Lucas - A Preston Brothers Novel (Book 1) Page 15

  He orders the lobster.

  We talk about my new car, about Coop at UNC, about the track team.

  “What about you, Lane?” Misty asks.

  “Me?” I ask, a mouthful of steak.

  “Are you planning on going to college?”

  I glance at Dad, realizing he hasn’t told her.

  “We had a little hiccup,” Dad says, his gaze lowered in shame. But he’s not the one who should be ashamed, and I hate that he feels that way.

  So I clear my throat, stab at my steak as if it were my mother. “I wanted to go to UNC, too, but my mom stole my college fund.”

  Misty chokes halfway through sipping her wine while Cooper’s eyes snap to me. I’m still stabbing away, pissed that my mom still has the power to make my dad feel like shit. “She just stole it?” Coop asks.

  “It’s fine,” Dad says.

  “No, it’s not,” I hiss.

  “Not here, Lo.”

  Awkward silence passes while I try to regroup.

  “You know,” Cooper says, “both my parents are UNC alumni.”

  If he offers to pay for college—

  He adds, “My mom’s good friends with the dean of admission there, and I’m sure she’d be happy to meet you, direct you toward some scholarships.”

  I say, “I don’t have the grades for a scholarship.”

  “Maybe not, but there are a ton of them out there and not all of them are academic based. There are some for single-income families,” Coop says, pointing to my dad. “There are some ridiculous ones, too, like if your birthday falls on a certain date. They’re not much. I mean, a single scholarship won’t get you all the way through four years, but if you get enough of the smaller ones, it might help.”

  “Lo’s a senior and it’s halfway through the first semester now,” Dad tells him, “Isn’t it too late?”

  Cooper shrugs. “It can’t hurt to ask, right?”

  I skip dessert, a surprise to everyone at the table. But seriously, those four brownies are still playing havoc on my stomach.

  “I have one more gift,” Dad says, reaching into his breast pocket. He pulls out a square velvet box and I gasp, cover my mouth.

  “Dad, you’ve already given me so much. I can’t take that.”

  “It’s not from me,” he says, sliding it across the table. He reaches into another pocket, reveals an envelope. “Tom wanted me to give it to you.”

  Cooper goes rigid beside me. “Tom Preston?”

  Dad nods at him, looks at me. “Lois?” he says, and I tear me gaze away from the box and up at him. “It’s from Kathy, sweetheart. She left it in her will for when you turned eighteen.”

  My hands shake as I pick up the box, lift the lid. It’s a gold necklace, a simple key charm attached to it. On the inside of the lid, there’s a note in Kathy’s handwriting:

  Lois Lane,

  It will make more sense when you read my letter.

  I choke on a sob, pick up the envelope. “Excuse me,” I whisper, standing up and taking the box and the letter with me. “I need to uh—”

  “It’s okay,” Dad cuts in. “Go.”

  I run to the bathroom, close the lid on a toilet seat, and sit, my knees bouncing, my hands shaking. I try to contain my sobs, but it’s hard. So hard.

  When I finally work up the courage, I tear open the envelope, pull out the letter.

  Dear Lois Lane,

  Happy birthday, sweetheart. It saddens me that I won’t be there to see you grow up, to see the kind of woman you’ve turned into. As silly as it sounds, I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I hope that deep down, I’m still in your heart because you’ll always be in mine. I didn’t know you very long, but I feel like I knew you well. You brought so much laughter and joy to my family, and I’m forever grateful for that summer you spent with us.

  I wanted to give you something that my mother gave to me when I turned eighteen. Don’t worry, Lucy gets my engagement ring and everything else.

  It’s a key to your world, Laney, and I want to tell you the same things my mother told me when I was your age, just in case yours isn’t around to pass on a similar message.

  Love hard, love fierce, but love right.

  Be careful with your heart, guard it, and if you feel the need to be reckless, make sure you are the one making that choice.

