Lucas - A Preston Brothers Novel (Book 1)

by Jay McLean

  “He comes home on weekends now that he’s coaching over at the high school. He doesn’t like Lane walking home from work late on Saturday nights, so he lends her his car. That’s all it is.”

  I swallow loudly, but the pain doesn’t fade. “Eat up,” he says. “You got a long day of making it up to Lachlan. The kid worships you, Luke. Don’t give him a reason to change that.”

  I force a smile. “Logan’s up there with him. Who knows? Maybe Lachy can have a new brother to look up to.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Dad mumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Eat quick.”

  LOIS

  Cooper doesn’t know I have a door that leads directly to my room. He doesn’t know what my room looks like. He doesn’t even know what the inside of my house looks like. The closest he’s gotten is where he is now, on my doorstep, knocking and waiting for me to answer.

  I grab his keys off the coffee table and open the door. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He smiles brightly, his body glistening with sweat from the run over here. His parents’ house is fifteen miles away in a secure, gated community, and for the past three weeks (since he found out I walk home from work at midnight) he’s lent me his car so I don’t have to walk. I tried to decline, numerous times, but he was adamant and I was frustrated, so I agreed. It wasn’t the first time he showed that he genuinely cared about me. Especially considering he understood, without a doubt, that my vagina was pretty much its own secure, gated community.

  “Thanks for lending me your car,” I tell him, handing him the keys.

  His gaze trails from my messy bed-hair to my flannel pajamas and down to my cotton socks. “Nice to see you got all dressed up for me.”

  I shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

  After mocking hurt, he says, “Let me take you out to lunch. I’ll even allow myself to be seen in public with you exactly as you are.”

  I let myself smile. “You’re going to regret that.” And I step in the house, slip on my shoes, shout, “Dad, I’m going out for lunch!”

  Cooper doesn’t bat an eyelid. “Is your dad home?” he asks, following me to his car.

  “Yep.”

  “Can I meet him?”

  I come to a halt and turn to him. “Why?”

  He shrugs.

  “It’s not like we’re dating, right?”

  He walks past me to open my car door, his smirk on full display. “Yet.”

  Cooper ignores the looks from everyone when we walk into the busy Applebee’s. Kids from school are here, probably nursing hangovers from the night before. Families sit, enjoying their meals, and then there’s me, pajamas and sunglasses, and I’m embarrassed for him. “Let’s go.” I yank his arm, begging to leave.

  “No.” He pulls back, laughing as he does. “No regrets, Sanders.”

  Swear, “No regrets” is Cooper Kennedy’s mission statement for his life.

  After emotionally breaking down in his car the day after I was (as he puts it) “smashed and dashed” upon, he finally drove me home. We stayed in his car, sitting idle in my driveway, while I waited for the pain to fade. I didn’t want to go in the house, in my room, where memories of Lucas would for sure invade me. So I sat, staring out the windshield until he broke the silence. “It might hurt less if you get it off your chest, you know?”

  I didn’t want to. Not with him. So he said, “Want to punch something?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Is her name Grace?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not her fault.”

  “So… I’m guessing that technically, she’s the woman scorned.” He paused a beat. “So why are you so mad?”

  I faced him, eyes thinned to slits. “I could punch you,” I told him.

  He smirked. “You could try.”

  I did try. His arm was nothing but muscle. And so he laughed, put his car in gear, and reversed out the driveway. For the second time that day, I thought he was taking me somewhere to kill me, and as dramatic as it sounds, I didn’t have it in me to argue.

  He took me to his house, past the guard at the gate, through the pristine, quiet streets of his neighborhood until his car was parked safely in his garage. He got out, opened my door, and said, “Let’s go.”

  So off we went, through his enormous house, past the large kitchen, through the giant sliding doors, walked through the backyard, and into another building that housed his own personal gym.

  “Take off your sweater,” he said.

  I scoffed.

  He smirked. “We’re about to get hot and sweaty.”

  “You’re such a dick.”

