Sweet Spot (Irresistible)

by Stella Rhys

  “Let’s go upstairs.”

  We went into his apartment and once the door closed behind us, I asked him again. “Please tell me something, Lukas,” I pleaded gently.

  “Cam broke into my office today.”

  My jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes but it’s fine. No one got hurt,” Lukas said, tipping his head to the side as he loosened his tie.

  “You look exhausted.”

  “I am.” He tossed his tie onto the couch. Turning to me, he cupped my elbows. “Listen, if you see a guy around here, six feet, kind of sandy blonde hair and a funny shaped face, that’s Cam,” he said. “If you so much as see him even on this block, you call me.”

  “Why, is he going to hurt me?” I asked incredulously. “Why would he care about me?”

  Lukas shook his head. “I don’t know. Because he’ll do anything to get under my skin and he already fucked with Tess so now he’s looking for other options.”

  My eyes fluttered. “What did he do to Tess?”

  “I don’t think I can explain all that right now.”

  “Well, try,” I pressed, surprising myself – and him too, apparently, because he looked up at me confused. “Sorry. I just…” I let go of a sigh. “I don’t think I can keep pretending anymore.”

  “Pretending what?”

  “That I’m totally fine with being left in the dark,” I said. “You ask me questions, I answer. I ask you questions, you dodge them. From the start, you’ve made me open up to you. You made me confess every little thing about my life to you but when I try to get to know you beyond the little fantasy bubble we’re in, the wall goes up. And I’m not your girlfriend, I know that, so I shouldn’t care. But I do. I care about you.”

  Standing in the middle of the living room, I looked at him, feeling like this had to be the point where I should stop talking. I could easily get away with “I care about you” but not the rest of what I had to say. But my lips were itching to blurt it all out and my heart was aching to get it off my chest.

  “I like you a lot, Lukas.” Shit. There it is. “More than I know what to do with,” I admitted with a laugh that was both bitter and sheepish. “And honestly, I’m disturbed by the fact that I’ve had the most success in my career while seeing you because it proves my last three years wrong. It means I don’t have to be only work or only play – I can have it all if I want to. I could’ve been doing that this whole time but now that I’ve had you, I don’t think I want anyone else and it sucks because you’re clearly not interested beyond a certain point,” I said, losing my breath. “You roped me in, you chased me and you got me basically hooked on you. But you’re keeping me at a distance because while I’m sure you like me, you like me best for one thing, and that’s sex.”

  “That’s not true,” Lukas said without missing a beat.

  “No?” I crossed my arms. “Prove it.”

  His stare challenged mine. “Come away with me tomorrow. I’ll tell you everything you want to know and I won’t fuck you unless you tell me to.”

  My eyes fluttered in surprise. “You’re going away, too? Where?”

  “I don’t know yet. I just need to get out.”

  “Because of the anniversary?”

  Lukas stared. “How do you know about that?”

  I dropped my eyes. “Julian.”

  Lukas took a second to process that. “Fuckin’ prick,” he muttered.

  I swallowed the knot in my throat. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No. Why would I be mad at you?” Lukas asked genuinely. I paused and chewed on my lip.

  “I can think of a reason.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  I slipped my hands in the back pocket of my shorts, taking a moment to answer. “I’ve been planning on seeing Ritchie. I lied about what he texted me for. He’s selling the house and he wants me to pick up some stuff.”

  Lukas shook his head. “Really? Is this his way of asking you to pack and clean up for him? Because I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “No, he says there’s a box for me. From Gail. He said I should come get it and I kind of want to,” I said quietly. “He’s going to have a couple of old friends over and trust me, I’m not hoping to be buddies with them anymore, I’m just… so happy these days that I feel like I owe it to myself to try to tie up loose ends up there. There’s nothing I’d love more than to close up that chapter of my life on a positive note,” I said truthfully, trying not to let Lukas’s look of disapproval get to me. “Combined with the fact that I haven’t seen my dad in a long time and… well, basically I’m going. Tomorrow. I can’t do it any other day, I won’t have the time.”

