Page 154 of Please Hate Me

I choked on a breath as I prepared an excuse for why I was touching his things without permission, but the look on his face halted my musings. Lucian’s expression was soft, and a coy smile tugged at one corner of his lips, causing a dimple to decorate his cheek. As I stared at him, I forgot how to breathe. His eyes trained on mine, and I focused on his forehead as the weight of eye contact became too much to bear.

“It was cocaine, actually.” I tried to deny the flutter in my chest with a weak joke.

“If I can’t do coke, neither can you,” Lucian snorted.

He approached me, extending a hand to take the instrument from me. I took the strap off before passing the well-polishedrosewood to him. After returning it to its stand, he pushed me to the side, settling onto the piano bench with me. His leg wasn’t touching mine, but that didn’t stop a tingle from sweeping across my skin, as if my atoms were begging to touch his.

Slowly, I allowed my knee to press against his, and he placed a hand on my thigh. The dark material of my pajamas contrasted with the plethora of silver rings on his hand, and a nervous hum escaped me as I zeroed in on his ring finger. Something about the slip of silver masquerading as a wedding ring caused my mind to swim.

No part of me wanted to marry Lucian—not yet, anyway—but thathadbeen the plan, years ago. I wasn’t sure when my senses would wash ashore, but I knew I felt an odd pang of jealousy at the idea of Lucian having a spouse who wasn’t me.

“You decorated my favorite choker,” I squeaked, gesturing to his hand. He barked out a laugh, and I looked away, desperately trying to cling to the idea that I didn’t love Lucian.

As soon as Seb’s case ended, he and I would leave. There would be no life with Lucian, no future with Sophia, no co-parenting with Cameron. As I promised myself it would be better that way, the little voice in the back of my head disagreed, telling me I wanted to stay, and that I should. But I was too afraid of the what-ifs to entertain that thought.

“I’m better than you at guitar, by the way.” He elbowed my arm.

Things were getting too familiar with us. Recently, it felt like the last six years didn’t exist, that Lucian and I had never broken up. Those feelings only amplified the imaginary wedding bells chiming in the distance.

“Oh—I’m sorry, how many instruments canyouplay?“ I challenged.

He rolled his eyes. “Only things with strings, the organ, and the piano.”

“Actually, the piano has strings.”

“God, you’re annoying.” He looked at the instrument in his lap for a moment before putting it on a nearby stand and reaching into his pocket to produce a very familiar-looking phone.

“Where did you find that?” I asked, retrieving it from his hand.

Before he could answer, I had already unlocked the screen. Usually, my phone was a sea of notifications: comments on my social media, texts from my manager or PR specialist, and recently, missed phone calls from my dad’s assistant. But now I had absolutely nothing. I thought this was a little weird, but part of me was relieved that nobody was trying to contact me.

Lucian smirked. “I had Cam hide it… Ireallydon’t want you talking to your dad.”

He leaned back onto the piano, causing random, out-of-tune notes to sound as his elbows collided with the keys. Lucian’s confession should have made me mad. It was one thing to ask me not to contact my father; it was another to steal my personal property, even if it was just for a few hours.

“I’m not happy you did that.” But I wasn’t quite angry, either.

Lucian shrugged. “And I’m not happy that James Albright is a piece of shit.”

I exhaled, knowing he was right.

Still, I loved my dad. No one in this house knew what he was like before my mom scooped me up and forced me to live in America. Lucian and Sophia saw the custody battle, how my dad would promise to visit and flake before trying to buy my forgiveness. Cameron had listened to my stories of all the wrongs my dad had done. Sebastian had the most complete picture, but he was still missing the first eleven years of my life with my dad.

None of them knew how he used to read to me every night. No one sat in on the violin lessons. Nobody saw him bringing me treats backstage when I came to his concerts as a kid. If theyreally knew my father the way I did, they’d understand my love for him.

“Turn that frown upside down, kitten. We’re having a good night tonight.”

Lucian bent down and grabbed a stack of leather-bound books—the same ones I had seen Pepper snuggled up with a few weeks ago. It was easy to forget just how tall Lucian was when compared to Sebastian and Cameron, but as I watched him effortlessly grasp three books in one hand, I felt small. Not in a bad way; it was just a sudden reminder that I was living among giants.

“Hey, before we go out there… Can I tell you something?” His tone was even, with absolutely no hints of the sarcasm or irritation he normally carried.

Lucian’s gaze settled on me. Light from a nearby lamp caught in his sharp features, illuminating his abyssal gaze. In most lighting conditions, it was hard to discern where Lucian’s pupil ended and his iris started. But, in the glow of the lamp, they were so much more than brown; flecks of green ran through them like seedlings bursting forth from damp soil.

With his cold demeanor and dark looks, Lucian should have reminded me of winter: brutal, frigid, and completely unforgiving. For the longest time, that was the Lucian that lived on in my memories. But now, as I basked in his radiance, Lucian reminded me of spring.

My face warmed as I realized I had been staring.

“You’re not going to ask me if I’m okay, right?”

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