To my horror, a not-so-subtle rumble came from somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach. Cheeks warm, I ignored the sound and gave Amalie an apologetic smile.
“I’d love some coffee, though.” God, that was weak. Damn my traitor appetite.
Thankfully, Amalie made no comment as she poured us each a cup and then settled back with a sigh. “So then, what is on your mind? Forgive me for saying so, but you appear upset.” Her pale-green eyes, so uncomfortably similar to Lucian’s, studied me. “Has something happened?”
“I—”
“Mamie,” came a familiar deep voice from the hall. “I’m going to the store—”
Lucian strode into the room and halted upon seeing me, his words cutting off to dead silence. Pinned to the spot by his blank-faced stare, I could only look back, my heart fluttering in agitated beats. It was unfair how beautiful this man was to me. Not perfect, not flawless, but beautiful just the same.
Now I knew what he felt like against my skin, in my mouth. I knew the expression he made when he came, knew the sounds—those deep agonized groans of pleasure—he uttered. And he knew the same of me. He’d reduced me to a panting, needy mess solely with his mouth and hands.
The knowledge hung between us like smoke, thick and choking. We’d never do any of that again. It was over before it really began.
As if the exact thought filtered through his mind, Lucian’s gaze deepened with what looked like regret—or perhaps an apology. Or maybe it was what I wanted to see. I didn’t know anymore.
He swallowed thickly, his throat working; then he blinked, as if to pull himself out of a haze. “Hello.”
There was no misunderstanding who he was talking to.
My lips felt numb and clumsy as I answered. “Hello.”
Lovely. We’d been reduced to this.
He grunted, shifting his weight, a man deciding whether it was better to stay or flee the scene. He gutted it out, setting his hands low on his hips. “You didn’t eat your breakfast.”
My gaze narrowed, annoyance flaring through me. “No, I didn’t.”
Like hell I would give him an excuse. But I was far too aware of Amalie sitting next to me. And I sent Lucian a quick glare. How dare he rat me out in front of Amalie. He returned my look with one of sheer stubbornness, as though he could somehow will me to eat his food. Too bad. Those days were over.
He blinked again, and I had the strangest feeling that he was absorbing a blow. But then his expression turned to stone, and his attention went to his grandmother. “I got your note about wines. Do you need those for today?”
Amalie, who had remained thoughtfully quiet during our exchange, became animated once more. “Yes, my dearest. If you would be so kind.” I had no idea what they were talking about, nor did I care. I wasn’t going to go poking around in their lives anymore. “Tina has been asking to go out. Perhaps you could take her along?”
Lucian glanced at me, and that brief bit of attention lit over my skin. But he didn’t linger. He focused on Amalie, the only outward sign that I was in the room betrayed by the hard line of his jaw. I’d become as much of an annoyance to him as he was to me.
“I’ll take her.” Again, he glanced at me, as though he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. Not to me. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, then.”
He hesitated, hovering at the threshold of the room, broad shoulders stiff. And an acute sense of sadness slapped me. For a brief time, I’d set eyes on this man, and it had made me feel alive to know I could tease him, that he’d give as good as he got. That I could ease the darkness in his eyes.
Now, he simply let his gaze skim over me, impersonal, withdrawn. “Emma.”
“Lucian.” It came out so stilted that I cringed inside. But I kept my expression neutral. Polite, even. And it sucked.
We exchanged the most awkward of nods, and he left, taking all the life out of the room. This was why I had to go. And this was why he had been right; it would have been worse if we’d gone further. I should thank him for that.
But I still couldn’t bring myself to. Not yet.
Amalie waited a minute, perhaps to be sure Lucian was well out of hearing, before turning my way. I braced for her questions, but she simply sipped her coffee. “So then, what are your plans for the day?”
I sagged into the corner of the couch. “I’ve rented a car to drive into LA.”
Her perfectly penciled black brows arched. “All the way to LA?”
“Yes. I need to start house hunting. I thought I’d take a look at some of the properties. Maybe spend the weekend there.” I would rather check into a hotel for a few nights than know Lucian was nearby.
“Hmm.” She sipped her coffee.
Oh, she was onto me. I refused to fidget.
“The sooner I’m settled into a new place, the sooner I can get out of your hair.”
Amalie set her cup down with a gentle click. “My dear, you are not ‘in my hair,’ but one should never hide away from the important things in life. Getting your house in order is a wonderful idea.”
It was a clear sign that I was a mess that I found myself oddly disappointed by her quick agreement. Disappointed and uncomfortable. She hadn’t missed how awkward Lucian and I were in each other’s presence. It was awful to think she might have thought I hurt him and wanted me to get as far away from her grandson as possible.
I stood on legs that weren’t as steady as I’d like. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
On impulse, I leaned down and kissed her soft cheek, which smelled of Chanel N°5. “Thank you for everything, Amalie.”
She petted my arm. “Ah, my dear girl, thank you for coming here. Do what you must. And we’ll see you soon.”
I made it all the way to the doors that led to the terrace, when her next words stopped me. “Just remember, it doesn’t matter how far you go; you’ll always be where your heart is.”
The words hit like darts, and I closed my eyes briefly, my back to her. My heart was in my chest. Right where it belonged, damn it. I would repeat that until I believed it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lucian
“You’ve stopped blinking,” Brommy said, cutting into my thoughts. “And it’s creepy.”
We sat on loungers, drinking beers by the pool as the sun set. At some point, I’d stopped listening to Brommy’s rambling conversation and, apparently, stopped blinking.
I turned my gaze from the water and cut him a glare. “Yeah, well, it’s creepy that you’ve been looking at me long enough to tell.”
He snorted, then took a pull of his beer. “Dude, I’ve been talking for ten minutes without a real response from you. At one point, I even asked if you preferred waxing to shaving.”
I paused in the act of taking a drink. “Did I answer?”
“You grunted.” He huffed and set his beer down on the flagstones. “What’s up, Ozzy? You’re in a worse mood than ever. No, scratch that. You’re in a void. A weird-ass void, and it’s freaking me out.”
It was the real worry he tried and failed to hide that had me answering instead of grunting again. “I’m just off today.”
Off. That was a nice way of putting it. Off. Not decimated.