  Quiet, Lukas folded his arms. “I’ll go with you,” he said, prompting my eyebrows to lift high.

  “You want to come with me to shitty little Warren, New York?”

  “Yes. I need to be away from the city, anyway, and I don’t want you to see Ritchie alone. I don’t trust him.”

  He sounded pissed but I couldn’t help the little smile twitching the corners of my mouth. “You being protective of me?”

  “I’ve been.”

  I sucked on my bottom lip. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Because it’s a small town full of very curious people and more than likely, Ritchie’s going to have a couple friends at his house. They’re probably going to ask questions about you and that’s going to be before we get to my dad and uncle’s family. They’re going to ask if you’re my boyfriend and a bunch of other stupid, uncomfortable questions that’ll make you want to run for the hills.”

  Lukas cracked a smile. “I’d love to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

  “Yeah?” I laughed, somehow delighted and hurt at the same time. I was happy Lukas wanted to come with me. That he didn’t mind meeting my family. But I was quickly realizing that I didn’t share his contentment to just pretend.

  I wanted to try the real thing.

  I didn’t want to keep wondering what we were doing and how long my heart could take it. I wanted to hear him call me “baby” outside of sex. It was a complete one-eighty from my original position on the matter but apparently, people could change that fast.

  Damn it, Lia. A million thoughts and wants swirled through my brain as I stood in the living room, watching Lukas move around the kitchen, undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, reaching for something in the fridge. He was just winding down from a long day and somehow, he was the picture of the home life I never knew and didn’t realize I wanted till now.

  “Lukas?” my lips blurted before I could stop them.

  “Yeah?” he turned around.

  I paused when I saw him set two wine glasses on the table, pouring unevenly and coming over to give me the bigger one. His shirt was fully unbuttoned, giving me a preview of that chest, those abs that I couldn’t get enough of. With a little toast, we touched our glasses, eyeing each other as we took the first sip. Then I found myself watching again, transfixed by the sight of Lukas simply setting his drink on the table, sitting down on the couch and rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Can I give you a massage?” I asked, smiling at the twitch of surprise in his brow. He looked up at me with bright eyes.

  “I actually can’t think of anything I need more right now than a massage from you.”

  I smiled at the word “need.” God, I was so easy.

  And just like that, I forgot the original thought I had on my tongue. Wedging my body between Lukas and the back of the couch, I pressed the heels of my palms up his hard back till I could knead his strong shoulders, his neck. Each low rumble I drew out from his chest was like a little trophy to me. I loved hearing the sound. It was deep, sexy and intimate. I could listen to it all night.

  Wrapping my legs around his waist, I kept massaging him, grinning and giggling as he rubbed my feet in his lap. God, did he have any idea what he was doing to me? What kind of sweet, intimate, couple-relaxing-at-home fantasies he was putt
ing in my head?

  I was half-ready to ask him, “Why do you do this? Treat me like a stranger sometimes then play house with me like we’re married? Why?” But I refrained, obviously. I wanted to try a relationship with Lukas but for now, especially for my first trip back home since leaving, I was grateful to at least play make-believe.

  In fact, I was slowly getting excited.

  A part of me couldn’t wait to show him off.

  22

  LUKAS

  Lia’s original plan had been to take a three-hour Greyhound. I opted to drive despite the fact that I didn’t own a car. I’d bought an Audi at twenty-five, right when Hendricks-Cameron made it big, but after realizing I never used it, I sold the thing. Now, on the rare occasions that I felt like driving, I rented. Of course, my idea of renting involved no exchange of money. All I did was pop by Julian’s garage on Eleventh Avenue, where he kept a portion of his ridiculous collection of cars and motorcycles.

  “This is… actually insane,” Lia said as we walked up a row of shiny cars ranging from vintage Fords to Ferraris, Corvettes and Cadillacs. Julian had them all.