  I started to leave but he grasped my arm, and when I turned to face him, he was holding a pair of boxing gloves. He pointed to the punching bag hanging in the corner of the room, strapped the gloves to my hands and said, “Better out than in.”

  I don’t know how long he watched me hit a stupid bag, release my stupid tears, yell out stupid things, but when he stopped me, his arms around my entire body, I felt weak. Weak and stupid. I collapsed on the floor and looked up at him. He held my face in his hands, his thumbs wiping my cheeks, removing the sweat mixed with tears. He seemed sad, sorry for the pathetic girl he didn’t know. His eyes searched mine as he said, “I’m sorry he hurt you, but hurting yourself isn’t going to change that. You can’t control what people do or how they treat you. You can only control how you react to it.” He squatted in front of me, his fist out ready to bump. “No regrets, Sanders.”

  I inhaled deeply, let his words sink just as far, then I bumped his fist. “No regrets.”

  Chapter Twelve

  LUCAS

  Today, we skipped Sunday breakfast. Because today, Brian’s coming over so we can meet his new girlfriend. I’m sure Brian would have told Lane, asked her to join them and she will because she does everything her dad asks of her.

  There’s a knock on my apartment door and for a moment, I think it’s Lane. But Lane doesn’t knock. She just walks in, comments on the state of my apartment and then starts washing dishes.

  The knock sounds again.

  “Yeah?” I call out.

  “It’s Leo.”

  I get up, open the door, sit back on the couch and stare at the blank television like I’d been doing all morning.

  He plops down next to me, his scrawny frame a contrast to mine. “I love this episode,” he jokes, but I don’t find it funny. After a sigh, he says, “I owe you an apology for what I said last week.”

  “It’s fine,” I murmur.

  Silence passes. He breaks it. “She misses you, Luke.”

  I face him, my heart in my throat. “She tell you that?”

  He shakes his head, his eyes as sorry as I feel. “She didn’t need to. We go to the same school, I see her around, talk to her sometimes. She’s not the same. She never is when you guys fight like this.”

  “We’re not fighting.” I look back at the screen. “She hates me.”

  “How bad did you screw up?” he asks, and I can hear the frustration in his voice.

  Outside, a car pulls up, doors slam, and Lachlan shouts, “Laney’s here!”

  Lachlan seems happy, sitting at the picnic table out in the yard next to his godmother while she plates up his food. The sun’s out, shining brightly on both our families, but my mood is dark, my conscience darker.

  She said, “Hey, Luke,” when she got here. Hasn’t said a word since, at least not to me.

  I sit opposite her, watch her smile, watch her laugh, watch her be a part of my family.

  Dad says, “So Lane, how did you do with that piece you entered into that… that uh…”

  “The clothing design contest?” Misty finishes.

  I didn’t know she’d started making clothes, but it’s not surprising. She’d been saving for a sewing machine for a while. My ears perk, waiting for Laney’s response. She smiles at Dad and pours ketchup on Lachlan’s plate. “I got second prize.”

  I smile, I can’t help it. She sees my reaction but doesn’t have one of her
own.

  “That’s great,” Dad says.

  “So, Luke,” Brian jumps in. “First track meet next week. You ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, I’m sure Lois will be there. She hasn’t missed a single one,” he says, his gaze on his daughter. “Right, Lo?”

  Swear, if looks could kill, Laney just aimed a gun at Brian and pulled the damn trigger. And I hate this. I hate that it’s up to our dads to fill the conversation about parts of our lives we know nothing about.

  A phone rings, and everyone but Lachlan and the twins searches their pockets, their purses. “It’s me,” Laney says, raising her phone.

  The ringing continues and Misty coos, “Say hi to Cooper.”

  Jealousy courses through me, spiking through every vein, every cell in my body. Not because it’s Cooper on the phone but because Cooper should be me. It should be my name on the end of Misty’s sentence, my name making my best friend’s dad’s girlfriend coo and bat her eyelids. It should be me she knows, not a guy who’s only been in Lane’s life for a few weeks.

