Chapter 12

We must look like a couple. Two young, attractive people doing something together in public. That's pretty coupley, I think. Granted, Lucy is always several paces ahead of me, but still. We are a couple of people doing things that people typically do in a romantic context. That would make us a couple.

I feel oddly proud. With every stranger we pass who gives us even the laziest of glances, I just want to scream that I am with Lucy Marino. Especially the tall, blond guy who was staring at Lucy for entirely too long, going so far as to fully turn around as he walked to stare at her ass. I really wanted to yell at him.

She's mine. Back off.

But she's not mine. Jesus. When did I turn into a boyfriend?

I don't know what's the matter with me. Lucy Marino has me tied around her pretty, perfect finger, and for the life of me, I can't fathom why. She's not the first girl I've messed around with after a few too many drinks, but she is the first one whose side I can't stand to leave. I want to watch everything she does. I want to see the sunlight reflect in her eyes and the wind ruffle her hair across her neck. I'm consumed by her. I'm obsessed. When she looks at me, my heart flutters and I feel sick to my stomach.

I hate it.

She's not mine to want and I shouldn't want her. She's given me a million reasons not to. She wants absolutely nothing to do with me. She's closed off. She's stiff around me. That doesn't change the fact, however, that my knees still wobble every time our eyes meet. I lose more and more confidence the longer I'm alone with her. I've always had this charisma that can carry me when all else fails. But Lucy is immune to it.

I feel like a lovesick teenager. I'm stumbling over my feet. My tongue is all twisted up. I'm rambling and hoping that something I say is cool enough to impress her.

It never is.

At best, she tolerates me.

I take a step, she takes two. I ask her a question, she gives me a vague one-word answer. I silently plead for even a millisecond of her attention, she ignores me. For the first time in my life, not only am I losing a game of cat and mouse, but also, I'm the mouse.

I can safely say that being the mouse sucks.

I follow her around the city all afternoon and nothing changes. She ducks into shop after shop and promptly pretends that I don't exist. I'm nothing to her. A mere inconvenience.

I debate leaving her to her own devices and retreating back to the hotel with my tail tucked between my legs, but I'm a Laurier, and Lauriers don't give up so easily.

I don't have to make her like me, but I do have to make her see me. And I mean really see me. Right now, she has this picture of me in her mind that just isn't right at all. I'm not a bad guy. I'm not a villain to be vanquished. I'm not out to get her.

I'm just someone with a lot of confusing feelings threatening to bubble over and boil me alive.

On second thought, maybe it's not my feelings that are confusing. Maybe it's Lucy. Lucy, who's hated me from day one. Lucy, who got me kicked out of class. Lucy, who has no hesitation to speak her mind—loudly. Lucy, who let down her walls for the briefest moment to comfort me when I thought my life was falling apart.

I can't be the only one who feels that things have changed. I can't be crazy in thinking that this all happened for a reason. I was meant to miss my flight. I was meant to sit next to her. I was meant to share a bed with her last night. And I am absolutely, without-a-doubt, meant to change her mind about me—for good. I can't go back to being strangers with this giant wedge between us, not after everything that's happened.

"It's getting dark. We should head back," Lucy says suddenly, though I don't need her to tell me. I'm all too aware of the emerging moonlight making her eyes look more like a steaming cup of coffee versus the volcanic auburn they were in the sunlight.

Why do I care?

"Yeah, you're probably right," I agree. "Let's stop for food on the way. I'll buy you dinner."

Lucy gives me a lazy once over out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't you think you should've done that before you jumped my bones?"

My face heats up. I hope against all odds that it's too dark for Lucy to notice, but the way she's barely hiding a smirk says otherwise.

She has got to stop with this poking-fun-at-me nonsense. After a day trapped in near solitude with her, my ego is beat up enough as it is.

"Look, Noah, I get that you want to be all chivalrous and gentlemanly or whatever," she chides, her voice crackling slightly as she sharply tears her eyes away from mine, "But that ship has sailed. We screwed. You got the prize. You don't need to impress me anymore."

I stop walking, unable to do much of anything but stare at her incredulously. If I wasn't sure before, I definitely am now.

Lucy Marino has lost her damn mind.

She notices I'm no longer trailing loyally after her and turns around, looking at me like I'm the crazy one.

"What?" she demands.

""What?"" I echo. "What do you mean "what"? You know exactly what. You"re walking around here acting like I"ve committed some crime by liking you. Maybe this thing started as a drunken night together, Lucy, but that"s not all it has to be. I don"t know what the hell I did to make you think that all I care about is a decent fuck, but you"re wrong. I like you, Lucy, not your body."

I take a step closer to her, my voice softening. "I like the way you bite your lip when you"re deep in thought, like you"re trying to solve all the world"s problems in your head. I like how you adjust your glasses when you"re nervous, like it"s your way of steadying yourself before facing a challenge."

Lucy"s eyes widen slightly, but she doesn"t interrupt, so I continue. "I like how passionate you get when you"re talking about something you care about, how your whole face lights up and your hands start gesturing wildly. It"s like watching a firecracker come to life."

