Conflicted

by Missy Johnson

  “About Lucas,” she guesses.

  “Lucas?” I repeat, confused. What does he have to do with anything?

  Ariel’s eyes widen, and then she waves her hand. “You know—how weird he’s been acting lately. Like even weirder than usual.”

  “Yeah, exactly,” I murmur. I don’t tell her about Lucas walking out on me at Chino’s, because she’d want to know why. I leave it at that, because I’m not ready to tell her about Aaron.

  “You sure that’s all it is?” she asks, eyeing me strangely. “With you and Lucas, I mean?”

  “Ariel, how many times are you going to ask me that?” I say. I roll my eyes and lean my head against the wall behind me. “Lucas and I have known each other forever. We’re best friends. That’s all. Why is it so difficult for people to get that?” I’m so fed up with people—“people” being Ariel—asking about Lucas and I when there is nothing going on. Especially since my unrequited love attempt all those years ago.

  “Sure, sure,” Ariel groans, making a face. She leans forward and presses her forehead against mine, and hugs me, which makes me laugh.

  I squirm away as she attempts to mess up my hair.

  “I just care about you, Lace, and want to make sure you’re okay.” Her glass-blue eyes pierce straight through me, but I don’t know what to tell her.

  “Honestly I’m fine, I guess I’m just tired. This internship is heavy going, with all the reading.”

  It’s an excuse that I know she will accept without a second thought, but in reality I’m just annoyed there wasn’t an email in my inbox this morning from Aaron. She keeps my gaze for a few more seconds and then gives me a kiss before grabbing my arm and walking back towards the cashier.

  As we leave the shop with my new skirt safely in her possession, she suggests we go back to the food court for a bite to eat. I agree, knowing that there will soon be a handful of random guys around our table to keep her attention off my problems. Besides, it’s always fun to watch her get guys wrapped around her finger.

  I have known Ariel for the last six years, and those six years have been a rollercoaster ride. Her feistiness and the fact that she speaks before she thinks are things I love about her. We balance each other. I tame her down and she brings me out of my shell.

  We sit at an empty table, and she disappears in search of food while I man her shopping.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. My heart pounds as I reach for it, hoping that it’s him. I nearly faint when I see his name on a new text. I open it quickly, eager to see what he has to say.

  Aaron: It’s a shame I never saw you last night. I was hoping I could’ve bought you a drink.

  My cheeks turn a dark shade of red as I shift in my seat. How can someone have this effect of me when I’m not in their actual presence? I reach behind my neck and wipe a layer of sweat off. I begin to type my response in as cool a tone as possible. The last thing I want is for him to think I like him…even if I do.

  Me: Sorry, I had to leave. Something came up. Did you have a good night?

  Straight away I get a response, which makes me giddy. Shit, he’s on his phone right now, waiting for my responses. The thought gives me a buzz I haven’t felt for a long time. Excitement rushes through me, but don’t want to get ahead of myself. Could he actually be interested in me? Stop it, Lacey. You’re his intern and you’re twenty years younger than he is. But all that does is thrill me even more. There is something sexy about a forbidden relationship.

  Aaron: It was okay. It would’ve been better with nicer company.

  My mouth drops open slightly and I just stare at his message. Surely he doesn’t mean me. I am trying to think of a witty response when Ariel sits down at the table with a tray full of food and coffee. I shut my phone and slide it back in my pocket.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Lace. Who was that text from? You sexting randoms again?” she asks, laughing at her own joke.

  “No, just a text from Aaron about the case we are working on,” I say, knowing that I’m probably blushing.

  “Aaron?” she repeats, a smile on her face. “We’re calling him Aaron now, are we?”

  I groan, knowing she’s just getting started. “He told me to call him that,” I retort, trying to sound more pissed off than I actually am. “Stop trying to read into things, Ari.”

  “Pfft, I think it’s great you want to bone your boss. God knows you need it.”

  “Ariel,” I growl, my face red. I turn around, embarrassed, making sure that nobody is listening in on our conversation. Thankfully, nobody is listening.