  Laney says, “He’s picking up his car, so he’s probably having trouble finding the keys. I’ll only be a second.”

  I hate that she’s smiling as she brings the phone to her ear, hate the way she says, “Hey Coop” like they’ve been friends since they were kids.

  They haven’t.

  We have.

  And I hate, most of all, that I was the one who ruined it.

  Logan says, “Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to join us?”

  I hate Logan.

  Laney looks up, first at Logan, then at Leo. Leo shrugs. Since when did Leo make the decisions for her?

  “It’s behind the frog statue by the front door,” Laney says into the phone. “Yes, it is, just double check.” … “There is so a frog there.” … “A turtle?” … “Oh yeah. Maybe it is a turtle.”

  “Ask him to come over,” Logan says again, shouting over her shoulder.

  Laney looks to my dad, then to hers. Brian shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind actually meeting the guy who’s been taking up all your time.”

  Please no. Not here. Not in my own goddamn home. I keep my mouth shut and make Laney decide on how badly she wants to pierce my heart with her actions.

  “I’m sure he’s busy today,” Laney says, speaking to her dad, but glancing at me. Her voice drops, along with her gaze. She says into the phone, “You don’t have to, Coop.”

  Logan leans across the table, past Lachlan, knocking over his drink. He yells out our address, and everyone laughs like this is some kind of joke, and maybe it is, and maybe I’m the fucking punch line.

  “Really?” Laney says, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder to wipe up the spilled water. “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

  Three minutes, fifty-eight seconds, and I hear the familiar sound of tires spinning on the loose gravel of my driveway. I don’t look up when Dad gasps, whispers a “Holy hell,” when he must see the car. “Cooper? As in Lance Kennedy’s kid?”

  Brian says, “I assumed, but I wasn’t sure. I mean, I’ve never actually seen him before, just his shadow lurking near the front door.”

  “Dad,” Lane whines, getting up from her seat.

  By the time I’ve found the courage to look up, she’s halfway across the yard and Cooper fucking Kennedy’s leaning against his car, hands in his pockets.

  “Who’s that?” Lachlan asks.

  Brian says, “That’s Lois’s friend.”

  Lachlan’s eyebrows pinch. “Her boyfriend?”

  “Maybe,” Brian says, looking over at them. “We’re not too sure on that yet.”

  Everyone at the table turns to the maybe-couple now walking toward us.

  “But…” Lachlan tears his gaze away from them and focuses on me. “I thought you were her boyfriend.”

  Silence passes, all eyes on me and I don’t know what to say, how to act.

  I stand when they get to us, shake Cooper’s hand, do my best to pretend like that act alone isn’t destroying me.

  “Hey, man,” he says, all casual like, and Cooper Kennedy might just be the first person in my entire life I hate enough to punch.

  Laney introduces my brothers, my dad, then Misty, and finally, Brian.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir. I’ve been asking but Lois, you know…”

  Brian smiles at him, shakes his hand, strong and firm. “She’s a little on the stubborn side.”

  Lane says, “Lucy’s the oldest and only sister. She and her fiancé, Cameron, are on their way so you’ll meet them soon.”

  Cooper smiles down at her. “I know Cam and Luce. We were in the same class, remember?”

  Lane’s cheeks heat. “Oh yeah.”

  “Wait. You were in the same class as Luce?” Brian asks.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So that makes you how old?” he asks.

  Cooper glances at Lane quickly. “I’ll be twenty-one in a couple of months.”

  Brian nods, but I can see the concern behind his eyes, and I wonder if he, too, heard the rumors about why Cooper is actually here in the first place.

  Lane tugs on Cooper’s arm, asks Lachlan to scoot over so Cooper can sit between them.

  “You hungry?” Dad asks him.

  “God yes, and this food smells amazing, Mr. Preston.”

  Dad loads up a plate for Cooper and he eats, and I watch Laney watch him, a smile on her face, and I die a little more.

