Page 58 of Pucking Sweet

More than that, I want them towantme.

And I’m tired of feeling so alone. Is Anderson right? Am I truly so insufferable, destined to be alone forever?

Lukas leads me out of Club 7, his phone in his hand as he orders the Uber. “Two minutes out,” he says, his arm still casually around my waist. As soon as the little blue sedan arrives, he’s opening the door, letting me slide in the back seat. I scoot all the way over, and he gets in. The driver pulls us into traffic. “Electric Feel” by MGMT plays softly on the stereo.

“Mmm, I love this song,” I murmur, resting my head on the coolwindow glass. The quiet of the car after the noise of the club is almost disorienting.

“Your friend seems cool,” Lukas offers after a minute of silence.

I smile. “Yeah, she’s great.”

“How do you know each other?”

“Her mom was my family’s private chef for eleven years. They lived over the garage.”

“Jesus. Silver spoon much?”

“Oh, please, darling.” I channel my mother’s haughtiest voice. “Silver was reserved for public use and that unmannerly Bush boy. The family always ate with 24-karat gold.”

He chuckles.

I glance across the dark car, my mood sobering. “It’s true. My family is rich. I don’t apologize for who I am or where I come from. It’s my story, just like your story belongs to you.”

He holds my gaze, searching my face. “Fair enough.”

I turn to look back out the window.

“What did she mean by ‘the candidate’?”

I go still, hand clutching my little purse. “Nothing.”

“Poppy…”

“Hmm?”

His gaze is molten, the caramel flashing gold with each streetlamp we drive under. “Why were you wasting your time dancing with that asshole?”

I look pointedly away. “Kyle was being a perfect gentleman until you showed up. And I’m allowed to dance with whoever I want, Lukas. It’s a free country.”

“Of course his name is Kyle. And what was going to happen between you and Limp Dick Kyle if I hadn’t walked up when I did?”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Becauseheseemed to think he was taking you home tonight. Is that because he was your chosen candidate?”

“Lukas—”

“Your candidate for what, Poppy?”

Pulse racing, anger rising, I turn to face him again. “Do I really have to explain it? You of all people should know how a one-night stand works.”

He’s still as stone as he glares at me across the car. “You were gonna fuck that guy?”

I look quickly away. “No.”

“You’re saying if I hadn’t walked up exactly when I did, you were gonna let that whiny little wannabe golf pro take you to his home and fuck you on his Tommy Bahama bedspread?”

“No,” I say again. “I wasn’t going to go through with it, okay? I mean, Iwasfor like a minute—but I couldn’t. I just…” I drag both my hands through my hair. “God, I chickened out, okay? But you already know all this. You read the room the moment you walked up, so why are you pushing me right now? Just ask what you really want to ask.”