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Chelsea never wanted to wake up. Or more specifically, she never wanted to get out of bed. They hadn’t done much sleeping at all after getting back to Lucas’s small rental. And that was perfectly fine with Chelsea. More than fine.

She’d just had the best night of her life. And it wasn’t just the sex, although that was pretty amazing, too.

Just being with Lucas—cuddling, kissing, talking about their dreams and goals for the future—was perfect. Never in her life had she felt close enough to someone to share such intimate things. But with Lucas, all of that just felt right. So perfectly right.

She stretched her arms over her head, and made one last-ditch effort in pulling the blankets up and over to block out the sunlight coming in the window. Every muscle in her body ached in the most delicious way. They’d made love throughout the night, never growing tired of each other.

Between sessions, they’d talked and at one point Lucas had made them a snack. She must’ve drifted off in his arms, because she didn’t really remember falling asleep. She hadn’t wanted to sleep. Because maybe if she fell asleep, she’d wake up and none of it would have been real.

She peered out from under the blanket and looked at his face. He was awake and smiling at her.

It was real.

Happiness and love flooded her senses one more time.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Lucas reached out to stroke her cheek, wiping a stray hair off of her skin.

There was no way she looked beautiful. She hadn’t really slept, and her makeup was probably smeared all over her face. But she didn’t care. Lucas had a way of making her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, just by looking at her.

“Good morning.” She lifted the quilt up just enough for him to shimmy closer. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. Just the way he had done most of the night. Chelsea never wanted him to let go. After all this time, everything finally felt right between them. She didn’t want that to end. Not ever.

He must have read her thoughts, because he leaned forward and kissed her on the nose. “Don’t think too much. We don’t need to have all the answers right away.”

“But we should probably have some of the answers.” She laughed a little and kissed him again.

“Okay. How about we start with an easy question.” Lucas shifted so he sat up a little bit and peered down at her. “What can I get you for breakfast?”

Chelsea smiled wide and answered with competence. “That’s an easy one. Because I am craving eggs.”

“Eggs?” Lucas nodded thoughtfully. “I think I can handle that. But first…”

She laughed and pretended to push him away. “I don’t think I can go again. I need fuel.”

He pulled her close again, turning her so her back was pressed up against his hard chest. His hand stroked casually down her arm and he kissed the back of her neck. “First, we need this,” he told her. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this first morning with you. Just like this. Wrapped up in my bed, holding you, talking about the future.”

“The future breakfast?” she teased.

“If that’s as much as you want to look forward right now, I’ll take it. For now.”

At one point in the night, they’d spoken of the future in an abstract kind of way. Various goals and dreams they had. For Chelsea, those dreams were mostly still new, although some were long-ago dreams from her childhood that she only vaguely remembered. Now, with Lucas, suddenly anything seemed possible.

But that wasn’t the type of future he was talking about and they both knew it. “No,” she said after a moment. “I’ll talk about more than breakfast with you.”

“Like later tonight?”

“And tomorrow.”

“And what about the day after that?” he asked. “And then the week and the month? I want to be with you, Chelsea, and that’s the craziest thing for me to say, because never in my life did I ever think I’d be saying those types of things to someone. Ever. But with you…”

“I want to be with you, too.” She leaned back into him, pressing every piece of herself that she could against his body. “And I think that’s all we need to know right now, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He kissed the back of her head.

They stayed that way for another few minutes until Chelsea’s stomach protested. Loudly.

Lucas laughed and rolled away from her. “I’m going to make you some eggs. Scrambled okay?”

She rolled onto her back and propped herself up with the pillows. “Perfect.”

“Coffee?”

“You’re the man of my dreams.” She said it laughingly, but there was enough truth in it that Lucas’s eyes flashed.

“Baby, your dreams are only just starting to come true.” He leaned down and kissed her on the lips before he tugged on a pair of jeans. “Did you want to grab a shower? Or stay cuddled up a little longer?”

“I’m quite happy right here.” She wiggled into the comfy bed a little and smiled. “Besides, someone has to keep it warm for when you come back.”

“Truth.” Lucas winked at her and was about to leave the room when she got an idea.

“Hey.” She stopped him. “Do you have a notebook? Or maybe a pad of paper or something?”

He turned and grinned. “Do you want to write?”

She nodded, excitement filling her. She did want to write. More than anything. She couldn’t be sure whether it was just spending the night with Lucas and having the best sex she’d had in a really long time, or just being with him, or maybe…just being happy and content. Whatever it was, something was inspiring her and the urge to jot down some ideas and put pen to paper was fierce. “I really do.”

“Then I’ll find you something. Wait here.”

He was back a moment later with a brand-new coil notebook, a pen, and a stack of pillows from the couch that she could use to create a writing surface.

