to end things with me officially. Maybe he just wants to double-check that I’m not going to talk about what’s been going on between us.
But there’s the little part of me that hopes…that wonders if maybe he’s here because things make more sense with me than with her.
I know that’s howIfeel when we’re together, like I can breathe easier, like the world is a happier place.
So I push aside my fears and give myself to the potential positives. The hope-fors. The possibilities.
And I open the door.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey.”
And then there’s silence as his eyes flit across my face for a brief moment. I wonder what he sees when he looks at me, if he can see how much I love him, if he knows I’d do anything for him.
Part of me feels like I hide it so well behind the mask I put on so carefully, the one that is supposed to protect me from letting anyone see something they shouldn’t.
Yet at the same time, I’m also sure there’s no way he can see the way I look at him and not see my every emotion and desire for him written across my face. Not recognize that I’ve loved him for so long. Not understand the depth of what I feel.
He opens his mouth, and I hold my breath, wondering what he might say, why he’s here.
“Did you call for a plumber?”
I’m so surprised by his words that my brow furrows. “Huh?”
Lucas pauses, clears his throat. “Did you…need a plumber?” he asks again.
In that moment, that split second when I realize he’s bringing up what I said earlier and he’s here for sex, I’m almost embarrassed by how I feel about it.
There’s a part of me that cracks. A piece of my soul chips away at his interest in coming here for sex with me when his girlfriend is in town, at the fact that he went to role-playing by default.
It makes me feel like a bitch. Like a whore. Like a plaything to be used whenever he wants me.
