Lucas’s fist hurt from pounding.

He stood outside on Alaina’s doorstep, his knuckles raw and his emotions out of control. Blaine had called him ten minutes earlier, had given him a brief run-down of what had happened at Alaina’s. Lucas had just left the high school and was heading to Lulu’s for a cup of much-needed coffee when he whipped a U-turn in the middle of the road and raced to Alaina’s instead.

The boarded-up window was the first thing he saw when he pulled to the curb. His heart jumped into his throat at the sight of it. Who the hell had thrown a smoke grenade through Alaina’s window? And why?

But those weren’t the only questions racing through his brain.

He knocked harder. He was ready to kick the door in if she didn’t answer soon.

“Alaina!” he yelled. “Open up!”

No, the question that superseded all else, the question that was literally tearing him apart, was simple: why hadn’t she called him?

The door opened a crack and he pushed it wide. Alaina stood there, a look of shock on her face at his forcefulness.

He was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry,” he said as the color drained from her face.

It was just after eight o’clock and she was in pajamas, her hair mussed from sleep. She wore no makeup, and the dark circles under her eyes became more pronounced as she paled.

She was still beautiful. Hauntingly so.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, feeling like an ass for pounding so hard and then shoving the door open. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her any more distress. She’d already been through enough. More than enough.

She took a couple of breaths, and he could see her chest rising and falling under the thin fabric of her shirt. “It’s alright.”

His eyes devoured her, raking over every inch of her, trying to make sure she was all in one piece. Before he could stop himself, he reached for her, pulling her in for a swift hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispered before releasing her.

Alaina looked at him, an unreadable expression on her face. “I’m…I’m fine.”

She took a step back and he strode into the house, his head swiveling every which way, taking everything in. The interior smelled like smoke, but there was no lingering haze. This made sense, considering the window had been busted open.

“What happened?” He moved through the room, inspecting every inch of space, his anger over what he saw, what had been done to her, growing by the second.

“Why are you here?”

He turned to look at her. “What do you mean, why am I here? I’m here because someone threw a fucking smoke grenade through your window.”

She swallowed, and guilt twisted his insides. He knew he shouldn’t be taking out his anger and frustration with the situation on her. None of this was her fault.

“No, I mean, why did you come?” she asked. “How did you find out?”

His jaw tightened. “Blaine told me.”

Alaina folded her arms across her chest. “I told him I didn’t need anyone to come over.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“He asked if I wanted someone to come and I told him no.”

She looked irritated, but it was no match for how Lucas was feeling.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked.

“Why would I?”

He gaped at her.

“Besides, I didn’t call anyone,” she said matter-of-factly. “Your buddy and his partner were out on patrol. They saw the window and stopped.”

“Alaina, you should’ve called me. As soon as it happened.”

Her brow puckered. “Why? You’re not the police, Lucas. What could you have done?”

Her words were like a punch to the stomach. He didn’t need for her to remind him of this. He lived with that knowledge every single day. He swallowed, trying to keep those ugly emotions from bubbling to the surface.

It was a mistake. He should’ve let those through. Because newer ones—stronger ones—erupted inside of him.

“You should’ve called me because…” He stopped. He wanted to tell her what he was feeling: the intense fear he’d felt when Blaine had told him what happened, the overwhelming relief when he’d seen with his own eyes that she was okay. The ache to protect her, to keep her safe. He wanted to be the one she called, the one she turned to, whenever she needed help.

He took a deep breath. “Because I care about you.”

She blinked a couple of times, and he didn’t know if his words took her by surprise or if she was simply trying to process them.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She sat down on the small couch and he followed suit.

He didn’t ask. He probably should’ve, but he didn’t. His arm wrapped around her and he drew her close. She collapsed against him. She didn’t make a sound, and he was relieved that she hadn’t burst into tears. He didn’t think he could bear to hear her cry. Not now, not with everything that had happened.

He held her for a minute, letting the silence settle between them. He waited, his fingers gently caressing her back, and listened as her breathing slowly evened out. His heart relaxed with hers, comforted by the fact that she was safe in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head.

She pulled away and looked at him, her eyes on his. “I should’ve called you. I…I wanted to.”

His heart leapt at her admission.

She swallowed. “And I shouldn’t have said the things I said.” She reached out a hand, her finger gently tracing the scar above his eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”

He touched his nose to hers. “Apology accepted.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled, and it was as if he could feel the tension evaporate from her. She adjusted against him, nestling her body close.

Lucas drew in a long breath, savoring the moment before breaking it with news Alaina would want to hear.

“So I found something,” he said quietly. His head was leaned against hers, and she was burrowed in beside him. He didn’t know if now was the right time to bring up what he’d found on Noah’s phone and the conversation with Lindsay that had followed, but he didn’t want to keep anything from her.

She pulled away. “Yeah?”

He nodded.

“On…on his phone?”

Another nod.

She swallowed.

“Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t have to tell you,” he said quickly. “If you’d rather not know. I can do this on my own.”

“No.” Her voice was firm. “I…I want to know. I need to be involved with this.”

He understood. It was that desire of hers that was so like his.

“There was a message on his phone.”

“A message?” she repeated. A frown creased her forehead. “But I thought the text messages were wiped clean.”

“They were. This was on Instagram.” He told her what he found.

Her eyes widened as he went on to tell her about his brief talk with Lindsay. He thought he saw them go glassy, as if she were on the verge of tears, but she blinked a couple of times and took a steadying breath, somehow managing to stay dry-eyed.

“What did she say?” Alaina asked when Lucas was done. “About who hurt her?”

“She didn’t say anything,” Lucas said. “Jack and his buddies showed up and pretty much killed the conversation.”

“Why would they do that?” Alaina’s eyes narrowed. “Are they friends or something?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “I’m sure it was just his way to show off in front of his buddies, to save some face after our little talk in the gym last week.”

She was quiet for a minute. “How do you think this relates to Noah? To…what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas admitted. “I don’t know that it does, to be honest. But I wanted to tell you. I don’t want to keep things from you.”

“Why?”

“Because this is important to you,” he said simply. And then, before he could stop himself, he added, “And because you’re important to me.”

Her eyes widened. “I am?”

He nodded. He didn’t trust himself or the situation to say more. Not yet.

He felt a small smile form on his lips, and his next words were an attempt to lighten the mood, to draw attention away from what he’d just said. “And because two heads are better than one.”

Her brow wrinkled. “What?”

“Look, I’m having just as much trouble as you figuring out what the hell is going on,” he told her. “We know something happened to Lindsay, and we know your brother was someone she’d confided in. Beyond that, it’s anyone’s guess.”

She looked at him. “So you’re saying you need my help? To solve all of this?”

“Maybe.”

“Like, as a partner?”

His heart swelled.

A partner. His partner.

Yes. He wanted that.

Very much.

But it wasn’t just her words that had his heart singing; it was the shift in her demeanor, too. She was actually teasing him. Despite everything she’d been through, despite the harrowing events she’d lived through just that morning, she was bantering with him.

And he loved it.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “Like a partner.”