Page 24 of Under My Skin

Chapter Twenty-Four

EVERETT

What the hell was that? My anxiety has me rubbing circles over the back of her hand. I can’t stop. It’s like a compulsive tick because as soon as we’re back at the apartment I’m going to have to face her, and I don’t know what the hell to say.

Lucy Blake just made a move on me.

Simon’s little sister.

It’s probably because she was drinking. Who knows how much vodka they put in those damn mules. Hell, there’s a good chance she didn’t even mean it. It was probably just a lapse of judgment. A glitch in the matrix. Because there isn’t some alternate reality where Lucy Blake wants me. There can’t be.

But fuck did it feel good. The only reason I stopped her is because she was too close to finding out just how good I thought it felt. My dick is still throbbing, begging for another chance to be touched by her.

Slowing the bike, I move my hand from hers to better turn into the apartment, immediately missing the contact.

This time, her hands remain exactly where I left them.

She’s completely still behind me, and I wonder what she’s thinking.

Maybe she doesn’t even remember because it wasn’t worth remembering.

She doesn’t seem that drunk, but I have no idea how much of a lightweight Lucy usually is.

Seeing her parents was hard for her today, maybe that’s what made her drink more than her usual limit.

Backing the bike into a parking space near the front of the apartment, I brace myself for whatever weird conversation we’re about to have and kill the engine.

Lucy eagerly hops down from the bike before I can tell her where to put her feet, and she nearly eats the pavement. Grabbing her by the wrist at the last minute, I pull her upright. “In a hurry?”

“No!” she says in a frenzy. She goes to take off the helmet but doesn’t loosen the strap first. As she tugs, she adds, “I just need to take care of Pudge.”

I huff a laugh before taking off my own helmet and setting it aside.

“He’s a cat. I’m sure he’s fine.” Getting off the bike, I head toward her, but she’s still trying and failing to get the helmet off.

“Would you stop?” I cover her hands with mine.

She stills as soon as I touch her, and her arms slowly fall to her sides.

It takes me all of two seconds to loosen the strap and slip the helmet off her head. “See? You just need to slow down.”

Lowering the helmet, I’m met with wide blue eyes that could rival the ocean. This close, I can see the scattered freckles that dot the bridge of her nose. Damn, she’s beautiful.

Before I have the chance to fully take her in, she points around me and sidesteps. “I have to take care of my cat.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “You do that.” She picks up her pace, jogging up the steps and out of sight as she ducks into the apartment.

I run my hand through my hair, letting my hand fall to the back of my neck as I look down at the bike and shake my head.

I guess we’re pretending nothing happened.

I blow out a breath. It’s for the best. I don’t need a genius to tell me that.

I have no business being touched by Lucy.

Even if I know it’s the only thing I’ll be able to think about for weeks.

Taking the key from the bike, I head up toward the apartment myself, my heart thudding in my chest every step of the way. I can do this. I can pretend it never happened, but deep down, part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me wants to make her breath hitch right before I kiss her.

When I reach the door, I take a second before going inside.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I try to get a grip.

This is Simon’s apartment, and she’s Simon’s sister.

Nothing can happen here—especially with her.

I open the door to find Lucy standing in the living room with her back toward me.

She spins at the sound of the door and immediately holds out the cat in her arms. “I found him.” Pudge’s hind legs dangle in the air, his front paws jutting out as he gives a feeble meow in protest.

My eyebrow arches. “Was he lost?”

She pulls the cat back to her chest, putting him in a more comfortable position, which he seems to appreciate. “Well, no. But I couldn’t find him at first. He was in your room. I think he likes it in there.”

She’s disheveled from the ride. Her ponytail is lower with pieces falling around her face, and my jacket looks like an oversized coat on her.

I might like how she looks in my clothes a little too much, so instead of giving myself time to think about it, I point to the laundry closet.

“Did you get the sheets out of the dryer?”

“Not yet.” She sets down the cat and shrugs off my jacket before neatly setting it over the arm of the couch.

“I still feel weird taking your room. I promise I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.

” She seems less panicked now. Or maybe she’s just relieved I’m letting her little stunt go.

Maybe she regrets it, and she’s glad I’m giving her an easy out.

