“Is the kid harassing you or—”
“Relax, Dad. I invited him.”
Both Lucas and Amiyah arch their eyebrows at my blatant lie but neither of them dares to comment on it. Instead, they lean in like they’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Right,” Dad huffs, knowing there’s no point in arguing with me. “I was just calling to see if you and Miyah wanted to grab lunch at Metric’s in about half an hour.”
“Sure, we’ll meet you there. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetpea.”
I make a show of hanging up and putting my phone back in my purse before looking at Lucas. He blinks a few times, mouth opening just to close.
The urge to reassure Lucas that my dad isn’t going to do a damn thing bubbles up and tugs at my chest. I really should tell him but where’s the fun in that?
I reach for Amiyah’s hand instead, the other clutching my shopping bags. “We done, Callahan?”
The initial shock of me almost ratting him out to my dad slowly slips off his face. He chews on his bottom lip. An attempt to keep a smile from forming.
I’m starting to believe that the act of being played turns this guy on and that’s information that is doing me no good right now.
“You’re cruel, you know that?” He makes a show of staring at my lips until his eyes meet mine, completely unashamed.
Apparently, he didn’t learn his lesson at all.
His gaze doesn’t falter and the air around us thickens.
I clear my throat. “I guess you should keep that in mind then, shouldn’t you?”
He offers me a mock salute, smug grin on his face as if my reaction just gave something away. “Yes, ma’am.”
My hand clenches around my bags, while the other squeezes Amiyah’s hand, a tightness in my stomach forming. Not wanting to dissect that right now, I give Lucas one last look—because apparently I can’t help myself—and continue walking in the direction of the exit.
Neither Amiyah nor I say anything as I drag her through the crowd and to my car. I drop her hand and throw my bags into the backseat, clothes spilling out onto the white leather. As I climb into the driver seat of my Acura, I decide that I’ll deal with the mess of clothes later.
I slam my car door a little harder than necessary, turn the car on, then crank up the air conditioning, leaning back against the leather of my seat. My skin is on fire and my breaths come outshallow. Fast. It’s only April. My clothes should not be sticking to my skin.
Lucas shouldn’t be able to invoke any emotion or reaction out of me. Maybe I need to get laid more than I thought.
I close my eyes but grow angrier when all I keep picturing is Lucas’s lips. His hands. The single ring on his index finger on said hand. The chain around his neck I so desperately want to tug on to bring him closer.
Yes, ma’am.
I wonder if those exact words would come out of his mouth if I—
“Are you still alive over there?”
I whip my head to the side, seeing Amiyah is in fact staring at me with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.
I already know that whatever theory she has cooked up of what that was back there is wrong. So wrong that if I wasn’t so fucking hot right now, I’d laugh in her face.
Needing to distract my shaky hands, I put the car into reverse and pull out of the parking lot. Or at least try to but people love to walk in front of moving cars apparently.
“What?” I finally snap.
“Oh, nothing.” She waves me off before reaching for her seatbelt, clicking it into place. “Just thinking about how cute that whole thing was back there.”
“I’m glad you find the act of stalking cute.”