  See the world, the good, the bad, the ugly.

  Learn. Never stop learning, Laney.

  And lastly, take your time, but don’t waste it. Trust me on that one.

  You now hold the key to your world. You choose which doors to lock, which to open. You choose who to let in and who to keep out. But do me a favor? Don’t shut out too many people. You’re too good, too precious to be kept hidden.

  In case I don’t get a chance to tell you before I pass away, I want you to know now that I love you, sweet girl. And I hope that you and Lucas are still in touch, still friends—maybe more?

  If not, I hope one day you find it in your heart to forgive him his mistakes. He’s learning, Laney. Always learning.

  - Kathy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  LUCAS

  As soon as my phone rings, I know it’s Laney. And for the first time in a long time, I don’t know how to feel about it.

  “I don’t really know why I called,” Laney says, her voice weak.

  I frown, looking down at the bottle of beer in my hand. “Where are you right now?”

  The silence stretches the space between us. She sniffs, exhales. “Remember that restaurant you took me to for my sixteenth birthday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m in the bathroom, sitting on a closed toilet seat, crying.”

  Leaning forward, I place the beer on the coffee table. Then I move back on the couch, tilt my head up and stare up at the ceiling. And even though I know the answer, still, I ask, “Why are you crying?”

  “Did you know?” she whispers.

  I close my eyes, let the effects of the alcohol kick in. “Dad told me a few days ago.” I hear her breaths through the phone, short and sharp, piercing my chest with each intake. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s so beautiful, Lucas,” she whispers.

  I swallow, thick, my own emotions threatening to escape. We’ve never spent a birthday apart. Until now. Maybe that’s why I’m sitting in my dark apartment, drinking alone. “Then it’s fitting you have it.”

  “There was a letter, too.”

  “I know.”

  “Did you read it?”

  The sadness in her voice turns my insides to dust. “No. I didn’t read it.”

  She sniffs again, and I imagine her in a beautiful dress, sitting in the bathroom, her hair braided to the side, her eyes filled with tears—tears she doesn’t want to release, so she looks up at the ceiling, just like I am, in the hopes that gravity’s on her side. She says, her voice hoarse, “Sometimes I imagine hearing the knock on my bedroom door late at night as if you’re on the other side waiting for me to answer. And I know it’s not real and that you’re not there, but I’d gotten so used to it and…” Her breaths are shaky, her voice even shakier. “What happened to us, Lucas? You were my best friend.”

  I sit up. “I still want to be that, Lane.”

  “You don’t act like it.”

  “Losing you…” I can’t even begin to describe what I feel. I tug at my hair, hoping the physical pain will outweigh the emotional one. “I’d give anything to be that again.”

  I hear her shift, hear her breaths even. “I have to go. Cooper’s waiting.” Then she hangs up, and I look over at the empty beers scattered on my coffee table. I don’t count the bottles, the calories, the number of miles it’ll take to burn off. Because numbers stop having meaning when there’s no end in sight.

  I don’t know how long I sit on the couch, the sole invitee to my own pity party. Someone knocks on my door and I try to make out the time on the microwave, but it’s too far away and I took out my contacts a while ago. The knock sounds again, and this t
ime, I force myself to stand. I don’t bother putting on a t-shirt as I shuffle my feet to the door.

  Seeing Laney on the other side has me instantly tensing. I stopped drinking after she hung up—when I realized that alcohol didn’t help take away the pain and frustration of not being the one to celebrate with her. “Hey,” I say, standing straighter.

  She’s exactly how I pictured her to be: a simple black dress that hugs every inch, every curve, her hair in a side braid, loose strands falling around her beautiful face. She watches me from the corner of her eye before pushing on the door wider and searching my apartment. “You’ve been drinking?” she asks.

  “A little. I’m not drunk, though.”

  “Oh.”

  “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at a fancy dinner with your fancy boyfriend and your fancy new car?” If she can hear the pain in my words, she doesn’t show it.