  Her attention soon shifts to a guy sitting at the next table, so I’m able to get back to trying to dissect Aaron’s latest text. He’s definitely flirting with me, but I can’t work out whether he’s just teasing me or not. Would I actually reciprocate if he made a move? Do I want him to? I shiver, because honestly I don’t know.

  We spend the next few hours shopping, and though I’m exhausted by the time I get home, it was just what I needed. Turning off my mind, even just for a few hours, has made a big difference.

  I arrive at work early the next day and spend fifteen minutes standing in front of the mirrors in the ground floor bathrooms before I suck it up and go upstairs. I don’t know why I’m so damn embarrassed. We exchanged a few emails. There was nothing dirty or suggestive about them—only in my mind.

  Maybe that’s the point: I’m embarrassed because I’m reading way more into our relationship than I should be. Lucas is right. I’m going to end up hurt because I can’t let this crush go.

  I’m alone when I get into the elevator. I press floor two and wait for the doors to close. In my mind I’m going over what I’m going to say when I get to work. I need something to break the awkwardness I’m feeling. Again, it’s all in my head, but if I don’t find a way to work through it, I know I’m going to say something stupid.

  Just as the doors close, they slide open again. I look up and see Aaron standing there. He smirks as he stands next to me. My heart races as I smile coolly. I glance at myself in the mirror, wishing I’d taken more care with my appearance this morning.

  “Morning,” I offer. I run my hand through my hair and breathe out. Why is it so damn hot in here all of a sudden?

  “Good morning. Recovered after your big weekend?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. The way he looks at me makes my stomach twist. I find myself wondering how those lips would feel pressed up against mine. I blush, my eyes darting to the floor.

  “Yes, thanks. Sorry I didn’t respond to your last email. I didn’t get it until the next morning,” I mumble. I try to think of something witty and cute to add, but come up empty.

  “No dramas. It’s a pretty nice little place, huh? Though I didn’t think much of the bands they had on. I’m not much of a punk fan.”

  “Me either,” I mumble, colour rushing to my cheeks. He knows. Oh God he knows and I’m making a fool of myself. I force myself to breathe and meet his gaze even though the knowing twinkle in his eye is making me sick.

  “You okay?” he asks, amused. “You look a little flushed.”

  “Okay, you caught me,” I growl, throwing my hands up. I can’t take the pressure any longer. “I wasn’t there. I was at home in bed and I lied because I didn’t want you thinking I was a loser. I guess the joke’s on me, huh?”

  “You want to know a secret?” he asks as the doors open up onto our floor.

  “What?” I say, my heart racing.

  He leans in close until our lips are almost touching, his eyes not leaving mine. I swallow, the feel of his warm breath on my face driving me crazy as his lips part into a grin.

  “I wasn’t there either.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lucas

  Lacey: Sorry I have to cancel our plans. Working late.

  Again? I sigh and tap out a short reply. I’ve barely seen her all week because she keeps piking out on our plans. And now it’s Friday night, and I have two tickets for a concert tonight to see a band I’ve been w
aiting ages to see live. I haven’t seen her since I left her in Chino’s, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s avoiding me. Not that I can blame her, after the way I acted. I picture her and Aaron together and hurl a glass across the room. It bounces off the wall and rolls along the carpet, not breaking. Jesus. I can’t even get that right.

  “Fuck,” I growl. I wish I didn’t let him get to me so damn much.

  After checking that Harry isn’t available, and Ariel telling me she’d rather bathe in fish guts than see Imperial, I text Eva.

  Me: Any chance you’d take me up on a free ticket to see Imperial tonight?

  Eva: Sure. Sounds like fun. What time?

  Me: I’ll pick you up at seven.

  She texts me her address, which happens to be just around the corner from me. My annoyance at Lacey fades a little as I get ready. The fact that she’s flaking on me for work doesn’t bother me as much as the fact that I know it means she’s working late with him. Really, how much work can you expect an intern to do? She’s always fucking there. She has to have topped fifty hours this week. Is that even legal?

