Conflicted

by Missy Johnson

  He stares at me, long and hard, before finally clearing his throat. “Thanks for your time, Ms. Anderson. I’ll be in touch once I’ve had a chance to go over everything. Is there anything you’d like to add?” he asks.

  “No, just that I’m willing to do anything if you give me a chance,” I blurt out.

  He raises an eyebrow, and I blush furiously and then curse myself for letting my mind go there. Smirking, he stands up and leads me over to the door.

  “Thank you for coming down here to meet with me. I’ll be in touch.”

  I walk out and he closes the door behind me. I walk down the hall, not letting myself breathe until I’ve reached the safety of the elevator. Impatiently, I hit the button, and then I hit it again thirty seconds later. Finally, it opens.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as I step inside. Tears sting my eyes as the doors close. Thankfully I’m alone, so there is no one to see me cry—only my sad reflection in the mirrored wall.

  I couldn’t have stuffed that up any harder if I’d tried.

  Chapter Seven

  Lucas

  It’s late Wednesday evening. I’ve been banging on Lacey’s door for what feels like forever and nobody is answering. I’m pretty sure she’s home, because her car is in the driveway.

  “Lace,” I holler, cupping my hands around my mouth. I hear footsteps, and then the door opens and Lacey stands there, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

  She steps aside, her expression sullen. I squeeze past her, trying to ignore the feel of her body against mine and the sweet smell of her shampoo. I feel myself harden and quickly turn away. Not that she’d notice. She’s so lost in her own little world at the moment I could be waving my dick in her face and it wouldn’t get a response.

  “I’m guessing the interview didn’t go well?” I ask. I shove my hands in my pockets and follow her into the living room, the happiness I’m feeling tinged with guilt. I’m such a shit friend.

  “I made myself look like a complete tool,” she mumbles, rubbing her temples. She catches sight of her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace and laughs. “God, I’m a mess.” Her long dark hair hangs freely around her face in soft waves. I resist the urge to reach out and stroke it, because even without touching it, I can see how soft it is. She has no idea how fucking beautiful she really is.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” I say.

  I walk over to her and throw my arms around her, sensing she can use a hug. She falls into my embrace and sighs. My lips touch her cheek and I sigh, breathing in her scent. I could stand here and hold her forever.

  “Was I right? Is he an arsehole?” I’m only half joking, but she laughs.

  She looks up at me, leaning her chin against my chest. She makes it so fucking hard to resist her, yet I force myself to do it, day after day. It’s no fucking wonder that I’m always tired.

  “He was nice. I just felt like such a ditz. There’s no way I’m getting it.”

  “Did he say why he wanted a forensic psych major?” I ask casually. As thrilled as I am, I can’t shake the feeling that there is more to all this.

  “Because of the case he’s working on, I’m guessing,” she replies, shrugging. “That is the only thing that makes me glad I’m not going to get it. I’m not sure I’d handle being in the same room as Duane Fairgone.”

  “As in the guy who killed that kid?” I ask.

  Lacey nods. I smile sympathetically. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew Lacey’s cousin was murdered by a psychopath when she was thirteen. While I understand why that kind of experience could make you want a career in forensic psychology, it’s also a damn good reason for why you wouldn’t. I’ve always wondered how she’d go dealing with cases that are so close to home, and you don’t get much closer than Duane Fairgone. “That had you thinking about Allie?”

  She nods. “I couldn’t get my head straight. My thoughts were all muddled and everything came out wrong. I’m sure he thinks I’m some crazy, narrow-minded girl, which is so far from the truth. It’s just thinking about what happened to Allie…” She shudders. “You never think those kinds of things happen to people you know. It’s so much easier to believe the world is a nice safe place when you don’t have firsthand experience with that kind of horror.”

  “I get it,” I mutter. I know better than anyone how hard life can suck.

  Lacey watches me through narrowed eyes, her expression suspicious. She takes my hands in hers and squeezes them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think about your mum.”