I smile, shaking my head. "And I love how you wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you try to hide it. You"re not afraid to stand up for what you believe in, even if it means going against the grain. That takes a special kind of courage, Lucy, and it"s one of the things I admire most about you."

I reach out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "So don"t you darefucking tell me that all I care about is your body, because that couldn"t be further from the truth. I care about you, Lucy, all of you. And if you"d just give me a chance, I"d love to try to prove that to you."

Lucy stares at me, her lips parted slightly in surprise.

"You don't like me, Noah. Not really. You can't. You don't know me. Maybe you've formed some kind of anxious attachment, but it won't last. This time tomorrow when you're sitting next to a pretty blonde in some Providence bar celebrating your new, fancy job, I won"t even cross your mind."

"That's not true. It's not. Lucy, you are?—"

She turns her head away from me and screws her eyes shut."Stop it. Just—stop. You don't mean any of this, Noah." Her eyes open, and they're filled with sadness. It's like a slap to the face. "Don't try to make me think you're different. You're not." She lets out a humorless laugh and puts her walls back up just as I was finally beginning to see the pain behind her angry exterior. "You all say you're different, but it's always the same. I believe you, and all I get in return is a broken heart. I'm not doing it again, I can't. Don't make this harder than it already is, alright? Let's just get through tomorrow, part ways, and forget we ever knew each other."

The idea makes me sick, but the way Lucy's looking at me makes me even sicker.

"Alright," I tell her, dejected but doing my best to hide it. "Tomorrow, it's back to strangers."

We stare at each other and for a moment, it almost seems like she hates this as much as I do. Then she turns and walks away, and all I can do is watch her leave.

I want to yell at her to come back. I want to argue and scream because at least that would be better than silence. But I don't. I can't. I've just torn myself open to her and she rejected it, coldly.

I follow after her and remain a safe distance away until we reach the hotel. She branches off in the direction of a coffee shop in the lobby, but I go straight to the room. I need to get my shit together before I face Lucy again. I'm afraid if I tried to look at her right now, I'd become a pathetic puddle on the floor.

I relax into the lumpy cushions of the futon couch (that I'm entirely certain will be my "luxurious" bed tonight) and stare up at the ceiling. I can't fathom how it all went to hell so quickly. Not even just with Lucy. With everything. It's starting to seem like every time I come close to having something good, it gets messed up—I mess it up.

My family, college, my interview, Lucy. I dug my own grave, climbed in, and buried myself alive with all of it.

I know feeling sorry for myself isn't helping anything. I'm just a sad guy on a sad couch. But at this point, I don't think there are any other options. I can't fix things with Lucy. I can't go to my interview. I can't make it to the pot of gold on the other side of the damn rainbow. I'm useless.

I check my phone, hoping against all odds for some good news—hell, any not negative news—but there's nothing. Not even a spam email.

Depressing.

My lockscreen is the only thing staring back at me. It's a photo of me with my sisters, taken about a month before I started college. I remember it like it was yesterday. Betty, only three at the time, was in her "pushing the boundaries" phase. She was constantly testing to see how much she could get away with. Admittedly, I wasn't much help. I thought anything she did was adorable. Until she poured a glass of chocolate milk on my favorite pair of sneakers. She wasn't so cute then. I yelled, she cried—it was a whole thing. Somehow, Lila and Iris ended up backing Betty, and I ended up at the bottom of a dog pile on the floor. My mom snapped the picture and had it framed the next day, even though we certainly didn't have the money to frame a photo. I've kept it as my background ever since for luck, but it's apparently losing its touch if my current predicament is any indication.

I'm silently debating calling Betty for a fail-proof serotonin boost when my phone rings, a telemarketer most likely, since it's an unknown number.

I almost reject the call, but just in the nick of time, I recognize the last four digits.

It's the call about my interview.

I pound the ACCEPT button and hold my phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Am I speaking to Noah Laurier?"

"Yeah—yes, this is he."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Laurier. I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Winslow to inform you that he has availability to reschedule your interview tomorrow at 3 p.m."

"Perfect!" I exclaim, then quickly realize I should probably feign some form of professionalism. "Er, I mean—I believe that will work, sir. Thank you very much for your time."

The only response I receive is a long, droning dial tone. I might've been offended by that any other day, but not when I've just been given another chance to fix everything.

This is the best news I've gotten in days!

I hear the door click open and Lucy walks in. I jump to my feet and rush over to her, too pumped to keep my excitement to myself even when she looks at me warily.

"I got the interview tomorrow!"

Her caution of our close proximity disappears as she grins ear-to-ear and throws her arms around my neck.

"Noah, oh my God! That's amazing!" She seems to realize what she's done and pulls away, putting a painful amount of distance between us. But I can still smell her vanilla perfume as if her body is still intertwined with mine. I want her back in my arms. I want her to want me. "See? I told you it would work out."

I shove my hands into my pockets, cheeks likely hot to the touch, and smile at the floor.

"Thank you, Lucy. Really, I probably would've just turned around and gone home if you hadn't convinced me to call."

"Yeah, well…" she taunts lightheartedly, jabbing her elbow into my arm. "I can be nice…sometimes"

I laugh and shake my head, daring to peek up and look at her.

The thought hits me at once, I will do anything to try to keep this woman close.