Page 23 of Once Upon A Player
“Fine.” I shake my head and kiss his cheek. He came up with this safety check idea the first time I went out with Geoff, and if I’d had any other boyfriends, I’m sure I would’ve got the same pep talk. “You should GPS track me.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“I wasjoking.” I laugh and blow Mum a kiss as I make my way along the hall.
“You look lovely,” she says, snuggling into Dad, and Sam makes gagging noises from behind them. “Have a fab night. See you later.”
It’s only ten to seven by the time I arrive at Lucas’s, and so I park around the corner to wait for a few minutes. For the hundredth time tonight, I pull out the handmade invitation that’s in my bag and scrutinize it. I’m having serious second thoughts about giving it to him, but despite having all week to think about it, I couldn’t come up with any gift idea that didn’t seem either too OTT or just plain stupid.
This falls into the stupid category.
Maybe I won’t give it to him, after all.
I shove it back into my bag, and the minutes crawl by, which does nothing for my nerves. Last night I Googled Harry Carter, as he and Lucas have sometimes been in the gossip columns together, and I remember Harry being called the brainiac twin. I’d never known why, but always thought it was kind of insulting to Lucas.
Well, I know now why the press calls him that. He’s the mastermind behind Blitz, the company that’s gone global withThe Plains of Exitium.It’s an online game that Sam’s always talking about even though he’s way too young to play it. Talk about a gifted family. I wonder what their sister’s brilliant at?
As soon as it’s seven, I heave a sigh of relief and drive to Lucas’s apartment block. Thrills race through me when he’s waiting for me at the gated entrance to the underground car park. He looks as though he’s just stepped out of one of his sponsorship ads, in dark jeans and an open-necked shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. My heart does a completely unnecessary little flip in my chest, and it’s suddenly hard to breathe properly.
He rests one hand on the roof of my car and grins at me through the open window. “Hey, Violet.”
Butterflies dance through my chest. It’s sad how much I love hearing him say my name. “Hey, yourself, Lucas. Happy birthday.”
I should’ve got him a birthday card, but I didn’t have a clue what kind to get him, although I was tempted by the dirty joke section. Except I’m not sure we know each other well enough for that, and I could hardly get him a romantic one, could I?
“Thanks.” He strolls around the car and gets in beside me before clicking a remote that opens the security gates. “You can park in my guest bay.”
His cologne is subtle, and I only breathe in the faintest hint of sandalwood and spices, but it’s enough to make my pulses flutter as though I’m about to bungee jump off a mountain.
Luckily, I manage not to make a twat of myself by drooling over his magnificent thighs, which look just as fabulous encased in denim as they do when accentuated in micro football shorts.
Once I’ve parked and locked up, he opens the door to a flash sports car that Dad would die for. “I can’t remember if I told you we’re meeting Harry and everyone in Bromley? It’s about an hour’s drive.”
An hour’s drive with Lucas, in a car that looks like something from the twenty-second century, sounds good to me. “No problem. Is that where your brother lives?”
“Yep. He’s a total genius, but I better warn you, socializing isn’t his forte. If he doesn’t say much, don’t take it personally. That’s just the way he is with people he doesn’t know well.”
I try to imagine how Lucas’s identical twin could possibly be so different from him, and fail. As I slide into the car, the rich scent of leather with a hint of lemon surrounds me. The carpets are pristine, and everything is sparkling. No old fast food boxes or sweet wrappers litter the floor like in Dad’s car. Then again, it’d be criminal to let a car like this stink like a three-week-old burger.
As we leave the car park, I sink into the seat and surreptitiously ogle Lucas’s hands on the steering wheel. Should a guy’s hands be such a turn-on? After a year of focusing on my studies and living like a nun, my imagination sure is making up for lost time in the few weeks since I met him.
Not just my imagination. All my girly bits are melty and warm, reminding me how long it’s been since they’ve received any attention, and I press my thighs together and mentally grit my teeth.
Lucas is great fun, and I like him way more than I should, butfriendsis all we’ll ever be. And that’s only temporary. Once he’s playing again, back in the limelight, there won’t be any place for this weird thing between us.
“Are you okay?”
“What?” Even though I wasn’t thinking anything bad, guilt drips through me as I turn to him. He glances at me and gives me his bone-melting smile, which does nothing to cool my hot visions of getting naked with him right now, in his car.
Stop thinking about sex.I grip my bag on my lap in the vain hope that’ll help kill my out-of-control lust, but obviously the celibacy dam has busted, and I’m a goner.
“You looked like you were having second thoughts about tonight. It wasn’t what I said about Harry, was it? He’s all right. And my sister’s great. And if you want to leave after ten minutes, just give me a kick under the table, and we’ll be out of there.”
Oh, great. Now he thinks I’m being a precious princess. Wait—that’s better than him guessing what I was really thinking, isn’t it?
“Of course, it wasn’t anything you said. I was just…” I hesitate, since I have to tell him something and I suck big-time at lying. But there’s no way I’m confessing that I desperately wish there could be more between us. “Just thinking about something that happened at work. That’s all.”
Violet Henderson, are you fucking insane?Why would any girl be thinking about work when she’s alone with Lucas freaking Carter?
