It’s breakfast. Not a date. Last night wasn’t a date either. I’m not dating. I need to be working on me and figuring my life out, not dating three months after calling off my wedding.
No matter how many times I tell myself it’s not a date, only breakfast, I’m still on outfit three of the morning. I crashed early last night after ending my impromptu video chat with Lucas. Luke. Yeah, I can’t do it. He’s always been Lucas. My Lucas. Well, not always. There were those years he was off living his life and I was living mine.
Since I’m working from home today, I’ll have time to run a few errands after Lucas drops me at my car. By errands, I mean an hour at the nail salon getting a pedicure while I finish my current book, or books. I’m on a binge of a series written by four authors. I’m obsessed, which is no surprise because I’m a huge book nerd, but these books have me not only questioning my morals but why I don’t have more batteries for Sven.
Since I’ll be getting a pedicure after breakfast, I toss the jeans I’m considering aside and pull on my favorite cut-off shorts and grab a plaid shirt from my closet. Sliding my feet into my favorite bright pink low-top sneakers, I snatch up my flip-flops from the floor for later. As I walk in the kitchen, there’s a knock at the door. Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I make my way to the door and open it to a very delicious looking Lucas.
Zing.
Zang.
Electricity.
It.
“Morning,” he purrs. Okay, so it isn’t really a purr but more of a standard greeting but in my lady bits it’s a purr. The kitty is purring, that’s for sure. “You okay, Whit? You have a weird look on your face.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Ready? I’m starving. I could go for a stack or two of pancakes.”
Laughing, Lucas steps aside to let me close and lock the door before descending the stairs to his truck. Before I can reach for the door handle, he’s opening it, motioning for me to get in. Hopping up into the passenger seat, I settle in as he closes the door and jogs around the front to the driver’s side.
Nerves prickle my skin as he turns the key in the ignition. This feels like a date. Who am I kidding, it’s basically a date. I’m about to say something when one of my favorite bands fills the cab.
“Oh sorry, I was listening to that a little loud,” he says, reaching for the dial. I stop him, and turn the dial up as Lightning Strikes pumps through the speakers.
“I love this band. They’re my favorite,” I shout above the drum solo.
“Really? Have you ever seen them in concert?” he asks as he drives out of the complex.
Instead of responding, I unbutton my shirt and turn in my seat showing him my tank top. “Three times.”
“Nice. I’ve only seen them once, but it was epic. The lead singer is a beast on stage.”
“Kade Evans. He’s amazing is what you mean. And hot as fuck.” My declaration must take him by surprise because Lucas laughs the rest of the way to breakfast.
The diner is essentially deserted when we ask for a booth. A mother and her small children are in the large corner booth while two men sit at the counter. Other than that, it’s just us as the waitress seats us and says she’ll return with coffee and water.
Since I already know what I’m having, I take my phone from my purse to look up the Lightning Strikes tour schedule. When the waitress returns, I smile as she fills my cup then turn my attention back to my phone.
“You kids ready to order?” she asks.
“I am, you Whit?”
“Short stack with a side of bacon, please.”
“I’ll have the veggie omelet, egg whites only, and fruit for the side, please.”
Lucas takes a sip of his coffee and catches my eye. I’m confused because he ordered fruit and not bacon or sausage. “Fruit?” I question.
“Yeah, you do recall what my job is, right? I have to stay in shape, and my gym time is limited due to my school schedule. That means, my diet has to be on point. Plus, I’m working tonight, and I can’t be bloated.”
“Oh,” I reply. Suddenly the idea of eating doesn’t sound as exciting. I didn’t necessarily forget what he does for a living, but I think I put it so far in the back of my mind, it didn’t occur to me that was why he was eating healthy. Dancing. Lucas will be dancing for women tonight. He’ll be inches from them while taking off his clothes, simulating sex to some and fulfilling fantasies for others.
“Don’t feel bad for me, I do enjoy my bacon, just not on work days. How about you, no work today?”
I tell Lucas about my plans for the day, but the joy and giddiness I had when he picked me up is gone. In its place is the reality of who he is and who I am. He’s a male stripper, and I’m a girl who recently got out of a relationship. Any romantic tendencies I had floated away along with hoping I was ready for something more. I can’t do it. Maybe someone else can, but there is no way I’ll be okay with my boyfriend dancing.
“Where’d you go, Whit?”
Opening my mouth to respond, I pause when our food is placed in front of us. We both thank the waitress and I contemplate my response while Lucas lightly peppers his omelet. I know Lucas; he isn’t going to let me get away with a blasé answer, so honesty is my best option.
“I was just thinking about your job and how many women must leave there feeling like their fantasy just came true. You guys are so fantastic at what you do. I didn’t want to be on that stage, but I’ll admit after I let go and accepted it was happening, I felt pretty great afterward.”
“It can be a wonderful experience for most of the women. Empowering for some. Of course, there are the few who don’t take no for an answer and try to cop a feel or two, but for the most part, it’s harmless. Men have been going to clubs for decades; it’s nice to see the tables turn a little.”
“Jonah told me Carmen is okay with it. Are many of the other guys in relationships?” I ask, taking a bite of my pancakes.
“A few. Some have been in the relationships longer than they’ve been dancing, which helps.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve dated but nothing serious. I guess you can say, the one I always wanted got away from me long ago.”
My heart skips. Does he mean me? He can’t possibly. By the look in his eye, he might. I don’t respond. Instead, I continue eating my pancakes and change the subject to the world tour of our favorite band. His dancing and dating life isn’t something I’m prepared to discuss this morning. Baby steps.
After we finish breakfast, and I manage to sneak the payment to our waitress to avoid him paying, we walk out to his truck. The comfortable silence is back as he drives me to my car. Comfortable. That’s what I am with Lucas. Comfortable and relaxed. Sure, he has my feelings jumbled and my heart conflicted, but I’m me in my truest form with him.
When he parks in the space next to my little sedan, I quickly open the door and hop out. Clicking my fob, the lock is activated before he can get out of the truck.
“Why are you running off?” he asks as he steps behind me.
“You have to get to class, and I have things to do. Thanks for the ride. Breakfast was great. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I say quickly while opening the driver’s door. A large hand lands on top of it, stopping me from opening it farther.
“Nope,” he says while turning me to face him. Looking straight at his chest, I don’t say anything.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
I feel like such a fool. I’m bothered by a job my friend is doing to put himself through medical school. My friend. He’s not my boyfriend. Hell, we only kissed once.
Twice.
Before I can react, his lips are on mine, and my hands are tangled in the hem of his T-shirt. Lucas’s hand wraps around my waist, drawing me closer as his tongue dives in my mouth. This isn’t the slow tentative kiss we shared in Portland. This is spontaneous and urgent. His left hand releases the door and grips the side of my face, fingers tangled in my hair as I press my back to the door. The coolness of the window is a welcome relief as my body heats from his hands on me. Melting into him, I match him stroke for stroke. A low growl rumbles through his throat and I suck it in, taking everything he gives me and demanding more.
Lucas DeCosta may be planning to become a doctor, but he could be a kissing instructor and be just as successful. Except, the idea of him kissing anyone else sends a chill up my spine and I pull back. Eyes dazed and lips swollen, I see him with nothing but fire and desire in his eyes.
“Thanks for breakfast,” he says before planting a quick peck on my lips and jogging back to his running truck and driving off, leaving me standing at my car, turned on and thoroughly confused.