Our eyes held for a moment more before he slowly let me slide down to the floor.
“Who wants cheesecake?” Mom asked, and the moment was broken.
Maybe this was a terrible idea after all.
I tossed and turned in my bed. Sleep would not come and all I could think about was the way Lucas looked at me when I’d climbed him like a tree. I hadn’t even thought about what I was doing, I just did it and then realization set in. When our eyes met…phew…was it hot in here?
I kicked the blankets off and reached for my iPad. If I couldn’t sleep, then maybe I could read…or not. After trying unsuccessfully to read, I gave up. There are only so many times I can read a page and not understand it before I’m waving the white flag of surrender.
I tossed the iPad aside and slumped back on my pillow. I was being an idiot. Lucas and I had been friends for a really long time. Why was I suddenly looking at him with hearts in my eyes? I knew in my heart of hearts that nothing would ever come of it, and torturing myself with images of the two of us growing old together was not helpful in the slightest.
I rolled out of bed and crossed my room to the dresser. I took the ring out of my jewelry box and slid it on my finger, holding my hand out to admire the way it sparkled. It was a beautiful ring and also absolutely not the kind of ring I would choose for my own engagement ring. It didn’t stop me from admiring it, though.
Nothing had changed between Lucas and me, but it felt like everything had. I was just doing him a favor and in return I got to interview the king of a small country. No biggie.
Except it was big. Huge, in fact. And it would absolutely change our relationship. Lucas would move to a new country. I know he said it would only be a for a few months, but I knew in my bones that once he got a taste of life outside of his parents' influence, he would bloom and he would never want to come back.
I would come back. This engagement was fake and somewhere along the line my head and my heart had disconnected. My head knew the truth while my heart was making heart eyes and mooning after my best friend.
Mom had been right after all.
I slowly slid the ring off my finger and put it back in my jewelry box, feeling bereft as I did so. The ring was ridiculous, really. Way too big for it to be practical and there was no way I could wear it to work at the bar. I’d probably even get carpal tunnel syndrome or whatever from hefting the massive diamond around everywhere.
Still…
I liked the way it looked on my finger.
I liked the way it felt on my finger.
I did not grow up dreaming about the big white wedding with a million guests and a multi-story wedding cake that could feed an entire city block. I didn’t make scrapbooks about my ideal wedding or cut out pictures of wedding gowns and bridesmaids' dresses and flower arrangements. I didn’t even think about the whole getting married part. I thought that maybe one day I would meet someone and eventually have a family, but I was more focused on working hard and playing hard. I was in no rush to settle down; there was far too much to see and do and experience to get tied down.
Not that I didn’t respect other people who got married, especially those like my parents who made it work and made it look, if not easy, then at least achievable. I wanted a life partner; I just thought I’d be further along in my career before it happened.
Not that it was happening now, no matter how much my heart tried to convince me it was.
This entire thing with Lucas was fake, and I had to keep reminding myself of that. It was too easy to get swept away by the romance of it all, to let my little crush bloom into a full-blown fantasy. Lucas was a great guy, but he and I both knew that we were too different to make something romantic between us work, even if my body had lit up like a Christmas tree when I jumped into his arms earlier tonight.
I slapped myself on the forehead. What had I been thinking?
I hadn’t been, was the simple answer. I would have done the same thing even if there was no fake engagement between us.
So why did it feel so different tonight?
That was the conundrum. This new awareness of Lucas would be a problem, and maybe it would be better if we called the entire thing off.
My gut clenched at the thought. I’d be letting Lucas down if I chickened out. He needed this, probably more than even he realized. If I pulled out, he would lose his chance to discover a life without the expectations of his parents hanging around his neck like a millstone. And despite this weird emotional attachment I was currently experiencing, I did love him. He was my best friend and I would literally do anything for him…okay, maybe not literally, but he was my ride or die and I wanted this for him. I could keep my feelings to myself for a couple of weeks—okay, maybe months, but that’s still weeks…just a few more weeks—so he could have a chance at breathing new air and maybe discovering something new about himself.
I flopped back on my bed and rolled onto my side, staring at the picture of Lucas and me that sat in a frame on my bedside. I would make this great for him because he deserved a chance to live his life without the anxiety that came with the expectations of his parents. I had no doubt in my mind that Lucas would thrive in Kalopsia and I wanted to give him that. More than anything, I wanted him to be happy and I would do whatever was in my power to give him that.
Chapter 7
Francesca
With my head down and my headphones in, I pushed through the crowd waiting in front of Drinks. I had no clue why there were so many people waiting to go in. We were a popular spot for after work drinks, but not so popular that people waited down the street to get in.
Someone blocked my way, and someone bumped into me from behind. I looked up and tugged my headphones out only to hear a chorus of voices calling my name.
“Francesca! Over here, Francesca!”
I looked toward the voice and was blinded by a flash for my trouble.
“What the hell?” I yelled as I held my arm up over my eyes. “You need to get out of the way and let me through.”
“Tell us how it feels to be engaged to a prince!” Someone else yelled.
“He’s not a prince,” I growled, trying to push through the crowd which seemed to have thickened considerably. “You need to get your facts right. What kind of journalist are you if you can’t even get that detail correct?”
“When’s the wedding, Francesca?” Another voice called.
“Move out of the way! Why would I tell you vultures when my wedding is? And my name’s Frankie,” I yelled as I forced my way to the front door of the bar.
“Frankie! Frankie!”
Thankfully, the door opened, and I was grabbed by the elbow and dragged into the bar. The door closed behind me, shutting out the shouted questions and cries of my name.
“What’s going on?” I asked Sean, one of the security guys and the person who’d saved me from the mob outside.
“I thought you’d know more about it than me,” he said with a shrug. “They showed up about an hour ago asking for you and have been waiting for you ever since.”
“Damn,” I muttered.
I’d turned off all the social media notifications on my phone because Maya’s constant posting about Lucas and me had been getting on my nerves. It had been a week since that first stupid video and now it looked like Lucas’ mother’s efforts to get it noticed by the media had paid off.