Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

LUKAS

T he next morning, the three of us sit around the table eating scrambled eggs and toast. I'm trying my best not to let the awkwardness override me. It's so difficult to sit within mere feet of my woman and not touch her. She's fully dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants like she wants to cover up as much of her body as possible.

"How was the fashion thing?" I ask Kayla, just to break the silence.

Kayla looks up at me sharply. Right away, I know she didn't go to a fashion show. She's never been very good at lying to me. That's the same in the opposite direction, too. At least, it was until I started hungering for her best friend.

"It was…" She puts her fork down and sighs. "Okay, let me just get this out there. Band-Aid—off. I didn't go to a fashion thing. I saw a boy."

She sighs heavily, like this has been eating her up. It's so devasting how much it troubles her to lie to me while I'm lying just by sitting here and pretending I don't, every single second, want to maul her best friend.

"That's nothing to panic about," I tell her, "as long as you are careful."

"He doesn't know where we're staying," she says, "and he… he's not some money-digger or anything like that. He's really nice. His name's Ethan. He wants to be a poet. He's so romantic." She gets a dreamy-eyed look.

"Can I meet this Ethan?" I ask.

No matter what, even if I betrayed her last night, my priority will always be to keep my child safe. Any father feels a certain degree of skepticism upon learning his daughter is dating. Mine is probably more than others since Kayla has had her heart broken a few times.

"I was going to suggest that, actually," Kayla replies. "He said he's old-fashioned and wants to meet you, but I'm trying not to rush in too fast. I've made that mistake before."

"That's very mature," I tell her.

"I can be mature," she counters. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"I lied to you."

Maci suddenly drops her fork. It clatters loudly against her plate.

Kayla quickly turns her head to her friend. There's so much concern on my daughter's face. For a few brief moments, it's like she thinks Maci will be in danger, and she's immediately, unquestionably ready to help her, whatever it is. Then, the reality of a dropped fork registers, and Kayla smiles tightly.

"Sorry, is this awkward for you?"

"No," Maci says, picking up her fork. "Sorry."

Kayla's smile turns to confusion. "You don't have to be sorry."

I know why Maci looks like she's on the verge of a breakdown. It's the word lied . Kayla is making a big deal about lying to me, which is fair enough. It's good that dishonesty makes her feel so bad, but it's also filled with so much irony that it hurts. We're lying every damn second just by sitting here and not letting Kayla know what we did last night.

"Don't worry about it," I tell Kayla. "Is that why you came out here? To see him?"

"Partly," Kayla replies. "I also wanted a break. The city can be so hectic and loud sometimes."

"Well, don't beat yourself up," I say, really meaning it, "and I'd love to meet him. Maybe you could invite him to dinner this evening?"

"How long are you staying here?" she asks.

"A couple more days," I tell her. Enough time for Sebastian to cool off so we can be around each other in person, but I'm not going to tell her that part.

Kayla nods. "Okay. Yeah. I'll invite him, but won't you need to arrange the security and stuff?"

I sigh. She's right. Disappearing out here to our hidden second home sometimes makes me forget who I am, how famous I am, and how much money I publicly have. Not having security out here, even where nobody knows me, is a risk.

"You're right," I tell her. "I'll call up the firm. Invite him for dinner tomorrow."

"He's not… uh, a bad person," Kayla mutters, "but it's better to be safe than sorry, right? That's what you always say."

"You're right," I say. "I don't want anything happening to you."

I glance at Maci, wishing I could take a moment to appreciate how the morning sunlight rests against her features, lighting her up like an angel. Her hair is tied up, showing her features, full and beautiful and mine . I bite down and look away. I don't want anything happening to either of them.

I'll always feel a protective impulse over Kayla, of course, but there's also one for her friend. I never dreamed I'd feel this way about anybody else, this bone-deep need to ensure nothing bad ever happens to her.

Maci forks scrambled eggs into her mouth, staring down at the plate.

"It'll be like a double date," Kayla says a moment later, then laughs. "Just kidding!"

Maci and I force our laughs, putting too much effort into the performance. That Kayla's making jokes about it means that the idea of it happening—that her friend and I could have something special and unique—is downright absurd to her, and it should be.