  “It’s okay,” I sigh. It’s more than just what happened with Mum—so much more—and I’m sure Lacey suspects as much. But I can’t tell her any of that without telling her everything—something I’m not ready to do. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to tell her everything. “Don’t let it get you down. Maybe you’re better off without this internship. You work way too hard as it is. Maybe you need to take this as a sign that you need to slow down.”

  We are complete opposites, yet so similar. We’re both trying to escape our pasts in completely different ways. She pours everything into her schoolwork while I do everything I can to distract myself from life. It’s like we’re on different routes to the same destination.

  “Maybe,” Lace repeats, her tone uncertain. “I don’t have the luxury of having all my fees paid for, Lucas. If not this internship, I still need to work over the break.”

  The only thing I ever received from my father was a trust fund covering my college tuition. It was basically an assurance that I would stay out of his life. It was a fair trade.

  Lacey winces. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded—”

  “It’s fine,” I assure her. “I know you need the cash, but an internship is going to be much harder than working in a coffee shop.”

  “And much more rewarding,” she argues. “Look, I see what you’re trying to do, but it doesn’t change the fact that I screwed myself out of a great opportunity. Working in a coffee shop isn’t going to stand out on my resume like this would’ve.”

  I open my mouth to say something but then close it again. I can’t argue with that. “You’re right. So wait and see. Who knows, maybe you will get it.” I shrug, and Lacey rolls her eyes and I laugh. “Think positive for once, Lace.”

  “Sure,” she says, plastering a fake smile on her face. “I’ve got this, right?”

  I leave Lacey a few hours later feeling much better about everything. In a couple of days, I’ll be able to relax and forget I ever heard his name. Aaron who? He can fuck off out of my life just like he’s done every other time. This all just a coincidence. I actually believe myself this time, because the interview wouldn’t have gone to shit if this was about me. Things will be back to normal soon.

  All I have to do is keep myself calm until then.

  Chapter Eight

  Lacey

  “Shit!” I grab hold of my big toe and dance around the living room in pain as I glare at the offending door that just clobbered my toe. The phone rings again, reminding me why I was running inside in the first place.

  It’s Saturday morning, three days past the most disastrous interview of my life, and I’m frantically searching for my phone, which I have once again misplaced. I locate it under a pile of clothes on the couch.

  “Hello?” I ask, breathless and panting through the pain.

  “Hi, Lacey? It’s Rebecca Martin here, Aaron Wilmot’s assistant? We met the other day.”

  “Right,” I say, still panting. My heart races. Would she be calling everyone, or just who they chose? I take a breath, not letting myself get excited.

  “Aaron asked me to call you and let you know your internship application was successful,” she says, her voice cheerful. “You start on Monday, at eight thirty a.m.”

  “Wow, thank you,” I gasp, sinking onto the couch. I want to squeal, I’m so excited. My thoughts switch from holy shit, I got it, I actually did it to what the hell is he thinking, choosing me?

  My heart be
gins to pound as I realise what this means: eight hours a day, five days a week working alongside Aaron Wilmot. The Aaron Wilmot. For six whole weeks. I can’t even begin to think about the bigger picture yet, because if I do I’ll lose the plot completely.

  I hear a distant chatter and my eyes widen. Holy shit, she’s still on the phone. I lift it to my ear and hope I haven’t missed any important information.

  “Congratulations, and I’ll see you Monday.”

  I sigh with relief and end the call. I have to tell someone. My hands shake as I dial Lucas. I need to tell someone, and he’s always my first port of call when I have news—good or bad. It’s not like I can call my parents and expect them to be happy.

  As I wait for Lucas to answer, I’m shocked at how nervous I am to share my news. I just want someone to assure me that this internship is a good thing, and Lucas’s reaction could go either way. I have no idea what’s been bothering him lately, but there’s something off about him.

  “Hello?” Lucas’s deep, husky voice cuts through my thoughts.

