This Fearless Girl (St. Clary's University #2) - E. M. Moore Page 0,16
Lance Jacobs’ orders?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
“You keep telling me that you’re not going to let me get away, right? Well, you better be prepared to answer the hard questions then.”
Lucas turns toward me on the bed, moving my chin up so he can stare into my eyes. “We used to do everything he said. There’s a lot you still need to learn, but it’d be better coming from Stone. He told me we’ll be talking about it tomorrow, so let me hold you tonight, okay?” He tips his chin and kisses me on the forehead, letting his lips linger. His touch is a form of hypnosis because I swear, I do exactly what he says. With all the emotions tangling through me today, it feels like I’ve run a marathon, and within moments, I’m out for the count.
I wake still in Lucas’ arms. He’s spooning me, his soft breaths feathering against my hair. A knock comes on the door, and it opens a second later. Stone sticks his head in, and I immediately close my eyes, pretending to be asleep. “Lucas,” Stone whispers. He says it again a little more forcefully and Lucas stirs. “I made breakfast.”
“Yeah. Right. Okay,” Lucas says sleepily.
There’s a long pause, and I think I hear the door click back into place, but when I open my eyes and look over, Stone is staring at me, face pulled down into a frown. His gray-blue eyes are actually soft, and with the backlight of the sun around him, he looks like a damn angel.
As soon as he sees me looking at him, his lips pull tight and he retreats. The door finally clicks after him. I start to shift, still trying to wrap my head around the many facets of Stone when Lucas’s grip on me tightens. “I don’t want to start the day,” he says groggily. “I want to pretend you still like me.”
“Who says I ever liked you?”
I turn to find a smirk play over his lips. “Should I re-enact Mythology class? Or maybe my head buried between your legs?” He peeks at me with one eye open. “Oh, you like me, Wild Girl. I just have to get you to like me in other ways.”
“Why bother?” I ask offhandedly, trying to crawl over him to get to the bathroom. He flattens me against his chest in my attempt to escape, my legs straddling his torso. It’s a position I’ve dreamed about, I’m not going to lie. He says he likes it rough which makes me wonder what he would do if I were in charge.
“Because I saw you when no one else did,” he says, his brown eyes captivating. “We all did. What we saw drew us to you, and I’ve been waiting for years to step in. Now that we’re here, I’m not giving that up.”
His words lift a little of the hurt from last night off my chest. Feeling sorry for myself doesn’t do me any good. I know that. I’ve lived a life worthy of wishing for more, and the only thing it’s taught me is that kind of thinking will only bring heartache.
I want to ask Dickie why he would do such a thing. But I’ll never be able to. The way I see it, I have two choices. I can worry myself over it, always wondering. Always second-guessing Dickie’s every action, every conversation. Or I can walk away and remember Dickie for the friend he was. Because whatever he did doesn’t take away from the fact that he was always there. In the days after my father’s disappearance, he was there for me more than he ever was, and I can’t forget that.
“You’re a sweet talker, Lucas Govern.”
“Is it working?”
I laugh, propping myself back up again. “Time will tell.”
His easy laughter follows me as I make my way to the bathroom. My hair smells like chlorine and, honestly, I’m excited to use my curl shampoo and conditioner again.
After I finish, I peek around the bathroom door to find my room empty again. I search my closet for something to wear, overwhelmed by all the choices. I opt for a pair of gray shorts and navy tank top, leaving my curly hair down. I hesitate with my hand on the door. So many barriers separate Stone and I that it’s going to be hard to bring them down.
Okay, so he didn’t know his father was bringing Cole to us. I get that. I can even see that he was only