  With a shrug, she says, “We’ve spent every birthday together since we were eleven and…” She reaches into her pocket, pulls out the velvet box Dad had offered to show me. I declined. I didn’t want to know.

  “Do you think you could…” She holds the box closer to me and blinks, her huge brown eyes right on mine. “It just… it would feel wrong if anyone else did it.”

  I want to say no, tell her that she shouldn’t be here and close the door on her and somehow try to forget everything we were. But instead, I open the door wider so she can step inside, and switch on the light so I can see what I’m doing. She turns, faces the now-closed door. I stand only inches behind her while she collects her hair, lifts it so I have access to her neck and I stop breathing, memories of her skin on my lips flooding me.

  What are you doing here, Laney?

  I try to hide the shakiness of my fingers when I clasp the gold chain around her neck. “All done,” I say, but it’s barely audible, and so I clear my throat. Repeat the words. She releases her hair but doesn’t turn to me. Instead, she looks down at the necklace, the charm now clasped in her hand.

  I count.

  Five seconds.

  Six heartbeats.

  When is it going to end, Laney?

  “Do you remember the day before we started high school?” she asks, her voice as weak as it was on the phone.

  It’s a random question, but I run with it, pretend like her being here isn’t destroying me. “You mean that time I practically begged Cameron to take us to the movies?”

  She turns slowly, looks up at me, her eyebrows drawn.

  I force a smile, go back to the day I’d spent many years trying to forget. “I got changed four times before we left to pick you up.”

  She looks so confused. So sweet. So Laney. “But you said it wasn’t a date…”

  “Well yeah…” I rub the back of my neck, look away to hide my embarrassment. “I didn’t want our first date to be with my sister and her boyfriend, so I asked him to take us so I could see him in action.” I shake my head, chuckle under my breath. “I was so dumb. I kept telling you it wasn’t a date until you understood, and when we picked you up…” I push back the pain of that day and force myself to continue. “You had on a purple dress and boots, and you wore your hair as it is now.” I step closer, reach up and tug on her braid. “God, Laney, you looked so beautiful. You literally stole my breath. But I knew it wasn’t for me because you knew it wasn’t a date, so I figured you were into Cameron and trying to impress him.”

  Her hands meet my bare chest, and I look up at her, startled. “Luke…”

  “What?”

  She shakes her head, her eyes wild. “That wasn’t for Cameron!” she whisper-yells.

  “But you knew it wasn’t date!” I whisper back, just as confused as she is. “Right?”

  “Says the guy who changed outfits four times!”

  I shrug, unable to hold back my smile. It’s like having Old Laney back. I like Old Laney. “It’s not like it matters,” I say, one hand on the door behind her, the other grasping her wrist. Her hands are still on my bare chest, warm and soothing. “You ignored me the entire time.”

  “I did not!” she says, her nose in the air.

  “You totally did!” Somehow, I manage to laugh. “You didn’t even sit next to me in the car and you wouldn’t let me buy your ticket or your food, and then you disappeared for what felt like forever before the movie even started.”

  “I was upset,” she whispers, her gaze lowered. She tries to remove her hands, but I keep one there, wanting her to touch me, to tease me, even if she has no idea she’s doing it.

  I wonder if she can feel my heart beating wildly beneath her fingers. “Why were you upset?”

  “Because… because…” she stammers.

  I take a risk, move closer until the heat of her body radiates against mine. “Because why?”

  She shakes her head again, working through her confusion. “But you got that girl’s number…”

  “Laney.” I press into her now, trapping her between me and the door. In the back of my mind, I know it’s wrong. I can’t have her; she doesn’t belong to me. But fuck, I want her. I wait for her to look at me before saying, “I asked you. I looked you right in the eyes and asked if you’d mind and I wanted so badly for you to say yes. For you to tell me that you didn’t want me with another girl because you wanted me for yourself.” I look down at our bodies pressed together, and my voice drops to a whisper, “Do you know how disappointed I was when you told me you didn’t care?”

  Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “But…”

  I lean in, my mouth an inch from her shoulder. “But what?”

  “You said you’d call her.”

  I release her wrist and as soon as she drops her hand, I link my fingers with hers, wanting to touch her, to hold her hand, to make her see things from my perspective. “I never called her.” I pull back, watch her eyes—see the confusion turn to clarity.

  “I remember that day so differently,” she mumbles.

  I take a chance I should’ve taken back then, wet my lips, kiss her neck. “I meant what I said, Laney. I’ve loved you forever.”

  “Don’t do that,” she whispers. “We can’t make the same mistakes again.” Then she pushes me away. “I have to go. Cooper’s waiting.”

  I bite back my disappointment, my frustration, my anger. “Then why are you here, Lane?”

  She doesn’t respond, she simply turns and walks out my door.

  Why were you here, Lane?

  I find myself smiling.

  Because she’s loved you forever, too, idiot.

  The next day, I wait for her in the parking lot with a Snickers bar. “Friends,” I say.

  “Friends?” she asks.

  I shrug. “For now.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  LUCAS

  Loving Laney from a distance is hard, but not as hard as hoping to one day loathe her. That’s impossible.

  Between Tuesday to Thursday, I treat her as mine. It’s as destructive as it is healing, but I don’t know any other way to deal with the feelings I have for her.

  I wait for her in the parking lot in the mornings, walk her from her locker to her car in the afternoons. I eat lunch with her, show up late to her work when no one is around just to get that extra time in. We don’t discuss what happened with us. We definitely don’t discuss Cooper. We dance around in circles, over and over, around and around. She plays the game as well as I do. When Cooper is around, I smile, nod, do everything he says, and I pretend like I’m not in love with his girlfriend. She waits by the tunnel for him after practice, every practice, and I smile and nod at her, too. But that’s all I do because upsetting her relationship with Cooper means upsetting her, and that’s the last thing I want. And so I creepily lurk in the shadows of her life (not literally) and wait for my turn. She doesn’t realize any of this, of course, because she’s so naive, so innocent, so Laney.

  Cooper heads for the locker room a minute before I do. “Hey, Luke!” Lane
smiles brightly at me from her usual spot.

  “Hey.” I glance toward the locker room, let her know I’m aware of her situation. Sly. Then I lower my voice, keep our secrets hidden. “You’re still coming to Luce’s wedding tomorrow, right?” Okay, I don’t know if her possibly spending the day with me is a secret, but I pretend like it is. It’s more fun that way.

  She nods. Her volume matching mine when she says, “I can’t believe they’re getting married so soon.”

  “It’s Cam and Luce. There’s no point waiting with them.”

  But I’ll wait, Laney. I’ll wait forever for you.

  We’ve had a lot of functions on our property before. Birthday parties, company picnics, but never a wedding. When Luce would talk my ears off about it after I talked her ears off about everything going on with Lane, I couldn’t really picture what she had in mind. The moment I got Lachlan dressed and stepped out of the house, I knew her vision had become a reality. A section of our land is scattered in white… white chairs, white tents, white fairy lights. It’s as beautiful as she was in our mom’s wedding dress, walking down the aisle toward her forever. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house when they said their vows. Romance and love and promises of eternity can do that to people. Even Dad.

  Laney wiped at her tears the entire time, and I expected nothing less. She’d been around, watched from a distance as Cam and Lucy made love look easy. It wasn’t as easy as she thinks, but I let her believe in the fantasy.

  At the reception, she sits with her dad and Misty. Cooper wasn’t invited. It was at my request, but Cam and Luce had no problem fulfilling it. They didn’t like Cooper either, and considering they went through their entire school lives with him, there was probably a good reason for it.

  I tap Lane’s shoulder. “Come on. Lachy’s about to break out his dance moves. Trust me, you don’t want to miss it.”