CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1351 Words
Lucas’s POV
I woke up before my alarm.
For a few seconds, I didn’t remember why my chest felt tight.
Then, the rooftop came back in fragments.
Her breath.
The way she didn’t move.
The way she did.
We can’t.
I stared at the ceiling and exhaled slowly.
Tonight was just dinner.
Normal.
I repeated the word until it almost sounded believable.
When I stepped into the kitchen, Naomi was already there.
Of course she was.
She stood at coffee, posture straight, movements precise. Composed. Like she hadn’t almost let me kiss her two nights ago.
“Morning,” she said lightly.
“Morning.”
I reached for a mug at the same time she did.
Our fingers brushed.
It was barely contact. But it was enough.
She pulled her hand back first. “Sorry.”
“Yeah.”
The air shifted.
We moved around each other carefully after that, like the kitchen had suddenly shrunk.
“You’re ready for tonight?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be good. We haven’t seen Hannah and Ethan in a while.”
Her voice was steady. Measured.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
She took her coffee and walked back toward her room. Her shoulder brushed mine slightly as she passed.
Neither of us commented.
But I felt it long after she disappeared down the hallway.
Naomi’s POV
I had convinced myself I was calm.
I had rehearsed normal in the mirror.
It worked—until he looked at me in the kitchen like he was remembering something I was trying to forget.
Dinner.
Just dinner.
Hannah had been excited about this for weeks. She loved double dates. Loved the idea of us finally meeting properly as couples.
Couples.
I changed twice before settling on something that felt like me.
When I stepped out, I smoothed down the fabric unconsciously.
The top was soft and fitted, a muted tone that didn’t draw attention but didn’t disappear either. It rested naturally against my frame, simple and clean. I’d tucked it into high-waisted dark trousers that fell straight and flattering, structured without looking stiff.
Nothing loud.
My hair fell loose over one shoulder, catching the light when I moved. Minimal makeup. Gloss instead of lipstick. A thin necklace resting at my collarbone.
Put together. Not trying too hard.
Lucas was adjusting his watch in the living room when I walked in.
He looked up.
And stopped.
The pause was brief, but it was there.
“You look nice,” he said.
Not teasing. Not exaggerated.
Just honest.
“Thank you,” I replied. “You do too.”
He looked like he wanted to say more.
He didn’t.
Lucas’s POV
Hannah waved the second she spotted us outside the restaurant.
“There they are!” she called dramatically.
Ethan stood beside her, hands in his pockets, smiling easy and relaxed.
He clapped my shoulder when we reached them. “Finally. Thought you were ditching.”
“Traffic,” I said.
Naomi hugged Hannah, the two of them slipping into easy conversation immediately.
We slid into a booth—Hannah and Ethan on one side, Naomi and me on the other.
Too close.
My arm rested along the back of the seat without thinking. My fingers brushed Naomi’s shoulder lightly.
She stiffened.
Just slightly.
I felt it.
I almost moved my arm away.
Instead, I let it rest there more carefully.
Ethan leaned back in his seat. “It’s actually wild how natural you two look together.”
Naomi smiled smoothly. “We spend a lot of time together.”
“That helps,” Hannah added. “You can tell when couples are still awkward. You two aren’t.”
My jaw tightened at the word couple.
Conversation flowed easily after that.
Random gossip. Hannah teasing Ethan about something dumb he did last week.
Naomi laughed at something Ethan said, her hand coming to rest briefly on my knee as she leaned forward.
It was instinctive.
She didn’t seem to realize she’d done it.
My breath stalled.
Her hand lingered a second too long before she pulled back.
Ethan watched us quietly for a moment before speaking.
“So,” he said casually, “how did you two actually start dating? I’ve heard Hannah’s version. I want the official one.”
It was an innocent question.
Normal.
Naomi glanced at me.
I felt the weight of it.
“It just… happened,” I said.
Hannah grinned. “That’s so vague.”
Ethan smirked. “Translation: neither of you made the first move.”
Naomi rolled her eyes softly. “It wasn’t that dramatic.”
I shrugged. “We live together. It made sense.”
The words came out steadier than I felt.
Ethan nodded slowly. “Sometimes that’s how it works. You don’t even notice the shift.”
Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.
Naomi reached for her glass again. Our knees knocked under the table.
Neither of us moved away.
At one point she reached up and adjusted my collar.
“You folded this weird,” she murmured.
Her fingers brushed my neck.
Heat climbed up my spine.
Hannah sighed happily. “See? This is what I mean. Domestic.”
Naomi laughed lightly.
I didn’t.
I just looked at her.
And didn’t stop fast enough.
Naomi’s POV
Dinner felt longer than it was.
Every small touch felt amplified.
When Ethan joked with Lucas, Lucas relaxed for a moment.
And I saw it.
The version of him that wasn’t careful.
It made something twist in my chest.
At one point, Hannah leaned toward me. “You look really happy, by the way.”
My heart skipped.
“I am,” I said automatically.
And that was the terrifying part.
Because I wasn’t sure that was entirely a lie.
Outside the restaurant, we said our goodbyes.
Hannah hugged me tightly. “We’re doing this again soon.”
“Definitely,” I replied.
Ethan shook Lucas’s hand before pulling him into a quick half-hug. “Don’t be a stranger.”
Lucas smiled. “You either.”
Then it was just us.
The walk home was quiet.
Just heavy.
“You were different tonight,” I said finally.
He didn’t answer immediately.
“I wasn’t pretending,” he said.
My steps slowed.
“What?”
He exhaled softly. “You said I was acting strange.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” He glanced at me briefly. “I just… wasn’t acting.”
The words settled between us.
We climbed the stairs in silence.
Inside the apartment, the door clicked shut behind us.
The quiet felt thicker here.
He set his keys down slowly. “I don’t know when it stopped being fake,” he said, voice low.
My pulse jumped.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “At the beginning, yeah. It was an arrangement. Convenient. Easy.”
He stepped a little closer.
“But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like that.”
The air felt too thin.
“I wasn’t messing up tonight,” he continued. “I just wasn’t pretending.”
My composure wavered for the first time all day.
He wasn’t confessing.
He wasn’t asking for anything.
He was just being honest.
And that was worse.
Because honesty meant this wasn’t one-sided confusion.
“Lucas…” I started.
He held my gaze.
Too steady.
Too real.
I remembered the rooftop.
The almost.
The way my body had leaned toward him before my mind pulled back.
I forced my voice to stay calm.
“Goodnight.”
A flicker crossed his face—something restrained, something unfinished.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Goodnight.”
I walked to my room without rushing.
Closed the door gently.
And only then did I let my shoulders drop.
He didn’t know that his honesty made everything harder.
Because now the line between real and pretend wasn’t blurry anymore.
It was dissolving.
And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep acting like I didn’t feel it, too.
- Writer
