Page 6 of Please Save Me

That was the scary part. I had no idea what Dale knew, and what he didn’t. But Ididknow that there would be safety in numbers. And, until Lucian and Sophia got home, Sebastian was the only number I had.

Chapter 2

Sophia

I must’ve been the only girl in the world lucky enough to be in a relationship withtworockstars.

Well, I guess if I’m being technical, one of them was still rockstar-adjacent... But still! Mason sent a video of Lucian singing to her manager, who sent it to a record label, who then sent it to someone else who was important—I wasn’t sure exactlywhathappened. All I knew was Lucian had some sort of tentative record deal.

Between Lucian’s nervous energy and Mason’s nesting instinct, they had completely converted our newly-renovated basement into a state-of-the-art recording studio. They’d been spending most of their days writing songs, messing around with instruments, and setting up equipment. They wanted everything prepared to start recording after Rosemary arrived.

Since Lucian was already signed, the record label had sent him averyhefty advance. And with that money, he wanted to takemeout. Actually, he wanted to take Mason out, too, but she laughed at the idea of taking off her sweatpants to sit in a car for three hours.

Honestly? I didn’t blameher.

But now wasn’t the time to think of Masie. All I needed to think about was howsexyLucian looked in his silk button-down. Too often, this man wore oversize shirts that hid his incredible body. This shirt was still loose-fit, but it perfectly showcased the lean muscles in his arms. I pulled my lower lip through my teeth as I ran a finger around the sugared rim of my glass.

For the first time in years, Lucian seemedgenuinelyhappy. His soulmate was finally back in his life, and he was on the precipice of the career he’d always dreamed about. But... one huge concern stuck out in the back of my mind.

Rockstar status tended to come with a certain lifestyle. Lucian was seven months sober—no drugs, no alcohol, not so much as a cigarette—and I was proud of him. Like,enormouslyproud. I just wanted to make sure he’d be able to stand up to peer pressure. Alcohol had never been a problem for him, anyway. Surely he could handle a little test.

I looked down at my cup, then back to him.

“This is really good. Do you want a sip?”

Lucian’s dark eyes went wide as his gaze darted down to his diet cola.

“You’re fucking with me.” He took a long pull of the drink, then sucked a breath through his teeth, acting as if it was as hard as the liquor in my cup.

I know I was playing with fire, tempting Lucian this way. When I wrote a paper on addiction transfer during my undergrad program, I learned how an addict's brain searches for anything that gives them dopamine. I just hoped thatMasoncould be his new addiction. Once Lucian’s music career took off, he’d be exposed to every type of drug and alcohol known to man. If I introduced him to one of them now, maybe he could stand a fighting chance when I wasn’t around—kind of like how my moms used to let us drink in the basement so that we didn’t go out and do it anywhere else.

This could be perfectly controlled chaos, and it would be fine.

“We’re celebrating.” I smiled, resting my head in my hand. “You never really liked how being drunk feels, and I feel like you deserve to let loose a little.”

Lucian cleared his throat before undoing the top button of his silk button down. One of his many tattoos poked out of the new neckline.

“I–are you sure?” His hesitation almost made me reconsider.

Still, I nodded.

He reached over and slid the short glass closer. Gingerly, he picked it up and brought it to his nose. He winced a little as he inhaled.

“What’s in this?”

“Gin.”

His lips twisted into a grimace as he smelled it once more. “Gin’s not really my thing. Can I order something else?”

“Of course! One drink won’t kill you. It hardly counts as breaking your sobriety.”

He seemed to ease into my words as he picked up the drink menu in the middle of the table. When the waiter passed by again, Lucian ordered something called a “Frenchmartini”. I had to wonder if he was subconsciously missing Mason.

“So, it’s officially been just over a month since we got our Masie back. How do you feel?”

At the mention of her name, a smile erupted on Lucian’s face. Seeing him now, you’d never believe that just over a month ago he wanted nothing to do withMason-effing-Albright.

“It feels like she never left,” he admitted, running a black-polished finger down the side of his cup. “I… she really wants to get married.”

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