“So, are you going to talk to me again?” Lucas asks as he loads our dirty plates into the dishwasher.

“The pizza was good,” I say, putting the leftovers of the homemade Margherita pizza into the fridge so we can eat them later. “The wine, too.” I carry my glass of white wine to the couch and settle into the spacious living room.

“I told you I was going to make something delicious for you.” Lucas drops down beside me, his own glass in hand.

“How was your date yesterday?” I finally ask the question that has been on my mind since I stepped into the penthouse two hours ago—I might have forgotten to mention that Lucas Jackson’s parents are extremely wealthy, thanks to their successful business and family background. I found that out four years ago, when he took me back to his university dorm, and we ended up having a one-night stand.

“It was a waste of time,” he scoffs.

“Why?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Mily. I spent the entire night feeling guilty,” he confesses, his blue eyes fixed on mine.

“That serves you right,” I tease, laughing, secretly relieved to know that he still cares despite his stupid choices.

“You can laugh all you want, but just so you know, you owe me a date.”

“I don’t owe you anything, Lucas. You’re the one who stood me up, remember? I threw a full-blown tantrum in the middle of the restaurant, and I’d be shocked if I’m ever welcome there again,” I snap, narrowing my eyes at the man who’s far too handsome for his own good.

“Who’s the guy you were with at the café?” 

“Andrew Keegan.”

“Who’s Andrew Keegan?” Lucas frowns.

“The guy I was with at the café,” I smirk.

“Mily…” My name sounds like a warning, a very unfairly attractive one. 

How does Lucas do that? How does he manage to be sexy all the damn time?

“Andrew is someone I’ve known since I was twelve. He’s from Lancaster too,” I explain, hoping to shut this conversation down before he grills me with more questions.

“Wait a second.” Lucas glares at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Is he the guy who dated Charlie? The one you were hung up on?”

“I wasn’t hung up on him,” I mutter, heat creeping into my cheeks.

“So that’s the guy who messed you up for good,” he comments, ignoring my groan of protest. “No offense, but he’s not exactly easy on the eyes.” He laughs.

I wish I could say he’s one to talk, but Lucas is the most attractive man I’ve ever met, and that alone stops me from mocking him. 

“What is he doing here in New York City?” he presses. “Do you still like him?”

“No, I don’t like him anymore,” I declare instantly, shaking my head a little too hard. Great. Everything is spinning now.

“You’re lying,” he shoots back, skepticism written all over his face.

“Andrew owns AK Café, and he’s living at Monte Home, which is a coincidence—and also a direct gateway to my personal hell.” I joke about my misery because it’s the truth, as Andrew represents exactly that.

“That is a coincidence,” Lucas agrees, draining his drink and setting the empty glass on the coffee table. “How was your date with him?”

“It wasn’t a real date, but it was fun,” I admit, a fond smile forming on my lips.

“Did he kiss you?”

“Why would he kiss me?” I frown, taking the last sip of my drink before placing my glass next to Lucas’. “Speaking of which, that jerk stole my favorite mug.”

“What mug?” He wraps his strong arms around my waist and pulls me close. 

Without thinking, I rest my head against his chest, as we’re used to being like this, and snuggling comes naturally to us. We act like a couple wherever we are, even though there are no kisses and nothing more.

“The mug I stole from his café,” I reply, absently brushing my hand over his stomach under his T-shirt.

“You stole the mug from the ugly guy’s café, yet you think he stole it from you?” Lucas chuckles, amused. “I’m officially confused right now.”

“Thank you for saving me from his family, by the way.” Memories of that obnoxious morning rush back, reminding me how rude I was to the Keegans, and how Andrew probably won’t speak to me again because of that.

“Oh, that explains why you looked so relieved when I showed up at the café. I thought it was because you love me and can’t live without me,” he jokes, slapping his own backside.

I stare at him in silence before bursting into laughter. I can’t believe him. What was that?

“Oh my gosh, how did you figure it out?” I tease between laughter and tears. Sometimes, I honestly wonder why we’re friends, as we’re complete opposites.

Suddenly serious, he says, “You know, I thought about you a lot last night. My date was busy getting drunk, and I kept wondering what would have happened if we had worked out four years ago.” He pauses. “What do you think?”

I shrug. I don’t let myself wander down that path or think about what might have been if love had chosen me back then.

“Where did we go wrong?” he wonders. “Why didn’t we work out?”

I lift my head from his chest and stare at him in disbelief—the same face that haunted my nightmares for an entire year. Is he serious?