  Yeah, I’m much less annoyed now.

  Eva climbs into my car and buckles up her seatbelt. She looks great, in a short black dress that shows off her long legs. Her blond hair is brushed back at the sides. She turns to me, a smile on her face.

  “Thanks for inviting me. I’ve been wanting to see this band since I was back in London,” she says. “Your friend couldn’t make it?”

  Had I told her about Lacey? I don’t remember having that conversation with her. My suspicions are soon thwarted when she adds: “Assuming you got two tickets with the intention of going with someone.”

  “Yeah, she had to work.”

  “Ah.” Eva smiles, as if I just explained everything. “Is this the same girl that had you drowning your sorrows in the bar?”

  I glance sideways at her. What’s with the interrogation? I’m already regretting asking her out. This was a bad idea—not that I can do much about it now. I just have to suck it up and try and enjoy my night.

  “So, you lived in London?” I muse. If she notices my attempt to redirect the conversation, she doesn’t say it. “Where are you from?”

  “Sweden,” she says, her green eyes sparkling. “I’ve been all over, though. I studied at a university in London and lived there for five years.” Five years? How old is she? I glance at her again. “You look concerned?” she says, as if it’s a question.

  “I’m just…” I shake my head. “How rude would it be to ask how old you are?”

  She laughs. “I don’t think that’s rude at all. How old do you think I am?”

  “That question can get me into trouble in so many ways,” I chuckle. “Women are so sensitive about that kind of thing.”

  “Maybe Australian women, but not me,” she sniffs. “I know I look younger than I am. I’m fine with that. It attracts younger men.” She reaches over and runs her fingers up my thigh, causing me to momentarily lose control of the car. She laughs as I compose myself. “You’re so cute, Lucas.”

  I groan. She says it like I’m a puppy. Maybe I’m in over my head with this one. With one hand on the wheel, I rest my other arm on the sill of the window and run my fingers through my hair.

  “Are you going to guess?” she pushes. “Play with me, Lucas.”

  “Twenty-three,” I finally say. It’s what I thought when I first saw her, but I have a feeling I’m way off.

  “Two more guesses,” she says, biting her blood-red lip. Her eyes sparkle.

  “Twenty-five?” I ask.

  She shakes her head, her smile widening.

  “Higher or lower?”

  “Higher.” She grins. “One more go. Guess right and you’ll win a prize.”

  “Forty.” I smirk, knowing that will get a reaction.

  A frown replaces her smile as she glowers at me. I chuckle as she slaps me on the arm. Why do chicks even ask that question when there’s always a risk of being insulted?

  “I hope you’re trying to be funny,” she retorts, her blue eyes narrowing. “I see why Australian women get offended now—because their men are half-wits. I’m twenty-seven,” she adds, haughtily.

  “Twenty-seven,” I repeat, considering her words. Six years older than I am. That’s fucking hot. “You want to know my age?”

  “Twenty-one,” she replies, not missing a beat.

  “How did you know that?” I say. I’m always getting told I look older than I am. I pride myself on it.

  “Because I asked for your license the first time I served you.” She grins.

  Shit. So she did. She’s pursuing me, knowing that I’m six years younger than she is. Does she have a thing for younger dudes? Because that is even hotter. I bet she likes control. She probably takes charge in the bedroom. I get hard just thinking about it. It’s like every guy’s fantasy, right?

  The band is fucking amazing. It would’ve been easy to fuck the whole night off after Lace bailed, but I’m glad I didn’t. Eva is actually a really cool girl, and unlike anyone I’ve ever met. If I wasn’t so hung up on Lace, she’d definitely be my type.

  Forget about Lace. Have some fun for once in your life. I chuckle at that thought because anyone would think all I did was have fun, but the reality is the complete opposite. My life is a series of attempts to try and forget the crazy feelings I have for a girl I can never be with.

  Real fun.

