Chapter 8
947words
Lucas's gaze locked on her, sharp as a laser. His jaw clenched. He didn't even try to hide the way his eyes followed every bounce. Then—
“Damn,” a voice said behind her. “I saw that. Your ass and your tits… damn.”
Lucas’s entire expression darkened.
“The fuck did you just say?” he growled, stepping in front of you, blocking the guy’s view like a damn wall.
The guy just smirked, leaning against a post like he owned the air he breathed. “Relax, man. I was just admiring the view.”
Lucas’s fists curled, the veins on his arms rising like lightning under his skin. “Back. Off.”
Now other people were starting to notice. Eyes turned. Whispers began. The tension? Thick enough to choke on.
You stepped forward before Lucas snapped.
“Excuse you,” you said, voice ice. “You got a problem?”
The guy blinked, then smirked again. “No problem. You’re just fine as hell.”
“Step. Back.”
He hesitated—but you didn’t. You took a bold step forward. The guy flinched.
“What exactly is your problem, huh?” you snapped. “Can’t talk to a girl without being a perv?”
Lucas was behind you now, close enough that his heat pressed into your back. His presence was loud, dangerous.
The guy raised his hands. “Fine, whatever.” He turned, muttering something under his breath as he walked away—but he walked away.
Lucas was still vibrating with rage.
“I hate him,” you muttered, your hand reaching up to touch his face gently, pulling him out of his storm.
Lucas’s eyes flicked down to yours. The tension in his shoulders softened under your touch.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Me too.”
“Let’s go,” you whispered, thumb brushing his cheek.
He gave a curt nod. “Game center?”
“Game center.”
You walked ahead, and Lucas followed, his eyes still flicking around like he was ready to deck anyone who dared look twice.
“So, what should we play?” you asked, bouncing slightly as you walked—completely unaware of the way your hoodie danced with every step.
Lucas noticed. God, he noticed.
Before he could answer, a girl sidled up to him like she had a plan.
“Hey,” she purred.
Lucas turned, startled. “Uh… hey?”
Meanwhile…
A guy was heading your way now. Average height. Lean. Eyes like he had stories in them.
“Hi, princess,” he said with a grin.
You raised a brow. “Hey.”
“You’re pretty cute,” he added, stepping closer, eyes dragging slowly over you.
You smiled, polite but firm. “Thanks.”
“What’s your name?” he asked, a little too close now.
“Can you step back?”
He blinked, taken aback. “Uh, sure.”
And just like that—you were gone. Off toward the arcade machines. You spotted a game and joined a new player. Sam. Slim, cool, and clearly—clearly—gay.
Sam grinned. “Nice form.”
“You too,” you replied, smirking. “So, wait. You got a tattoo of the guy you love… on your back?”
Sam laughed, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Yeah. So what?”
“That’s insane. I hope I get to meet him.”
“You’re sweet,” he said, smiling. “He probably doesn’t like me back though.”
“You sure?” you tilted your head. “’Cause there’s a dude with green hair over there who’s been glaring at me since I got here.”
Sam snapped his head around so fast you almost laughed.
“…What?” he whispered, voice suddenly breathless.
You nudged him. “Go talk to him.”
He turned back to you, hugged you tight, and gave a quick peck on your cheek.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll text you.”
You nodded, watching him go—and right then, Lucas walked over.
“You done?” you asked, grinning.
Lucas was watching Sam’s back with narrowed eyes. “Yeah.”
Just then, Sam popped back in to whisper something in your ear. You laughed, nudged him, and he ran off again.
Lucas’s jaw twitched.
“She left,” he said stiffly.
“Oh. Okay.” You shrugged. “Anyway—”
Sam came back again, this time holding out his phone. “Put your number in. We need to talk later.”
Lucas stared. “Seriously?”
You turned to Lucas, playful. “One sec.”
You tapped your number into Sam’s phone. He smiled and darted off to his cabin again with a wink.
Lucas turned to you, arms crossed.
“…Why are you giving him your number?”
You blinked. “It’s Sam.”
Lucas raised a brow.
“Met him today. Cool dude. Gay. Cute and cool.”
Lucas blinked slowly. “Huh… I see.”
You smiled. “Yep.”
Then, just when Lucas thought it was over—Sam returned again, kissed your cheek with a loud, “Text you tonight, pretty,” and vanished.
Lucas’s expression?
Deadpan. Jealous. Glitching.
“Well,” you grinned, “guess I have to meet him tonight.”
Lucas turned. “You’re going out? At night?”
He stared at you. “It’s dark.”
You smiled, all innocent. “So?”
Lucas clenched his jaw, his steps a little faster now as you both walked. He was mad, quiet-mad, and you knew it.
You skipped ahead a bit, talking about Sam again, hoodie bouncing, hips swinging—and Lucas definitely noticed.
“So you really like this guy?” he asked, eyes on your chest, then your face.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
“I do like him,” you said honestly. “I’ve got no reason to hate him.”
Lucas was silent. Processing.
You both reached the cabin. The air was thicker now, darker. Private.
Lucas glanced around, then stepped closer. You could feel him, smell his cologne again—clean, sharp, addictive.
“Sam is gay,” you said quietly.
Lucas blinked, then let out a slow breath. “Yeah… I remember.”
You turned to him, a grin curling on your lips. “You jealous?”
He looked at you, cheeks slightly pink. “…Was I that obvious?”
You smirked.
