I was awakened by the sound of someone bumping into my closet door. I slowly opened my almost glued together eyes to see Lukas hopping around and trying to put on his pants. He was still shirtless and the sight of his impressively sculptured chest and abdomen for someone who "doesn't work out" because he has "better things to do". What a liar. I stretched and let out a huff that must have caught Lukas's attention considering he immediately froze and for a second I was sure he was about to bolt. Instead, he turned to me and finished doing his belt.
"Good, you're awake. I was about to throw something at you."
"Mhm," I was still too sleepy to really pay attention.
He just smiled at me. I liked it when he smiled like that. When he thought no one could see.
"Why are you up already?"
I wasn't used to talking in the morning. My vocal cords seem to have mistaken me for someone who has been smoking for the last 15 years.
"Because we have work."
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. It was barely half-past seven and when I shared that information he just scoffed.
"No wonder you're always late. Speaking of work, can I borrow one of your shirts? I know they are probably too short for me-"
"I am literally three centimetres shorter than you."
"You might be rounding down a bit, but ok. I really do need to borrow a shirt though. I don't want to smell of sex in front of my sister and brother."
At first, I just nodded not really listening right up until the last sentence. Suddenly I remembered why Lukas was even in my room. I shot up into the sitting position while he was examining my clothes. As he disappeared further into my walk-in closet, I let myself be drowned by the flashes of last night.
I slept with Lukas.
I actually slept with someone I work with. Not just that, he's my friend. Ever since Demetra, I promised myself that friends should stay friends. No benefits to be had.
Though, if I was honest to myself, I had a crush on him for almost as long as I considered him a friend. Which begs the question if he was ever just a friend to me?
Before I could pretend I didn't know the answer to that question, he came out holding a crisp white shirt.
"I think this one is pretty nice. Can I? I will wash it."
I was sure I said yes, but I must have not, because he snapped his fingers in front of my face.
"Spencer, pay attention. I need a yes or a no."
"Yes."
"Thank you. It will be returned to you in mint condition."
When he started buttoning the shirt I noticed he wasn't bitting his lip. That was when I realized he was completely calm.
"How the fuck are you not freaking out right now?!"
He stopped dealing with the buttons.
"You obviously have that covered."
He finished buttoning and adjusted the collar.
"No! I mean, yes, but I shouldn't be the one having a crisis!"
"Then don't have it."
"You should be having it!"
"You want me to have an identity crisis?"
"No, I want you to acknowledge what happened before you start pretending nothing did."
"Ok," he put on his suit jacket "We had sex."
I really thought he would go full-on denial mode.
"You do realize that no matter how many jokes you make I am a man right?"
He rolled his eyes.
"Yes, my ass and I will be reminded of that every time I sit on it for the next three days."
Jesus Christ. I don't blush easily, but I definitely did at that.
"So, what? Was I your awakening?"
He snorted.
"No. I am attracted to women. I have never been attracted to any man before you. So call me straight with an exception if you like labels so much."
"Oh."
I couldn't help but smile.
"Are you flattered?"
"A little bit. I've never been anyone's exception before."
"Congrats on your new accomplishment. I have to go to the coffee shop and then go to the office and blackmail Victoria to let me in on the case-"
Oh no.
He was already leaving so I gently grabbed him by the elbow.
"Wait. Don't do whatever you planned, which will undoubtedly be on the verge of illegal, and let me handle it."
He gave me an uncertain look.
"I will talk to your father. Trust me."
"Always."
My stomach dropped in the pleasantest of ways.
Always
"Now I do have to go before all the good doughnuts are gone. Want one?"
"Sure."
"Ok. I'll bring you one. White chocolate right?"
"How do you-"
He shrugged.
"You once said that you don't like chocolate that much if it isn't white. Which, you know, kind of racist-"
I threw a pillow at him. He returned it laughing.
He left my room and I threw my head back onto the pillow.
"Forgot something."
"Wha-"
My question was cut short by his lips on mine. I responded with just as much vigour and even though it wasn't as passionate as last night I loved the firmness of it. It was a question.
"I would very much like to do it again."
He smirked.
"Good. I do hate asking. Now get up, lazy ass."
He threw the covers off me and disappeared through the doors.
X
(Lukas POV)
Almost as soon as I opened my office, Victoria barged in. I almost applauded her for managing to wait those thirty seconds.
"Hello, Victoria. Lovely morning don't you think?" I asked innocently while sipping my tea.
"Cut the bullshit. Did you really kiss him just so I wouldn't ask him out?"
"Yes, I did."
"What's wrong with you?"
"Besides the obvious?"
She glared.
"You just can't handle that someone might choose me over you, can you?"
