Team Lucas (The Saints Team #1) (17 page)

I heard his phone vibrating too and he chose to answer this call. I listened in.

“Jase,” he answered it. “Yeah, it’s all good and hey thanks for your help on Friday... I’m at her place now... yeah fuck Chloe, the big mouth, some of those chicks will do anything for a chance to get publicity. Yeah, I’ve said sorry... I did, I said it, ask her yourself. Yeah, okay, night. Hey, thank Sarah for me.”

Why couldn’t he talk to me like he talked to Jase? Like a friend. Things were great right now but they’ll change soon. He’d leave and then he’d be narky again next time he saw me and he’d push me away.

I guess the reality was, that if I wanted to be in Lucas’s orbit, that would be the crap I would have to endure. As much as I was relieved to see him and have the pain of the weekend lifted a bit, I wasn’t sure I could do it all the time; that I could pull off being indifferent. I wanted the whole package: friendship, respect, love, loyalty, commitment. I knew it existed, as I’d seen it. I knew it was not a fairytale.

I saw my oversized college navy blue sweatshirt with the school letters prominently displayed along the front and figured that would be the only thing that would fit him. I grabbed it and returned to the living area.

“This is good, thanks,” he said, sounding surprised again, despite my lemon meringue pie, that I could cook to survive.

“Pleasure. This should fit,” I said, and handed him the sweatshirt. What a shame. He slipped it on and the length was okay. The sleeves finished short but it did the trick.

“You know if I get snapped wearing this with their logo on the front, I’m going to have to invoice them a couple of hundred grand for product endorsement.” He swirled pasta on his fork and attacked it.

“Bighead,” I said.

Lucas grinned and finished chewing. He ate in silence as I sat comfortably beside him.

“I can sneak you out the back. Where’s your car?” I asked.

He looked surprised. “I didn’t drive here. That would have been insane with the media circus already stirred up.”

“How did you get here?” I asked.

“The doc dropped me.”

“He went thirty minutes out of his way to drop you here?” I said. “Is everyone at your beck and call?”

“Apparently not.” He looked at me and I smiled and looked away.

“We can go back to my place together,” he said, as though he was stating the obvious. He finished the pasta, muttered that it was good and thanks—must have been killing him to say sorry and thanks twice to me in one night—and he took his bowl to the sink. He ran some soapy water and began to wash it. I grabbed my phone, put the camera on and filmed it. I called his name and he turned around, saw me and rolled his eyes. I laughed.

“It’s ammunition for next time you give me a hard time. I’ll tell everyone I domesticated you,” I warned. I turned it off and put my phone down. At least I had footage of Lucas Ainswright in my kitchen that I could show my kids one day. My kids to someone else.

“The media don’t want pussy stories like that,” he said flicking his hands free of water and suds before reaching for a towel. “They want stories about pussy.”

I grimaced; Lucas was always trying for a reaction.

“Want me to call you a cab and sneak you out the back?” I asked again as I played with my empty tea cup at the table. I wanted to know where I stood and he’d showered and been fed... there wasn’t much left to do...

He whirled around and looked at me. “Where’s your car?”

“Here, downstairs.”

He put the towel down and strode towards me. My heart stopped. He pulled out the kitchen chair opposite me and dropped into it. He leaned towards me.

“What now? Why aren’t you coming back with me?” He exhaled, frustration written all over his face.

I wasn’t going to go marching straight back to our former arrangement just because he rocked up and said sorry under pressure.

“Lucas, if I go back with you now, what changes? You’ll wake up and be shitty with me again tomorrow and treat me like crap.”

He swallowed, leaned back and looked away. I kept going.

“Then you’ll be nice to me for a small window of time, lull me into a fall sense of security and I’ll like you for a minute. But wait, there’s more; you’ll push me away and be horrible all over again. This is what happens every day in some form.”

He frowned, listening to me, as if the concept was so totally foreign to him. Lucas dropped his hands in his lap.

“Right then,” he said, still frowning. “So in order for us to go home, what do you want me to do?”

I had thought a lot about this, all weekend actually.

I looked directly into his light blue eyes. “I want you to trust me.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. He made a scoffing sound that seemed to stick in his throat and wary eyes studied me. He dropped his gaze.