  After the gig, we decide to grab some dinner. We pull into Lecore’s at just after eleven. It’s one of the few places in town that I know are open late that still serve decent food. We walk inside, Eva hanging off my arm, talking about her travels around Europe.

  I listen, in awe of how much she’s seen. This girl has lived life. She takes chances and gives no fucks. I wish I could do that, even just for a moment. When was the last time I took a chance without caring about the consequences? I think about all the times I could’ve told Lace about how I feel and didn’t. The closest I’ve come to being honest with her about how I feel is alone in my bed with one hand wrapped around my cock.

  We’re halfway through dinner when I see her. With him. She hasn’t noticed me yet, as she sits at a table lit by soft candlelight less than a few metres away. She gazes into his eyes and I feel sick. I turn my attention to him, my hands balling into fists in my lap. That fucking smirk, the way he’s looking at her makes me want to fucking kill him.

  I kick my seat back, anger simmering inside of me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I glance down at Eva, who stares up at me, wide-eyed. Her perplexed gaze darts from me to Lacey before the confusion clears, her mouth forming a small circle. Refusing to cause a scene, I leave quietly, heading out the back way so I don’t have to pass their table. As much as I want to confront them, I’m not ready to face him just yet.

  As I sit down on the curb, my rage hurtling out of control, I can’t get the image of her looking at him like that out of my head. It took all my resolve not to walk over there and punch the fuck out of him. That would wipe the smile off his face.

  Eva flops down beside me. She touches my arm, her forehead creased in concern.

  “Are you okay?” she asks. “You were happy and laughing, and then the next thing I know you completely changed. You ran out of there and left me wondering—”

  “I’m sorry, Eva. I shouldn’t have run out like that. In fact, I shouldn’t have even asked you out tonight. It’s not fair on you.”

  “Ah,” she says, her confusion lifting. “She’s in there, yes? This girl, the one who has you so worked up? She’s in there with another guy?”

  I don’t answer. Instead, I just stare at the gravel under my feet, picking imaginary lint off my pants. If she was with any other guy I could handle it. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d cope. Seeing her with my own father? I can’t do it. I’m falling apart and I don’t know how to fix it. This whole mess is spiralling out of control right in front of me.

  “I know it’s none of
my business—”

  I snort and she glares at me. Since when has any subject been off limits for her?

  “As I was saying,” she continues. “Have you told her how you feel?”

  “It’s complicated. Too complicated to go into now,” I mumble.

  She stands up and grabs my hands, pulling me to my feet.

  I sigh. Too tired to argue, I let her.

  “Let’s get out of here. Give me your keys.”

  I toss them to her and climb into the passenger seat. She gets into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition. Mumbling to herself, she sets herself up while I watch, my eyes narrowing.

  “You can drive a manual, right?”

  “Sure,” she replies, revving the car to life. She slams her foot on the accelerator and flies out of the lot. “I drove you around the other week, remember?” She laughs, her eyes dancing. “I mean, I don’t have a license to drive over here, but back home I grew up on a farm. I can drive anything.”

  “Hold up,” I say, cutting in. “You don’t have an international license? Pull over up here. I’ll drive,” I say, pointing to a rest area ahead of us.

  “As if,” she scoffs. “You look like you’re a second away from bursting into tears. You’ll probably drive us off a bridge or something. Besides, I know how to drive. So I don’t have a little bit of paper that says I can—”

  “Plastic,” I correct her.

  She looks at me.

  “Licenses are plastic here,” I explain.

  “You are infuriating,” she exclaims with a grin.

  “And you need to pull over.”

  She groans, and pulls over into a rest area. She jumps out of the car and I do the same. I walk around to her side, holding my hands out for the keys. She leans over to try and hit me and I laugh, restraining her by the arms. She squeals, struggling against me until I let go, letting her fall into my arms. Laughing, she turns around, until our lips almost touch. My heart beats faster as her eyes lock on mine.

  “Keys,” I say, my lips twisting into a grin. She presses them into my hand and laughs.