"Does Aaron know you used him because of your dumbass grudge?"
"He does. But he didn't seem to mind that much last night."
I wiggled my eyebrows.
"You're being...Wait, seriously? You slept together?"
"I don't usually blowjob and tell, buuuut..."
She frowned.
"Can you stop being crude!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, are my proclivities just too much for your innocent ears?"
"I do hate you sometimes."
I sat down (feeling sore) and opened a file. I wasn't actually reading, I just felt petty.
"Green has never been a good colour on your sister dear."
I knew she was still shooting daggers at me. I lifted my eyes to her and raised my eyebrows. She stomped out of the office like I knew she would. I snickered to myself and closed the papers.
That was just too easy.
X
(Aron POV)
I was somehow almost late again. I really wanted to go to my office for a doughnut, but I just had to see Liam O'Neal alone in the office. I didn't expect to get the opportunity to talk to him this early in the morning. I was counting on a bit of caffeine to rejuvenate me, but now I'm going in dry I guess.
I knocked and opened the doors slightly.
"Mr O'Neal? May I come in?"
He closed his laptop and now I could clearly see his surprised yet unmistakably curious face. It's true that I have not been to his office since I was hired so both emotions were warranted.
"Yes, of course, come in."
He gestured toward the chair and I sat down. His green eyes peering through those black-rimmed glasses were an almost perfect replica of Lukas's. Maybe not as intense but the shape and this, apparently, permanent mischievous glint were eerily similar. Lukas truly was his father's son.
The dark hair, very defined facial features including high cheekbones and a perfect nose. Lukas really did win the genetic lottery.
I am honestly baffled why it took me so long to notice how much alike they looked.
"How may I help you?" his voice was weirdly comforting, even though it really didn't need to be.
Lukas's genetic makeup must have left out the genes to be able to do that. I don't think he could manage to sound this calm if he practised.
"Yes, victoria spoke to me about the case alfa that she needs me on, but I also know you told Lukas that he wasn't ready."
His face hardened fo a second. Well, this expression...this one was Victoria's.
"Yes, that's-"
"I assure you, he is."
He blinked, caught off guard by that. He stayed quiet waiting for me to continue.
"Ever since he came back from... wherever, you've only assigned him divorces and insurance debacles. He is a criminologist and if he doesn't get some actual cases to work on, he might start committing crimes himself."
His lips turned upward into a small smile.
"You sure do know him."
You have no idea.
"So he hasn't told you where he was?"
"I thought he was at his mother's."
He leaned back, crossing his arms and chuckled.
"I have been working as a lawyer for more than twenty-five years now. I can tell when someone doesn't buy my defence."
"No, he didn't tell me. And I stopped asking."
"Thank you."
I nodded.
"If this case it's really as big as you make it out to be, you'll need him."
He stayed silent, thinking. He adjusted his glasses. He swallowed.
"Alright. You're probably right. Fine, he's on the team."
Even as he said that we didn't look, confidant. He seemed worried. I smiled, trying to seem reassuring.
"But you should know that there's a reason why he and Victoria don't work together frequently."
"I'll make sure he behaves."
"I think you're the only person I could believe to be successful at that."
I chuckled. What can I say, it was kind of flattering. I thanked him and excused myself.
As soon as opened our office doors I could almost hear the words about to be thrown at me.
"No, you asshole, I am not late."
He looked at the clock on the wall.
"Oh my god, that explains so much. You can't tell time."
I was very tempted to tell him I couldn't convince his father to let him join the team. Instead, I opted for the classic. I pushed his legs off the desk and, like always, he almost fell on the floor.
"I went to talk to your dad."
Now I really got his attention.
"And?"
"You're in."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. You know, being nice actually works wonders."
He smiled. Bright, with wrinkles around his eyes, kind of smile.
"Thank you. Really."
"You're welcome."
"Fuck. I could kiss you right now."
My heart sped up.
"Not at work honey. But I am free this evening."
I fluttered my lashes.
"You got it."
I snorted.
"Oh, right. I should probably tell you that Victoria knows about us having sex."
If I had been drinking anything I would have spat it out.
"WHAT?! Why?!"
"She guessed, Spencer, what can I do. Lie?"
"Right, I forgot how much you morally oppose that."
"It might have come with the added benefit of royally pissing her off."
I rolled my eyes.
"You're a child."
"That makes you a paedophile."
My pen landed smack dab in the middle of his forehead.
X
(Margo POV)
So, I might have fucked up. Since I blew Tristan off two nights ago, I really was planning on going home the next morning. The problem was that there was a big storm in New York, which meant my flight was delayed until tomorrow morning. Kind of regretting not taking my private jet on this trip.