“Lucas,” I said again, demanding that he looked at me and when he did, I said it again, “you can trust me.”

Chapter 26

I lay on my double bed in my small room. I didn’t have much stuff and what I had was neatly placed somewhere: textbooks on a shelf, running gear on the floor in the wardrobe and clothes folded on all available shelves.

Also lying on my double bed was the hottest man I’ve ever seen—Lucas’s feet hung over the edge of the mattress and every now and then he groaned or twitched. I studied his face. He agreed to try and trust me although I suspected Lucas Ainswright was the master of saying whatever is required to get his way. He didn’t even ask for my definition of trust, he just nodded his agreement. I figured that was a big step in itself and cut him a break. Besides, he was here, he came to find me. He came to me.

After dinner, Lucas had glanced outside my window and we’d seen a volley of flashes.

“They’re still there and probably will be for a while,” he said. “Why don’t we chill for another thirty minutes or so, and turn off the lights, then they’ll go. They are not going to camp there all night once we turn in. Then, we’ll head down to your car and get out of here.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “Why don’t you watch some television or something while I take a shower.” I headed to the bathroom. I eyed off my bathroom to see how many embarrassing items were on display when Lucas was in here. It wasn’t too bad. I showered and brushed my teeth, then changed into some loose cotton pants and a long sleeved cotton top. I came back out and Lucas had given up on TV and abandoned the living area. He was lying asleep on top of my bed.

I didn’t want to wake him, so I turned off the lights as he’d suggested, leaving just the smallest lamp on in my room; a lamp that couldn’t be seen from the front windows. I had nowhere to go but next to him so I lowered myself on one half of the bed, fully dressed. I propped my head up slightly with a pillow leaning on the backboard and watched him.

He was so much nicer when he was asleep; he had a vulnerability about him that made you want to protect him. When he was awake he was all edges.

He groaned again and said a name that I couldn’t make out. His shirt, or rather my shirt on him, had ridden up and I could see part of his toned torso. He flung an arm over and hit me in the chest. His eyes shot open.

“It’s just me,” I said.

“Jesus.” He exhaled and closed his eyes again. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I was just planning on lying here while you showered. Just five minutes, but I must have...”

“It’s okay,” I said softly. I lowered myself down flat beside him on the bed and turned out the light. Lucas wasn’t moving anytime soon. As if reading my mind he muttered, “We can go soon.”

“Uh huh,” I agreed.

Then I did something. I couldn’t resist it. I softly brushed his long hair off his face, gently trailing my hands through it. He flinched at first, but he didn’t stop me. So I continued, just stroking his hair. I wonder if his mother or a lover had ever done that for him. It’s so relaxing and so comforting going to sleep knowing someone is watching over you. I thought of all those loveless years he spent at school, never going back to what remained of his family. His face began to relax and within ten minutes his breathing was steady. Lucas Ainswright was asleep on my bed.

*****

I woke with a start; the red digits on my alarm clock told me it 06:45. I didn’t move. I knew that when I turned over, Lucas would be gone. He’d be gone out of the bedroom, out of the bathroom, out of the unit. He’d text me during the day to tell me he’d see me tonight at his place and then next time he saw me he would be as cold as ice.

I sighed and rolled over and he was there, beside me. I think I gasped.

“Morning,” he muttered.

“Morning,” I said with way too much excitement in my voice—way uncool, Mia, way uncool. Do people still say cool?

“Cup of tea?” I offered. OMG, I’m offering to bring a man a cup of tea in bed. I should offer to shine his shoes too.

“Yes please. I can’t get up,” he said.

I turned completely to lie on my side and study Lucas as he lay on his back staring at the ceiling. Even first thing in the morning he was the sexiest man alive.

“What’s wrong? Did the bed do your back in?” I frowned.

“No.” He shuffled slightly and turned his head to look at me. “Morning wood... so heavy it’s pinning me down.”

“Eww, you’re revolting.” I jumped off the bed and hit him with my pillow.

Lucas laughed out loud but he was right, he had a huge bulge in the front of his pants and given he was going commando in there, it was unrestricted. How I’d love to assist with that.