  “Trust me, I agree it’s crazy,” I laughed. “But I also sold him this space, so I’m not going to complain.”

  Lia’s eyes glittered at me. “What was the commission on that? Can I ask?” When I told her, she choked. “That’s wild. These cars live on better real estate than I ever will in my life,” she murmured, shaking her head. “God, who are your friends, Lukas? What is your life? I hope you’re prepared for the fact that the people you’re about to meet today in Warren are… nothing like this.”

  “I’m prepared. Just to remind you, I grew up much more like you. Not Julian.”

  She shot a smart look. “Just to remind me? You can’t remind me of something you never told me about.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “You are going to get talkin’ today, right?”

  I smirked. “Yes. Just let me get the damned car first.”

  We rode out in a black Range Rover and thankfully traffic wasn’t a complete nightmare. By the time we were riding through the Lincoln Tunnel, Lia was finally done admiring every inch of the car. With a little smile, she turned her attention to me.

  “This is fun,” she said. I laughed.

  “Already?”

  “Yeah. It’s like a road trip. I’ve never taken one before and I’ve always wanted to,” she said, pushing her Ray Bans to the top of her head. I glanced at her and grinned. She looked like summer in a plain white T-shirt tucked into a little tan skirt that flared out. I didn’t know shit about women’s fashion but I was pretty sure Lia was the definition of simple but elegant.

  “Why don’t you take a road trip then?” I asked her.

  “Because I never got my driver’s license.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. I got a learner’s permit but once my mom died, I kind of lost motivation to do anything for awhile,” she said, looking out the window. “And that included getting my license, I guess. I just kind of... existed for a year or so after. I had moments where I was laughing and having genuine fun but for a long time, I wasn’t really there. It was like a part of me died with my mom and I was trying to get to know myself again for awhile after.”

  Her words twisted something inside me. “I can understand that. I went through something similar.”

  “With your parents?”

  “No. They’re both alive,” I said, controlling my urge to add “unfortunately” to the end of that sentence.

  “Where are they?”

  “Miami.”

  “Is that where you’re from?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am. But now that I think about it, Tess does always wear a swimsuit under all her clothes during summer.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, we were total water babies. We’d go swimming pretty much every day. Walk forty-five minutes to Hollywood Beach and then take the bus back because we were too tired to walk. The bus driver started bringing snacks in case he saw us. Plantain chips sometimes, but Dunkaroos mostly. That was the shit.”

  “Lukas Hendricks eating Dunkaroos. I can hardly imagine it.”

  I grinned. “Well, imagine it. I loved that shit. Dunkaroos, Gushers, Capri Suns. Whole bunch of stuff I can’t find anymore.”

  “Well maybe you’re not looking hard enough. I can find you Capri Suns easy.”

  “Yeah?” I turned to catch the sass on Lia’s face. Only she could make smug look so good. “Well, do it then. We can make a day of it. We’ll drink Capri Sun, have Lunchables for dinner and watch Jumanji and Space Jam.”

  “And Matilda.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You don’t know Matilda? Wow. I feel sorry for you.”

  I snorted. “Jesus Christ, take it easy. We’ll watch Matilda.”

  “Good. Though I have a hard time believing Tess never watched Matilda growing up. Every nineties girl was obsessed with both the book and the movie.”

  “Well, she had the misfortune of having me as a big brother, and I basically dictated all our TV viewing.”

  “Rude. Didn’t your parents intervene?”

  “They were never home.”

  Lia paused. “Oh. Were they… workaholics?” she asked hopefully.

  “Alcoholics.”

  She hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s alright. Tess didn’t even know anything was wrong growing up. It was just our normal,” I said as we got onto the I-95.

  “Tess didn’t know but you knew?”

  “I was four years older, so yeah. I knew my friends weren’t waiting up till four, five in the morning for their parents to come home. My best friends parents’ slept in beds at night. I woke up to find mine passed out on the couch with their shoes on.”

  Even from my peripherals, I could see the sadness on Lia’s face as she studied me. “They just went straight from work to bars or something?”

