How (Not) to Fall in Love(56)

“Almost?” I tried to look threatening, which just made him grin.

“Stubborn works for you,” he said, pausing to drink from his soda. “It’s how you get what you want. Setting up the estate sale, getting more time to move.” He muted the TV, turning to face me on the couch. “You don’t need a fairy godmother.” He ran a hand through his hair, a frown furrowing his forehead. “Sometimes I wonder if you need anybody. You’re like a one-woman tornado, knocking down everything that gets in your way.”

Whoa. I flinched as if he’d slapped me. He made me sound like a freak.

His frown deepened as he took in my reaction. “Darcy. What’d I say?” He leaned forward, reaching a hand toward me, but I brushed it away, turning so he couldn’t see my face.

Damn it. What the hell was going on? He was sending me all kinds of mixed signals. Sort of flirting but sort of not. Trying to compliment me but making it sound like an insult.

“Shit,” he whispered. He powered off the TV. “Darcy. Look at me.”

I shook my head.

“Please.”

Slowly, I turned toward him. Everything about him screamed maximum frustration. I closed my eyes, hating what I saw. I wanted to see so much more from him.

“What do you want from me, Lucas?” I asked, keeping my eyes closed.

He was quiet so long that I opened my eyes. His gaze was scorching. So was this angry Lucas? Or was that heat in his eyes something else?

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his voice so low it made me shiver. “What do you want from me, Darcy?”

I heard Sal’s voice in my mind. “It’s not a date. But it’s something.”

There were so many ways this could blow up in my face. I was pretty sure telling him I wanted him to whisk me away in a carriage was the wrong answer. Telling him I wanted him to kiss me? To see me as more than a babysitter? That was the honest answer, but one I’d never admit.

I took a long, deep breath, thinking about how he’d said I didn’t need anyone.

“It’s not true, what you said about me not needing anyone,” I said, keeping my eyes on his. “I do need people.”

He waited, still as stone.

“I need…my dad.”

He flinched, and I saw pity flash in his eyes, but he stayed silent as I went on. “And I need my mom. My uncle. Liz. My friend Sal.”

We stared at each other, both of us waiting for me to say it. But I was so afraid. Confronting the Harvest board of directors had been child’s play compared to this.

Then he said it for me. “And me? Do you need me?”

I couldn’t look at him, because I knew I couldn’t hide what I felt for him. I might as well have it tattooed on my face. I tucked my hands under my thighs, digging my nails into the denim of my jeans.

“What I feel for you is…” I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I wasn’t ready.

I thought of how he’d looked at me that first day we’d walked Toby together, of what I thought I’d seen in his eyes. How I’d been sure he’d wanted to kiss me, then wondered if I’d imagined it. How he’d said I could call him at three a.m., and he’d come running.

“Complicated,” I finally said, still not looking at him. “My feelings for you are…confused. You’re such a…a great friend.”

“Friend,” he repeated, his voice sounding grim.

I finally looked up. His jaw was clenched, his eyes slits. He turned away from me, reaching for the remote, but I put out a hand to stop him. As my hand rested on his, he shifted his body to face me again and I saw it.

All of it.

Everything I wanted to see. What I thought I’d never see from him. For me.

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Oh,” he echoed, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “Still confused?”

It was all there, waiting for me. All I had to do was claim it.

Claim him.

Or was it? The possibility I was imagining this was overwhelming, terrifying. I jumped up from the couch, hurrying toward the closet where he’d stashed my coat. I tore it off the hanger and tugged it on, then grabbed my messenger bag.

He stood up, crossing the small living room in just a few quick strides, just like a duke on a mission.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He sounded like a demanding duke, too.

“H-home,” I stammered. Because I’m a coward. Because I can’t handle what’s happening here. Or not happening. Whatever. I had to escape.

“It’s not safe,” he said, trying to block me as I moved toward the front door. “Let me drive you.”

I pulled the keys from my bag. “Let me go, Lucas. I’ll be fine.”

He stared down at me so intensely I half expected him to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder. But then something shifted. His shoulders dropped and he stepped back. “If this is what you want. To leave.”

We stared at each other. We both knew he was talking about more than me driving home by myself. I swallowed and reached for the doorknob. “Good night, Lucas.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes. “At least text me when you get home.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Please.”

“You said I’m a one-woman tornado. I’m sure I’ll make it there in one piece.”