Page 33 of Lucas

“You are incredible,” he says, planting a soft kiss on my sweaty forehead.

A lump gathers in my throat, making it impossible to speak. It really hits home that this moment may be our last like this, and I don’t know what to do about the hollowness in my chest, the dull ache that already feels like grief.

I swallow, and find my voice. “Something to remember me by, then?”

“Not likely to forget you, darlin’,’” he says, but before I can ask him what that really means, I feel his muscles relax, and I know he’s drifting off to sleep. I lift my head to find his eyes already closed, lightly fluttering as he enters dreamland.

If only I could be so lucky.

I should leave—just slip out the door while he’s sleeping, a no-fuss end to our seven-day “no strings attached” relationship. But the clock above the fireplace tells me it’s only ten. When it strikes midnight, I’ll go, sneak out like Cinderella at the ball. Until then, I’ll just keep playing make belief…

* * *

Lucas nudges my shoulder. “Darlin’, wake up.”

My eyes flutter open and then close again. Blinking, I finally open them fully. In the hazy blur of not-yet-awake, Lucas appears like an Adonis, his strong, powerful body hovering over mine. For a split second I don’t know where I am, and wonder if I’m dreaming, but everything comes rushing back to me in a flash, and I sit upright, with panic.

My arms cross over my naked chest. I look up at the clock and gasp. It’s ten minutes to midnight. I have to leave.

Lucas puts his hand on my arm. “Whoa. What’s your rush?”

My eyes flit to the time and back. A cool chill seeps into my bones and a shiver rocks through me, hard and fast.

Lucas’s face hardens. “Oh. I see.” He sits upright and runs his hand through his hair. “So, this is it then?”

I pause, waiting for him to say something, to give me a thread of hope that this isn’t over after all. That somehow we’ll figure out a way to be together, for real. Just quit playing pretend and get real. Maybe the words are stuck in his throat or something, because with every passing second, the tight knot of hope in my chest begins to unravel.

My spine stiffens.

I get up off the floor and begin gathering my clothes. I dress quickly, too nervous to look at him, even though I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move. My muscles feel weary, my emotions hanging on by a thread.

Just go, Eden.

If only it didn’t feel as though my heart was being sliced in two.

Lucas pulls on his pants and follows me to the door. I sling my purse over my shoulder and glance at the brickwork in the kitchen, remembering every meal we shared at the breakfast bar, every conversation over coffee, every scandalous thing we’ve said after too much beer.

I’ve spent almost every night for the past seven days in this apartment. It isn’t mine, logically I know that, but my chest aches as if I’m saying goodbye to home.

How utterly ridiculous.

I blink back tears and inhale deep. “So, I guess I’ll see you around?”

Lucas shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. His eyes are glassy, jaw tense. Disappointment shakes through me. Would it be too much to ask for a hug? Some kind of symbol that he’ll miss this.

Miss me.

“Eden?”

His voice freezes me in place. I hold my breath, hoping, waiting. Hanging on to one last shred of a promise. “Yeah?”

“I had a really great time this week.”

My breath comes out in a slow exhale. “Me too, Lucas.”

Me too.

Chapter 16