Put Me Back Together(14)

Nope, just one.

In my lap I began twisting my fingers, an anxious and painful habit I’d developed during the trial. I would twist my digits until the skin puffed red and the bones cracked, gripping so hard it felt as though my fingers would actually break. My hands would throb for nearly an hour afterwards as I went over in my head everything the prosecutors had said, and every look the Wesleys had given me, and every lie I’d told. Especially the lies.

I released my fingers and jerked my head up, startling the worried look right off of Lucas’s face.

“Why’d you quit basketball?” I blurted out, which was a pretty rude question to ask out of the clear blue, I realized, but I wasn’t too concerned about it. Anything to change the subject. Besides, Lucas was as unflappable as ever, as he cocked his head to the side slightly, considering his answer.

“Sometimes things have to end,” he said.

Now that was a bullshit answer if I’d ever heard one.

I said, “Yesterday when that guy asked you to come to the game, you lied to him.”

Lucas raised his chin at me. “How do you know I was lying?” he asked.

“It’s a talent of mine,” I answered. “But I’m right, aren’t I? You aren’t going to any game.”

His glance slipped to the window again and for the first time I suspected I’d made him uncomfortable.

That was the downside of evasive maneuvers. Sometimes in trying to deflect attention you ended up drawing unwanted attention somewhere else. For someone who’d spent her life hoping nobody would find out her secrets, I sure loved ferreting out other people’s. It was a sick habit.

“Sports are overrated, anyway,” I announced as I got to my feet and started gathering my things.

Lucas chuckled, shaking his head. “Where do you think you’re going?” he said. “There are still a few bites left here.” He taunted me by spearing a bite and eating it himself, smearing chocolate sauce across his bottom lip. As he wiped it away with a napkin I had to stop myself from leaning forward and capturing the last drop he’d missed with my finger, or better yet, my lips.

Dear God, did I just think that?

I was still staring at Lucas’s lips and as I glanced up at his eyes I realized he was staring right back at me.

“I think that’s enough questions for today, Mr. Inquisitor,” I said briskly. “Besides, I have class in twenty minutes.”

“I feel like I’ve been gypped,” he said sadly as he followed me out the door. “You used me for my baked goods and gave me nothing in return.”

If he thought that was nothing, he clearly hadn’t been paying attention. I’d told him a novel-length saga compared to what I normally shared with people, which was nothing.

“You’ll recover,” I said. “I’m sure some blonde beauty in your next class will be more than happy to fill you in on every detail of her life.”

“Yeah, well, Blondie doesn’t hold my interest,” he said, walking backwards in front of me. “Too much gum popping.”


He stopped in his tracks all of a sudden, causing me to plow right into him. “Besides,” he said into my hair, “I’ve always been partial to dark-haired beauties.”

His hands were at my waist, gripping my jacket at the hips, and somehow I’d looped one of my arms over his. Our feet were tangled together and I could feel his warm breath tickling my ear, his chest pressing against mine, almost as though we were embracing. For a brief moment I felt faint.

“Lucas,” I said, and he looked down at me, his lips tantalizingly close to mine. Resisting the urge to reach up and touch them with my own suddenly became an epic battle.

What the hell was happening to me?

I said, “You’re going to make me late.”

“God, I hope so,” he said.

I smacked him playfully on the shoulder and stepped away, filling my air with lungs as though I’d been holding my breath for an hour.

But Lucas wasn’t quite done with me.

“Give me your number, Katie Archer,” he said, holding his phone out to me.

It might have sounded like a command, but the expression on his face was hopeful, as though he thought I might say no, which wasn’t too far off. I held my arm tightly at my side, eyeing his phone doubtfully. Give him my number? I never gave out my number. In fact, I was always forgetting my own number for just that reason. Nobody had it except Emily, my parents, Mariella—she’d finagled it out of me on the same day she’d insisted we exchange keys, in case of emergency—and an aggressive girl named Lara I’d sort of been friends with for a few weeks first semester. She’d never called me.

Giving out my number to a guy was something I did not do. It broke every one of my rules. It was the sort of thing Emily did, the sort of thing normal girls did. I didn’t want to start pretending I was a girl like that, a girl guys called on the phone and invited over, a girl who deserved that kind of attention. I didn’t want to give him my number and be heartbroken when he never used it.

This wasn’t wise. This wasn’t safe. This wasn’t the Katie Archer I knew.

But then again, the Katie Archer I knew would never have been asked for her number by a guy like Lucas.

I’m pretty sure I imagined Lucas’s sigh of relief as I finally took the phone from his hand and typed in my name and number, but I know I didn’t imagine the gigantic grin that covered his face as I handed it back.