While Lucas kept himself busy in the kitchen, she let the creativity flow and did it ever. Soon, she had pages and pages filled in her new notebook. Somewhere, without her noticing, Lucas had brought her a coffee, which sat—somewhat cooled—on the bedside table next to her.

She put the notebook down and stretched her arms over her head. Chelsea had no idea how long she’d been sitting there writing, but it felt good. Really good. In fact, everything felt good. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. So honest-to-God, fully and completely happy. Had she ever been happy like that before? The thought stopped her. Because she really didn’t know the answer. What she did know was she’d never felt the way she was feeling at that moment. It was all very new. Absolutely wonderful. Her stomach growled. She was still hungry. That much she did know for sure.

Reluctantly, she crawled out of bed and pulled one of Lucas’s T-shirts over her head. The only thing she had to wear was her costume from the night before. So his shirt would have to do. Chelsea was just about to leave the room in search of Lucas and for breakfast when she heard the doorbell ring.

She froze. She couldn’t go out in the living room wearing only a T-shirt, so she waited as she heard Lucas go answer the door.

“Hey,” she heard Lucas say. “Scott. What are you doing here?”

Scott? What the hell?

Just remembering the look on Scott’s face the night before, when she had broken his heart, hurt her all over again. She really did care about him, and none of it went down the way she’d wanted it to. She needed to remember that she might be happy with the way things turned out, but there was at least one person who wasn’t.

Chelsea held her breath and listened.

“Sorry to bother you. I just had to… I just needed to apologize,” she heard Scott say.

He sounded sad. And tired. She had to see.

Chelsea crept to the door of the bedroom as quietly as she could and peered around it into the small living room. When she saw Scott, her heart ached. He looked as if he hadn’t slept. Although he was no longer wearing his Halloween costume, he looked as if he may have slept in his clothes.

“You have nothing to apologize for, man,” Lucas said. “There’s nothing—”

“No.” He cut Lucas off. “I need to say this. I’ve been an ass. None of this had to go down the way it did. I’m not mad at you for suspecting me for everything that’s been going on at your site. I know now you didn’t call Rhys because of Chelsea; you called because of the surveillance video.”

Lucas nodded. “Man, I hesitated calling Rhys because of your friendship with Chelsea. Not the other way around. I may not have liked what was going on with everything on a personal level,” Lucas continued. “But the vandalism at the site…those two things had nothing to do with one another. That’s the truth.”

“Yeah, I get that. And despite what I might think of you, you really don’t seem like the type of a guy to be vindictive when it comes to life. I’m sorry about the sandwiches. That was shitty. But that’s not why I’m here. This isn’t easy for me. But I need to—”

The door Chelsea was leaning against shifted, causing it to squeak open and reveal her to the men in the living room. Two sets of eyes landed on her, but it was only Scott’s face she focused on. Because once again she registered the same shock and hurt that she’d seen the night before.

---

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Chelsea.

Of course she was at Lucas’s house.

Fuck.

He should have known.

Scott dropped his head to his feet and swallowed hard. She was the last person he wanted to see, but dammit, he should have known.

She’d rejected him. For Lucas.

Of course.

His stomach pitched and he wanted to throw up. Or punch something. Or both.

Instead, he took a breath and then another and looked up. He focused on Chelsea’s eyes because he couldn’t look at the fact that she was wearing nothing more than Lucas’s T-shirt and what exactly that meant.

“Chelsea.”

“Hi, Scott.” She blushed and tugged at the T-shirt.

Dammit. The T-shirt.

At least she had the decency to be embarrassed by the situation. But he couldn’t be upset with her. He couldn’t be anything. He’d spent the entire night feeling sorry for himself. At least, when he sobered up enough to feel anything at all.

Of course he was upset and hurt that Chelsea had rejected him. He loved her. At least he thought he did.

But was it really love? He didn’t know and it wasn’t the time to think about it. He hadn’t woken up wanting to deal with any of that and he certainly hadn’t started his day with the idea that he was going to have to not only see Chelsea but have to talk to her. Especially not at Lucas’s house.

“I didn’t expect to—it doesn’t matter.” He shook his head and looked back to Lucas. “Anyway.” He took another breath. “I wanted to tell you what I remember. About the hats.”

Lucas nodded. “Right. You said last night that you only gave out a handful of those hats.” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his bare chest.

Would it kill the man to put on a shirt? The combination of both Lucas and Chelsea half-naked was not helping his urge to punch something.

“I did.” Scott forced himself to focus on the task. “To the high school baseball team.”

“The baseball team?”