And naturally, since apparently, I am an idiot, I have decided to go watch the quarter-final. I almost talked myself out of it, but then I do have the tickets and I would have watched it on TV anyway, so I figured I might as well go.
That's why I was sitting here in the middle of the second set, wondering what the hell was up with Tristan? It was like he was distracted. If there was something to fuck up, he did.
He had about three points by now, which is horrible compared to his previous games. I was biting my nails nervously, my manicure be damned. When the coach benched him after again miss-serving at the beginning of the third set I was not at all surprised he stayed there until the end of the game. I wanted to watch the match, I really did, but my eyes were jumping back to Tristan on the bench. I couldn't see him very well, just his dark red hair, almost wine coloured now. Yet I knew he was sad, angry and the feeling that brought me was as foreign as it was just downright horrible.
When the game ended with our team winning convincingly in three sets, I knew I should just go to my hotel room. And I was on my way there, I really was. I just wanted a quiet night, before flying back tomorrow. Wine, movie, maybe a good stake.
But then Tristan's defeated face materialized in front of my eyes. I stopped in front of the exit and turned back. I knew he would stay in the dressing rooms after everyone left, so he could sulk in peace. Well, fuck that.
Just as I thought, he was sitting on the bench, with a towel around his neck. His head was resting on the wall behind him and I could see that the redness in his eyes could rival that of his hair.
"Hey."
He turned to me, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back in New York?"
I sat on the bench beside him.
"There was a storm. My flight was delayed."
"Since when do you fly commercial?"
"It was a non-business trip."
It got quiet. I could hear workers cleaning up the arena.
"Are you-" I started, but he cut me off.
"Why are you here?"
His voice was tired, not in a physical way, just drained of any real emotion.
"This wasn't your night, so I figured maybe you wouldn't want to be alone."
The sound he let out was one of pure disbelief. He looked me in the eyes, and for the first time, I couldn't see the gold. Just anger. And frustration. And hurt.
"If there wasn't a storm in New York, I would be now. So don't give me that shit. Ask what you want to ask and then go."
I felt like I just got pushed into ice-cold water.
"What happened? You seemed distracted."
"Oh, you know, I have a test tomorrow."
"Was it because of me?"
I just blurted that out. He didn't seem to have expected it either.
"Wha-No. I mean in a way, maybe."
"What happened?"
He closed his eyes and let out a breath.
"I went to the after-party and I was kind of pissed at you, but I figured it wasn't that big of a deal considering this wasn't even one of our bigger fights."
But it felt big.
"Then people started coming up to me, congratulating me on the game, and almost every single one of them called me lucky in some way. Oh, you seem to be on a lucky streak, or that beginner's luck sure seems to be working for you."
"So? I am pretty sure I've said much worse things to you."
"Yeah. But you've never made me feel like I was just a fluke."
Oh.
"You aren't a fluke."
"Today, I didn't prove it wrong."
His voice broke at the end. I knew how much this championship meant to him. It was something he always wanted. I scooted closer.
"You had a bad game, that's expected."
"I don't care. What if they are right?"
I brushed his hair away from his face. His breath stuttered, but he didn't move away. I wasn't sure why I did it, it just felt right.
"You wouldn't be on this team if you were a fluke. Scouts wouldn't have looked at you twice if you were a fluke. And I wouldn't be here, trying to convince you that you aren't a fluke if you were one."
He gave me a small smile.
"Thanks."
"You have three days until the semi-finals. I hope you get your head out of your ass by then."
I squeezed his shoulder and stood up. His proximity was making me feel nervous. I had to get out of there.
"Will you be here?"
"Do you want me to be?"
"Does it matter? You don't do things, because I want you to."
"I'll see."
He stood up as well and my eyes didn't leave his.
"What did I say?"
I knew immediately what he was referring to. And I really wanted to lie to him, but I just couldn't bring myself to when he was standing this close to me, with so much vulnerability on his face.
"Something vaguely romantic. And I panicked. I thought you wanted our relationship to change."
"Oh. Yeah, sorry, that wasn't intentional. I like what we have."
"And you are going back to Korea after this anyway."
"Yes, exactly. So it wouldn't make sense for you and me to try being...us."
"Right."
"Right."
We stayed there silent for a moment when he leaned in and kissed me.
I missed him and seeing how desperately he was kissing me, he must have missed me as well. I traced his cheekbone with my thumb when he pulled away.
"Want to get dinner?"
"Sure."
"Cool. You're paying."
"Why?"
"Because I am a feminist and you are a billionaire."
I rolled my eyes and chuckled.
"Fine."