  Lachlan leans on his forearms, his head tilted, eyes narrowed at Cooper.

  “What’s up, little man?” Cooper asks him.

  “You think you could shove that entire hot dog in your mouth?”

  Cooper chuckles around a mouthful of food. He wipes his lips on a napkin and says, “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it. Think I should?”

  Lachlan nods, his eyes wide.

  “The thing is… I’m still trying to impress your girl Lois, and I’m not sure doing that would help my cause. Maybe another time?”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah, man. Of course,” he tells Lachlan, then looks over at Lane. “This is cute,” he says, tugging on the sleeve of her dress. “Did you make it?”

  Lane smiles, looks down at her clothes and nods once, her cheeks red.

  He leans closer, his mouth to her ear. “You look really nice.”

  She pushes him away, the way she’s done with me so many times before. “Stop it.”

  “What?” he shrugs. “I missed you.”

  Lachlan taps Cooper’s shoulder. “Are you her boyfriend?” he asks.

  I shake my head, stare at the table.

  Cooper laughs. “I’m trying, dude, but she’s not budging. If you can give me any pointers, I’d really appreciate it.”

  I can’t fucking take it. Being here, watching them, makes me physically sick. I stand, say, “I have to go,” and then I run and run and I have no idea whether I’m running from them or from myself. The yards feel like miles, my strides like leaps, until I end up at the cemetery looking down at my mother’s grave and asking her if she’s as disappointed in me as I am in myself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  LOIS

  I wasn’t sure I wanted Cooper there, and I didn’t invite him on purpose. Hell, I didn’t invite him at all. Logan did. So he showed up, charmed the crap out of everyone. Everyone but Luke. I get it. In a way, Luke’s had to deal with Coop at school, at track practice, he shouldn’t have to deal with him in his personal space. But if Luke’s reaction was about me with Cooper, then that was something else. Something I shouldn’t care about. Just like he didn’t care about me.

  “You could’ve told me I’d be walking into the Prestons’ house,” Cooper says, driving me to work after the disastrous lunch.

  “You didn’t really give me a chance… you were all,”—I lower my voice to mock his— “I’m totally down if it means hanging with you.”

  He laughs, stops the car at a red light. Then he turns to me, his eyes on m
ine. “When are you finally going to let me kiss you, Sanders?”

  “Shut up.” I shake my head, look up at the traffic lights, hoping for a green.

  “I’m serious,” he says.

  “You don’t want to kiss me, Cooper.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Come on, light. He settles my bouncing knee with his hand, and I choke on a gasp.

  “Lo?”

  “Is this your thing?” I blurt out.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Hooking up with younger girls… is that like, your fetish or something?” Yeah, I’m not deaf, nor am I immune to the high school rumor mill.

  He inhales deeply and removes his hand from my leg, places them both on the steering wheel as he takes off again. He keeps his gaze on the road. I keep mine on him. He blinks, his long, dark lashes fanning across his tanned cheeks. His wide chest rises, falls, but he doesn’t speak. Not until we’re in the parking lot at work. He puts the car in park and turns to me, his lips twisted. “So you heard that, huh?”

  I nod. “It’s not a big deal or anything. I just don’t want—”

  “She was fifteen,” he cuts in. “But she didn’t look it. I swear.”

  “You don’t have to explain, Coop.”

  “No.” Another breath. “I think I do. Or, at least I want to with you.”

  I swallow, nod for him to continue.

  “Her name was Jodie. She was suspended for smoking weed at her private school, and I guess she got bored, thought it’d be fun to go to campus and pretend to be a student. You know, mess with her dad’s head.” He rubs his forehead, his face scrunched as if it actually physically pains him to tell me all this. “I noticed her in a couple of my lectures. She’d raise her hand, join in on the class. Then after one of them, she asked if I wanted to grab a coffee with her. We actually dated for a couple of weeks, went out a few times. One thing led to another and here I am.”