“You don’t want to deal with it? It’s not in your contract?” he asked.

I turned to glare at him. I knew he’d be an asshole as soon as he could muster it, but he gave me a wink.

I tried to hide my smile, shook my head and walked from the room to make us both tea. I heard him laughing to himself. You’ll keep, Lucas. I caught a glimpse of him as he rose to go to the bathroom to take matters into his own hands. If the time came where I’d be helping Lucas Ainswright with his erection, he’d know about it!

*****

He insisted on driving my VW Golf and put the seat right back to fit his long legs in. We had sneaked out of the building but still got caught by one or two amateur photographers keen to sell their pics. I could see the headlines now:
Lucas has sleepover
or
Physio working overtime
or
Student gets lessons from Lucas
or heaven forbid,
Ménage à trios
with a photo of the poor unsuspecting Adrian photoshopped in.

“It’s not a bad little car,” Lucas said turning my VW out into the traffic and home to his place.

“It’s a great car,” I told him. “Might not have cost half a million but it moves.”

“Visibility is good,” he added, looking through the rear view mirror to the back window.

It sure is, I thought, looking at him.

He squirmed in the seat, repositioning himself. “I’ve got blue balls,” he said.

“Shut up!” I put my hands up to my ears and he tossed his head back and laughed. I looked sidelong at him, not removing my hands. “You can’t have blue...” I didn’t want to say the word, “... you only get that if you have a build-up and who are you kidding? You get serviced regularly.”

“Serviced?” He smiled.

I hid a smile and took my hands off my ears. “Yes, serviced.”

“But you’ve given me several hard-ons now, Mia,” he said, in an accusatory voice. “Once when you were in my mouth...”

“I wasn’t in your mouth,” I corrected him. “I was swabbing you for drugs. Big difference. Big.” I gave him a ‘don’t push it’ look.

“So when do you put out?” he asked.

“That’s none of your business and nothing you’ll ever have to worry about,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Not the first date clearly,” he continued trying to calculate when my dates would score. “The second? No that would be too soon as well... I bet you’re one of those girls who doesn’t put out until the guy has said, ‘I love you, Mia’.”

He wasn’t far wrong.

“Or,” he continued, “maybe the third or fourth date... once you think you know them enough to reward them with your pussy.”

“You’re seriously off sometimes, Lucas,” I said, grimacing. I held my chin up and looked over at him. “I put out when I trust someone.”

“Ah, the old ‘T’ word again, huh?” He shook his head. “Very over-rated let me tell you. Whereas sex is rarely over-rated. So what’s your favorite position? Missionary? Doggie? Butterfly?”

“What’s got into you this morning?”

“I’m unserviced,” he said.

“You’re just saying this stuff to get a reaction.” I refused to look at him.

“You’re right and because you’re so prudish.”

“I am not! I’m so not prudish.” I turned and hit his arm. “I bet I’ve done things you wouldn’t dream of doing,”

“Like what?” He indicated and turned off the main road down to the beach road. I got my first glimpse of the ocean and felt the rush of relief and excitement that came with it. Lucas prodded me again. “What have you done?”

“I’m not telling you. I don’t kiss and tell.”

He laughed again. He just loved it when he could make me squirm and have one up on me. He drove in through the gated entrance at the start of the community and waved to Ed on security who let us in. We continued to drive down the street to his home.

“Anyway, it doesn’t sound really tough when you’ve got that British accent thing going,” I told him and pretended to imitate him: “I say, would you like to suck my morning wood, old girl?”

Lucas roared with laughter. When he stopped he glanced over at me and started up again. I sat there smirking with my arms folded. Guess that backfired. The laugh was on me again, somehow.

He indicated and we turned into the beach street where my beach pad waited. I wonder if it missed me as much as I missed it.

As we drove down his street I saw a little red sports car in his driveway.

Lucas groaned. “I don’t feel like drop-ins.”

I recognized the gorgeous goddess I had seen leaving in the driveway on my first morning at Lucas’s place. She was leaning against her car. She didn’t realize it was Lucas in the VW until he came up closer and then she gave a wave and smile that would have melted any red blooded guy.