  “I got it. Holy crap, he actually chose me!” I laugh hysterically as I rub my forehead, unable to wipe the dopey smile off my face. I can’t believe it.

  “That’s awesome, Lace. I’m glad you got it. When do you start?” he says. He sounds genuinely pleased for me, and I’m happy his mood has improved.

  “Monday,” I say nervously. Reality sinks in. Monday. That’s two days away. I don’t have much time to prepare. “You want to help me celebrate tonight?” I ask, running a hand through my unruly hair. An hour jogging around the park track and my hair has more knots in it than a scout handbook.

  “Depends where,” he replies, sounding suspicious. “And I’m warning you, if the words ‘Kimber’s’ or ‘Java Hut’ come out of your mouth, the answer is no.”

  “Fine,” I reply, refusing to let his teasing get the better of me. Visions of us sitting in one of my favourite coffee houses sipping an extra-decadent Swiss hot chocolate while listening to live jazz begin to disappear. “You choose then. No doubt it will be somewhere full of drunk young women with low self-esteem.”

  “Is there any other kind of woman?” he cracks. “I’m kidding,” he assures me when I hiss at him. I bite back another lecture on his choice of lifestyle. “You know I just like to wind you up. And I know how much you love your little coffee joints, but this calls for a real celebration for once, okay?”

  For once? Has he forgotten dragging me out on an all-day pub crawl last week? Or last month when I had to stand through four hours of death metal? My ears are still ringing from that shit.

  “Okay,” I agree, giving up. I’m already regretting letting the words you choose escape from my mouth, because God knows where we’ll end up. “But you will not be getting me drunk.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. Who would drive me home if I did?”

  I ask Ariel to join us, but she has a better offer. When I find out she’s going to the movies with Joshua Burns, I’m completely understanding. He’s captain of the soccer team and I’d stand up my own celebrations for a date with him. I had a crush on the guy in freshman year. Not even Lucas knew about that—mostly because he was my rebound crush when I was trying to get over Lucas.

  The memory of Lucas shutting me down pops into my head and I cringe. It was one of the worst moments of my life. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve always had a thing for him, and I still can’t believe I worked up the courage to make a move. That’s so not me, and something I’d never do again. Look how it turned out.

  I was sure our friendship was ruined, but while things were awkward for a while, we eventually got back on track. That’s when you know it’s real. Our friendship could survive anything.

  Lucas pounds on the front door as I’m brushing my hair. I glance at the clock and see that he’s fifteen minutes early. I’m shocked because he’s never early for anything. As in ever. On my way over to the door I tie my long hair back in a loose ponytail. I swing open the door and walk back to my room, Lucas at my heels.

  “You’re wearing that?” he asks, throwing himself onto my bed.

  I turn around, my hand resting on my hip, and glare at him. It took me ages to finally settle on the low-cut indigo-coloured wrap shirt to wear with my jeans. Ariel’s strappy four-inch heels finish off the look. Or so I thought.

  “What’s wrong with it?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious. It’s not often that I dress up. I tug at the soft cotton shirt, disappointed that he’s not impressed. Do I want him to find me attractive? My cheeks heat and I avoid making eye contact. Where did that thought come from?

  “Nothing. I mean, you look cute, but you’re not exactly screaming ‘hit on me, I’m single’.”

  I let out a laugh. “I didn’t know that is what I was aiming for.”

  He walks out, coming back a few moments later carrying one of Ariel’s dresses. He throws it at me and I hold it up and sigh.

  “Well, this definitely screams ‘hit on me,’” I comment, narrowing my eyes at the flimsy piece of sheer black fabric. On Ariel this looks amazing. On me, well, that’s another story.

  “Every night out should be seen as an opportunity to score,” he informs me, a grin on his face.

  That right there is a perfect example of why Lucas has never had a serious relationship. Rolling my eyes, I give in and change, but pair it with a black knit jacket to cover a little more skin.

