HE LOVED ME LAST

Chapter 43

Lucas’s POV

Friends.

It was the last thing I expected her to say.

I thought she'd walk away again—or shut me out completely. But she didn’t. Instead, she said yes. Quietly. Firmly. With rules, of course—Alice always had rules.

Secret friends.

The phrase alone was ridiculous. This whole thing felt like something out of a teenage spy movie. But I agreed. Because it meant I was *in.* Not completely. Not romantically. But somewhere closer than before.

And honestly? I’d take it.

The next day, we barely looked at each other in class. Just like she wanted. I kept my usual seat, cracked a joke with Henry, teased Amelia about her overdone makeup—routine stuff. But the whole time, I could *feel* her behind me. The way she tapped her pen. The soft sigh she let out when the teacher started a long explanation.

I was starting to notice everything.

Then something completely stupid happened.

In literature class, Mr. Bryant handed out group assignments. “You’ll be working in pairs for the Shakespeare project,” he said, scanning the room with deadly calm. “Partners are assigned randomly.”

Randomly my ass.

“Lucas Stone and…” He checked his clipboard.

Here it comes.

“…Alice Harper.”

Later that afternoon, I got a text.

*Unknown Number*: *Library. 4 PM. Table in the back. Don’t be late.*

I smirked.

No name needed. Of course it was her.

When I walked into the library, she was already there, books spread across the table, her glasses perched on her nose. She looked focused, like she was planning a heist instead of a group project.

“Glad to see the secret agent made it,” I said, pulling out the chair opposite her.

She didn’t even look up. “Keep your voice down. And no one saw you, right?”

“Relax, Harper. I didn’t hire a marching band.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Let’s just start. I already picked a scene—Act II, the balcony one.”

“Of course,” I grinned. “The romantic one.”

“Because it’s the most iconic, not because it’s romantic,” she muttered, flipping through pages.

“You sure? You don’t want to imagine me reciting poetry under your window?”

She paused, then looked up slowly. “Do you want me to throw this book at you?”

I grinned wider. “There she is.”

She sighed, but this time—just maybe—her lips curved slightly.

We started working. And I was surprised, honestly. She was smart—I already knew that—but she was also… calm. Thoughtful. She explained her ideas clearly, with this quiet passion that made the words come alive. I almost forgot to argue.

Almost.

“You’re giving Juliet too much attitude,” I said, watching her read her part.

“And you’re making Romeo sound like a lost puppy,” she shot back.

We stared at each other. And then we both laughed—quietly. Just for a second. But it felt… natural.

Comfortable.

Not war.

Not rivalry.

Something else.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this in secret,” I said finally, lowering my voice.

She shrugged. “That’s what happens when the queen of school gossip has her eye on you.”

“Amelia.”

She nodded.

I leaned back, folding my arms. “So what happens when people find out?”

She looked up at me. “They won’t.”

I smiled slowly. “So you plan to deny our friendship until graduation?”

“Exactly.”

“Cold.”

She held out her hand. “Shakespeare pact?”

I shook it without hesitation.

This was new.

Unexpected.

But it wasn’t nothing.

And I wasn’t letting it go.