HE LOVED ME LAST

Chapter 41

Lucas’s POV

Well, that didn’t go as planned.

She walked away like I’d insulted her. Like I hadn’t just done the one thing I swore I’d never do—put myself out there.

I stood on that street like an i***t, staring after her. My heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. It wasn’t even what she said that stung.

It was *how* she said it.

*"Are you out of your mind?"*

I wasn’t.

At least, I didn’t think I was.

I meant it.

I’d been thinking about it for days—since the dinner, since the library, since the moment she stopped being just a rival and became something I noticed without meaning to.

She was always there. In my head. In my space.

But now she was gone. Storming off like I’d crossed some unforgivable line.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and exhaled slowly.

Maybe I messed it up. Maybe I came on too fast. Too casually. Too… *me.*

She didn’t trust me. That much was obvious.

And honestly?

I didn’t blame her.

I hadn’t exactly been a model human. I’d teased her, embarrassed her, competed with her like we were enemies. And now I expected her to believe I wanted something real?

Yeah. I guess that did sound insane.

But I wasn’t giving up.

Not yet.

Because when she looked at me—really looked—there was something there. She might hate me. But she *felt* something.

And that was enough for now.

I started walking again, slower this time.

I wasn’t going to chase after her—*again.* She needed space. Maybe time. I got that.

But her reaction didn’t erase the feeling I had when I asked her. That maybe—for once—I wasn’t playing around.

I’d meant what I said.

Even if I’d said it badly.

And I couldn’t stop thinking about the way her eyes widened. Shocked, yes. Hurt, maybe. Angry—definitely. But underneath all that, there was something I couldn’t name.

She *felt* something too. She just didn’t want to.

And who could blame her?

I’d given her every reason to think I was a selfish, arrogant jerk. Because that’s what I’d been.

It was easier that way.

Easier than letting anyone know how she made me feel when she laughed. Or when she stared at the board with that determined look she always got before answering a question. Or how I actually *wanted* to beat her at school—not to hurt her, but to keep up with her. Because she challenged me like no one else did.

But I’d screwed up.

Again.

And now?

Now I had to decide whether I’d let her walk away for good—or fight the way I never had before.

Yeah.

It was her turn to be mad.

But maybe next time… I’d give her a reason to forgive me.

Because this time, it wasn’t a dare.

It wasn’t a joke.

It was *her.*

And I was already in too deep.