  “Now you look irresistible,” he says approvingly.

  “Great, can we go now?” I ask, hiding my blush. His eyes burn a hole right through me, sending shivers down my back. And I can’t deny his words have my heart racing. I grab my purse and stalk out of the room.

  He follows, chuckling to himself. “When was the last time you were fucked senseless, Lace?” He pauses for a moment, a grin playing on his lips. “Actually, when was the last time you were fucked at all?”

  “That’s none of your business,” I growl, shoving him out the front door. I’m mortified. Did he really just ask me that? I can’t even look at him. I’m so embarrassed because honestly, it’s been a long time. He doesn’t need to know how long.

  “I’m your best friend,” he protests, smirking. “Everything is my business. Lace, you need to loosen up—no pun intended. Have some fun. You’re way too serious.”

  “I don’t need your input on my love life,” I retort, my face red. I glance at him and wonder where all this is coming from. He’s never had much to say about my love life before. Why now? “Maybe you should focus on your own love life before you start trying to meddle in mine.”

  “Me?” he laughs. “I get plenty, in case you don’t remember.”

  “That’s the problem. When are you going to settle down? You spread yourself around way too much,” I add, mimicking his tone.

  He laughs and throws his arm around me, tugging me back in line as I take a step towards my car.

  “We’ll take mine. I don’t trust yours not to fall apart.”

  I grumble, but he’s right. My car is in less-than-perfect condition, and most days it’s a tossup on whether it will start. But it’s mine and not financed by my parents, which means more to me than anything. I hate relying on anyone but myself for anything—which is just another reason why this internship is so important to me.

  I have a chance to show my parents I’m worth something; and that, for me, is priceless.

  Chapter Nine

  Lacey

  “So, where are we going?” I ask. We walk over to his car and I slide into the passenger seat.

  He walks around to the driver’s side and gets in. Buckling up his belt, he smiles at me, his brown eyes twinkling. When he’s not inebriated, he always drives, because he sucks as a passenger.

  “You’ll see. And no complaining about my choice of venue, okay?”

  I groan and lean my arm against the window, again regretting letting him decide where we’re going. Last time it was his choice I ended up in the middle of a rave surrounded by drunk guys who thought it w
as their right to grope me.

  I don’t have to wait long to find out what he has in store this time. We’re up the other end of town when Lucas swings into a parking lot opposite a strip of clubs well known as being a cesspit of one-night stands. I shoot him a look, already annoyed.

  “What?” he says, his tone defensive.

  “We’re supposed to be celebrating my achievement,” I grumble, my brow creasing. I’m annoyed at how inconsiderate he can be, because I’ve seen the opposite. Whenever I need him, he’s there for me, and a totally different guy to this one.

  “We can do that and have fun at the same time, can’t we?” he protests.

  “I’d hardly call this dump fun,” I retort.

  He gets out of the car and walks around to my door, opening it. My heart skips a beat as I look him over. He looks hot in his slim-fitted shirt and tight pants that show his athletic frame. He rakes his hand through his dark, unruly hair and grins at me, his brown eyes sparkling.

  “Come on, you don’t even know where I’m taking you,” he says, laughing as he drags me from the car. His warm hand grips hold of mine and doesn’t let go. My heart skips as his fingers entwine with mine.

  Stop it, I tell myself. You’re over him, remember? I focus on the concrete ahead of me, not thinking about how his strong hands would feel moving over the bare curve of my back.

  “Unless it’s a strip club, I don’t think my reaction is far off.” I sigh and decide to be the bigger person, mainly because I know this is an argument I’m not going to win.

  I never do.

  We walk halfway down the strip to a dodgy-looking club with music thumping from inside. God knows why the line extends halfway up the street. I can’t think of a worse way to be spending my evening. I go to join the line when Lucas nudges me.

  “I know the dude at the door. He owes me a favour for banging his cousin. What?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders when I let out a groan. I shake my head. What’s the point in saying anything?