“What?” He smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Are you actually asking me that?” I keep staring at him, trying to figure out if he’s messing with me or if he genuinely doesn’t know how badly he hurt me. 

“Yes, I am?” He blinks a couple of times, looking both amused and confused. “Why are you staring at me like I’m the dumbest person in the world?”

His response convinces me it has to be the second option—he truly doesn’t know how he broke my heart.

I sigh. “Lucas, we slept together in your dorm, and the very next day, you lied so you could meet another girl. You told me you were traveling with your family, but I ran into you on a date instead, and when I confronted you, you didn’t even bother explaining. You treated me like I was disposable… And that’s why we never worked out.”

“Ouch,” he whines, cringing as he looks away, clearly ashamed. “I’m sorry, Mily.”

“You should be, but whatever. That’s in the past,” I state, letting him know I’m not dwelling on the past anymore. Honestly, I should probably thank him for being such a mess back then, because after he broke my heart for good, I gave up on love altogether. He was the last person I ever fell for. Somehow, we still became close friends, and that’s what truly matters to me now.

“Maybe we could try again, you know…” He trails off, his intense gaze knocking the air out of my lungs. 

“Try what again?” I ask innocently, refusing to take the bait.

“Maybe I could take you out on a real date and see where it goes,” he says, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Is that a joke?” I laugh, my voice pitching a little too high.

“Nope,” he declares, the confident smile on his face and the heat in his blue eyes sending my thoughts spinning in directions I haven’t allowed myself to go in a long time.

Nope. Absolutely not.

“Anyway, I should go home,” I announce, jumping up from the couch and grabbing my bag.

Lucas taps his fancy wristwatch. “But it’s only four in the afternoon, Mily.”

“I need to work on my new book,” I lie—Love and Shit has officially become my go-to excuse whenever I need to escape an uncomfortable situation, and thankfully, it always works.

He sighs and stands up, looking defeated. “Fine. I’ll take you back to your apartment.”

“Actually, could you drop me off at our favorite restaurant? I need to get my car because I left it there last night,” I say, suddenly remembering where it still is.

“How come?” He frowns.

“I had a little too much to drink,” I mumble, already bracing myself for the scolding, as he hates it when I overdo it.

“Why?” he asks, irritation creeping into his tone as he grabs his keys and a jacket. Then he heads for the door, with me following close behind.

“Because my body absorbed too much wine,” I joke as we walk toward the elevator.

“That’s a very creative way of saying you drank too much on purpose,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes and pulling me into a hug.

* * *

“So, when will you be available to go out on a date with me?” Lucas goes straight to the point as soon as he parks in front of our favorite restaurant.

“We can have dinner on Friday night if you want,” I suggest. “But I need to be clear that it won’t be a date because I don’t date anymore.”

“You need to stop with that whole ‘I don’t believe in love anymore’ nonsense and get back into the dating game, Mily,” he remarks.

“I guess you have yourself to thank for my lack of faith in love, Lucas,” I snap, irritated. “Because you’re the one who broke me and shoved me straight into that mess with your lies.” I get out of the car before he can stop me.

“Emily,” he calls after me, but I’m already heading toward my car—only to freeze when I spot two tickets tucked under the windshield. Tsk. Perfect.

“Emily.”

My name sounds again, this time from a different voice—the one person I really don’t want to deal with right now.

“What?” I snap, spinning around to face Andrew, his eyes growing wide at my glare and the sharpness in my voice. “What do you want now?”

“Why are you so angry?” he asks, taking a cautious step back.

“Do I need a reason?” I yank the tickets from under the windshield and shove them into my purse. “What are you even doing here?”

He points toward a black car parked nearby, which I assume is his.

“Okay. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go home and work on my stupid book.” I open the driver’s door and move to get in.

“Emily, why do you keep running away from me?” Andrew grabs my elbow, stopping me.

“Why do you keep bothering me?” I shoot back, even though I don’t fully understand why my anger feels so overwhelming. Is it because Lucas asked me out? Or because Andrew keeps showing up everywhere? Why does my past insist on dragging itself back into my life?

“I’m not trying to bother you,” he sighs, “please. Let’s just go back to the café and talk.”

“Leave me alone, Andrew.” I try to pull free, but he doesn’t let go.

“Please, Emi,” he begs quietly, exasperation flickering in his eyes.

“No,” I bark, finally wrenching myself free and turning back toward my car. But before I can get inside, he spins me around in one swift movement, and suddenly he’s kissing me, catching me completely off guard.

* * *