  “Yep. They both worked at the same country club. My mom was a server and my dad was in the kitchen. Both their shifts started at two-thirty in the afternoon so as far as I knew, they woke up around two, got to work, went out with friends after their shift and kept the party going wherever it went for the night.”

  “They were always like that? From the beginning?”

  I nodded but then frowned. “Well, for as long as I can remember, my dad was always red-faced and bleary-eyed and smelling like booze. I was close to my mom for awhile, maybe till kindergarten. But she was too in love with my dad to be left out of his life and his life was all drinking and partying. So it was almost like she picked up the addiction to stay close to him.”

  “Jesus,” Lia breathed out, frowning into her lap. “That’s horrible.”

  “It was alright. Tess and I were pretty used to our routine. We liked going straight to the beach from school and seeing our bus driver on the way home.”

  “‘Our’ bus driver,” Lia teased, making me chuckle.

  “Yeah. He was our bus driver. We actually got possessive if other people on the bus tried to talk to him. He was ours.”

  Lia tipped her head back and laughed. “That’s so cute. I like to imagine that he was an old man who looked like Santa.”

  I squinted as I pictured his face again. “He was too skinny to be Santa but he was definitely old. Referred to himself as grandpa and abuelo and treated us like grandkids with all the presents he showered on us. In that sense, he was definitely our own personal Santa.”

  “He sounds awesome. I’m glad you had him considering…”

  I smirked at her trail-off. “Considering my parents were deadbeats?”

  “Yes.” Lia glanced at me for a second before gazing out the window. “Something tells me you and Tess were the cutest kids ever so I can’t imagine not wanting to watch you grow up. Then again, I’ve never met a baby I didn’t think was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Really?” I teased. “There are some objectiv
ely weird-looking babies out there.”

  “You’re right, there are. And I still love them. My favorites are the babies with big ears they haven’t grown into yet.”

  “Shit, then you would’ve loved Wyatt,” I grinned, though my voice faltered midsentence.

  Huh. I stared out at the road, surprised at myself for bringing him up on my own. I rarely said his name aloud anymore. If I did, it was only with Tess, on the rare nights that we found ourselves able to reminisce without falling into a depression.

  Gripping the wheel, I felt my heartbeat pick up. But it slowed again when Lia took my hand. I looked at her, expecting her to ask for the story behind him but she simply met my eyes and said nothing for several minutes. All she did was stroke my hand softly, eventually turning back out the window, conveying that there was no rush for me to speak. I squeezed her hand to let her know I appreciated it.

  Staring out into the road, I let her gently rub my palm for another mile or so, soothing me enough so that when I finally spoke again, saying his name didn’t hurt or feel like a shock.

  “Wyatt was our little surprise. I think I was eleven when my mom got pregnant with him,” I said, remembering the fighting between my parents before they sent Tess and me to spend Christmas at Uncle James’ house. It took years for me to realize what they were fighting about. My mom wanted to keep him, my dad didn’t. “Tess and I stayed over our neighbor’s house when my mom went into labor and we were both losing it we were so excited. We were talking about taking the baby to the beach with us, teaching him how to surf and swim. We had all these ideas of who we wanted this kid to be and when we finally met him, we forgot it all because he was pretty fucking great as is. Big ol’ ears, big ol’ smile just for me and Tess when we finally saw him.”

  I ran my hand over the grin that spread my lips as I thought about the first moment I saw Wyatt. He had not a damned hair on his bald head but he had green eyes like me, Tess and Mom. I was twelve and even then I knew there was something special about him. He never cried. In the mornings, I’d wake up to find him already sitting up in his crib. He didn’t make a peep till he saw me though, and when he did, he smiled, bounced on his fat baby ass and held his arms out to be picked up. Tess and I found it hilarious. We loved waking up early, sneaking up on his crib and then surprising him so he’d squeal with delight. You had to surprise him to get him to make any noise. Otherwise, he was a quietly happy baby.