Preston Brothers: Lucas Part 21

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 pa.s.s 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 s.p.a.ce 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 hoa.r.s.e, "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 s.h.i.+ft, 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 time, I force myself to stand. I don't bother putting on a t-s.h.i.+rt 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 pus.h.i.+ng 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 embarra.s.sment. "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. "G.o.d, 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 f.u.c.k, 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 relations.h.i.+p 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."