“All twenty of them. Well, including the coaches.” He’d had the hats made up as part of a sponsorship for the team when Mitch McCormick approached him about helping out. He was just getting set up in the school as a new teacher himself, and it seemed like a good fit. Of course Scott was happy to help. But now it seemed as if one of the team was responsible for the vandalism and with a heavy heart, he told Lucas as much.

“So the vandal is a kid?”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Chelsea piped up.

“But at least it narrows the field,” Lucas said. “That’s good. Well, not good, but…”

“We know what you mean.” Chelsea had crossed the floor and stood by Lucas. She put a hand on his shoulder, and it was too much.

“So, I hope that helps.” He turned to leave. He’d seen more than enough of the new happy couple. “I should get to the café.”

“Thank you,” Lucas said behind him. “I really appreciate it, Scott. Especially after…well, thank you.”

He nodded, but didn’t turn around until Chelsea spoke up. “Scott?” Her voice was soft and sweet and he couldn’t help but turn. “Can I talk to you? Just for a minute?”

He wanted to say no. More than anything, he wanted to get out of there and back to the security and safety of the kitchen in his café, where he didn’t have to see Chelsea and Lucas together or deal with the fact that she didn’t love him. His heart couldn’t handle another second of being in the same room with the two of them.

He nodded. “Of course.”

Chelsea gave Lucas a look that he obviously understood because he squeezed her hand and said, “I’m just going to grab a shower. Thanks again, Scott.”

The fact that they already had their own unspoken way of communicating made Scott’s stomach roil again. He’d wanted that with her. It should have been him.

As soon as Lucas left the room, Chelsea gestured to the couch. “Will you sit? Just for a minute?”

He took a few steps inside and sat. She pulled the throw blanket off the back of a chair and mercifully wrapped herself in it before she sat next to him.

She was so close, he wanted to reach out and touch her. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d thought he would spend the rest of his life with her. He’d been so sure she was the one, but the whole time she was in love with someone else. He almost laughed at how stupid he’d been. As if he’d been caught in a terrible reality television show where everyone knew the truth but him.

“Scott, I’m so sorry about…well…about everything.”

He nodded, not knowing what to say.

“I need you to know that…” She reached for him then drew her hand back quickly, sticking it under the blanket. “I do care for you. Very much.”

The truth was in her words and in her voice. He could feel it. Besides, he knew Chelsea wasn’t a cold-hearted person. Of course she cared for him.

Just not enough.

“Really, Scott. I do.”

“I know you do.” He gave her a weak smile. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had to offer. “It’s just…I don’t really know how to handle this, Chels. I really like you and…well, I more than like you and—”

“I really like you, too, Scott. And please, I wasn’t trying to lead you on. I really wasn’t. It was never my intention to hurt you. It breaks my heart that I might have hurt you. I really…”

He reached out then and put his hand on her arm. He pushed down the urge to pull her into his arms. She wasn’t his to do that anymore. Maybe she never had been. The thought made him sad but he didn’t pull away. “I know,” he said. “I don’t think you’re that kind of person.” He shook his head and smiled. This time, it felt a little more real. “It just wasn’t right between us.” It hurt him to say that, but it also rang true.

Maybe he wanted things with Chelsea to be more right than they ever really were.

“When you told me about wanting to write…” he said. “How come you never told me that?”

She nodded and blushed a little. “I didn’t really tell anyone, except…” Her gaze drifted to the door, where Lucas had disappeared.

“Lucas,” he finished for her.

She nodded.

“I think it’s starting to make sense now.” And it did, even though it hurt to admit it. If Chelsea could confide all of her dreams to Lucas and not him, for whatever reason, then Lucas was the man for her. Not him. “I didn’t even ask you about your dreams.” The realization hit him hard. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Her smile was sweet. “I cherish you as a friend, Scott. I really do. And I know you’re going to find someone who loves you exactly the way you deserve to be loved.” She slipped her hand out of the blanket and squeezed his. “I really do believe that.”

He nodded, but wasn’t ready to admit that she might be right. He wasn’t there yet. It was still too new.

“Thanks, Chelsea.” He pulled his hand away and stood, stuffing it into his back pocket. “I should be going. I really only came by to tell Lucas what I knew.”

She moved to stand, but there was no way he could handle seeing her wearing only a T-shirt again. He was only human. “Don’t get up.” Scott gestured to her to stay put. “I’ve got to get going. Lots to do at the café and—well…this is actually kind of awkward.”

She laughed, but nodded her agreement. “I’m glad you came by, though.”

“Yeah.” Unsure of what else to say, Scott nodded and left out the front door.

It wasn’t until he was walking down the street, toward the café and away from Chelsea and everything he thought he’d have, that he realized, he, too, was glad. Seeing her that way, in Lucas’s house had been hard, but he’d survived it. Just as he’d survive the rest of the day, and the next, and the one after that. Life would go on.

It would be okay.