Heading toward the closet, I answer her over my shoulder, “You’re sleeping in the room, Luce.” I open the dryer door and bundle the sheets into my arms, but when I turn around, I nearly walk into her.

She staggers back a step. “I can take those.”

With a slight shake of my head, I step around her. “Don’t worry about it.” I walk to the room with her trailing behind, and as soon we’re standing on either side of the bed, Pudge joins, too. The cream-colored ball of fluff curls up in the middle of the mattress, and I laugh.

Lucy gently moves him out of the way, so I start working on the fitted sheet.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts.

I look over at her as I’m tucking the sheet under one of the corners. I know what she’s referring to, but the last thing I want is for her to feel more embarrassed. “Don’t be. I told you to sleep here.”

She opens her mouth like she’s about to object, but then snaps it shut with a nod. “Right.” A beat of silence passes between us as she helps secure the opposite corner, but when she stands up straight, she adds, “I think I’ll be able to handle seeing my parents better tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah?” We move to the bottom of the bed and work on the other two corners. “Why’s that?”

Lucy shrugs. “I don’t know. I think learning about them doing something so out of character made me almost expect them to be different people. But they were still them. Even if they’re holding onto secrets, I guess it doesn’t have to take away from who they are to me.”

I reach for the top sheet. “I think that’s a good way to approach it. I mean, regardless of what happened between them, your dad will always be the guy who sings happy birthday in soprano.”

A smile lifts her lips, and she shakes her head as she reaches for the other side of the sheet. “He is so weird.” As soon as the sheet settles between us, she adds, “How’s your mom by the way?”

I usually shut down any conversation about either of my parents, but coming from Lucy, the question doesn’t hit the same.

There’s something about the way she looks at me that has me wanting to tell her the truth.

“I think she’s struggling,” I finally say.

The corners of Lucy’s lips dip into a slight frown, but she doesn’ t say anything.

She just waits for me to continue. My heart rate picks up in my chest, but I force myself to say what’s been on my mind for far too long.

“The worst part is not knowing how to help her, and when I don’t know how to help, being around her just makes me feel guilty.

So, I’ll stay away for a while, but that makes the guilt worse, too. ”

Lucy eyes me carefully and feeling this exposed I want to bolt out the door. “I don’t think it’s your job to figure out how to help her. I think just being there for her would be enough.”

I nod, swallowing down whatever feelings she’s on the verge of tapping into. Reaching for a pillow, I put on the fresh pillowcase and toss it toward the top of the bed, all with her still studying me.

“How have you been holding up since . . .” her voice trails, but our eyes lock, and I know what she’s referring to.

“Fine,” I answer too quickly. “I mean, it’s been a while.” I grab the second pillowcase and run my fingers over the edge of the fabric. “The time passing somehow makes it both better and worse.”

She takes a seat on the bed. “How so?”

I look down at the pillowcase, still running my fingers over the fabric.

With a shrug, I finally move to put the case on the pillow.

“I don’t know. In some ways, the wound feels less fresh.

The shock of him not being here starts to wear off, but he’s ingrained in everything.

Everything is a reminder of what’s lost or what could have been.

” My eyes jump to her, and she’s still giving me her full attention.

I toss the second pillow toward the top of the bed and let out a humorless laugh. “Grief is exhausting.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice small. “And here I am, venting about my parents.” She looks down and picks at the sleeve of her sweater. “What I’m going through seems trivial in comparison.”

“Not really.” I take a seat next to her, resting my elbows on my knees.

When I look over at her, her eyes are glassy.

I have no way of knowing if it’s the vodka in her system or whatever she’s feeling right now, but I make sure to hold her stare when I say, “You’re still grieving something.

It might not be the same, but the future you envisioned with your parents looks different than how you thought it would. ”

The corner of her mouth pulls into a sad smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

I want to reach for her hand, to comfort her in some way, but I don’t.

Not because I’m too broken to offer her anything.

I actually think comforting her would comfort me too, but doing anything with Lucy is starting to feel a lot like playing with fire.

Everything with her is magnified. Every touch, every look, every conversation holds more weight with her than anyone else, and as much as I want to lean into it, I can’t.