Chapter 20~ I Never Asked For This

Nina blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Her brain struggled to process what she had just heard, the words echoing in her mind like a half-remembered dream.

"What…?"

The word escaped as barely more than a confused whisper.

"What did you say?"

But Lucas didn't repeat himself. Instead, he simply studied her for another long moment, his expression unreadable in the dim kitchen light.

Then he stepped back.

The movement was subtle, almost imperceptible, yet it felt like someone breaking free from a strange spell, or perhaps retreating from the edge of something neither of them was ready to name.

The air between them shifted, grew cooler somehow.

Nina cleared her throat awkwardly, heat creeping up her neck and flooding her cheeks with embarrassment. She could feel the warmth spreading across her face, betraying every confused emotion swirling inside her.

Her eyes darted frantically around the tiny kitchen, searching desperately for something… anything, to anchor her attention.

The refrigerator with its humming motor. The sink with a single glass sitting in it. The counter with its scattered crumbs from dinner.

Anywhere but him.

Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, her gaze drifted right back to Lucas like a compass finding north.

And unfortunately… devastatingly, really, he was still shirtless.

The kitchen light cast shadows across his bare torso, highlighting every line and curve in a way that made her mouth go dry.

She coughed lightly, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Ahem…"

She gestured vaguely toward his chest, her hand wavering in the air before dropping back to her side.

"I thought I gave you a shirt earlier," she managed, forcing her voice to sound casual despite the flutter in her chest. "What happened to it?"

Lucas glanced down at himself as if only just remembering he was half-dressed, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.

"Oh."

His voice remained calm, maddeningly so.

"I was warm."

He gestured toward the kitchen with one hand, the movement drawing her attention to the lean muscles of his arm.

"So I took it off and came to get some water."

Nina winced slightly, heat creeping up her neck.

"Oh."

Right.

Of course he was warm.

Her air conditioning unit had been broken for two weeks now, and every repair estimate she'd received made her want to cry. Another reminder of just how broke she was, how precarious her situation had become. Her small apartment suddenly felt even smaller, the walls pressing in on her like a physical weight.

This place is a rat hole, she thought bitterly, avoiding his gaze.

I really need to get my life together.

Fast.

She turned quickly and opened the refrigerator, the cool air washing over her flushed face as she grabbed a bottle of water and a glass. Her hands trembled slightly as she poured, the sound of liquid hitting glass unnaturally loud in the quiet kitchen.

Pour.

Drink.

The first glass disappeared in seconds, the cold water doing nothing to ease the knot of anxiety in her chest.

She poured another, aware of his eyes on her. Then another. By the time she finished, the bottle was empty and her stomach felt uncomfortably full.

Lucas watched quietly, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

Finally Nina set the empty bottle down with more force than necessary and clapped her hands together lightly, the gesture awkward and forced.

"Well!" Her voice sounded overly bright, even to her own ears. She forced a polite smile that felt like it might crack her face. "It was nice chatting with you."

"You've had a long day," she continued, the words tumbling out faster now. "And so have I."

She gestured toward the hallway with a sweeping motion that was meant to be casual but came across as slightly desperate.

"So I'm going to head back to bed," she said, then added firmly, leaving no room for argument, "You should do the same."

She turned to leave, already mentally rehearsing her escape plan.

The strategy seemed foolproof: check on Ethan, burrow under the blankets, and convince herself that tonight had been nothing more than a fever dream.

She had barely taken two steps when a hand gently caught her wrist. The touch was warm, deliberate… not forceful, but impossible to ignore.

Before she could process what was happening, Lucas guided her toward the living room. His movements were fluid, almost practiced, as if he'd anticipated her retreat.

"What—?" The question died on her lips.

The next thing she knew, she was sitting beside him on the couch, the leather cool against her legs. Her brain short-circuited, struggling to piece together the last five seconds. One moment she'd been halfway to the hallway; the next, she was here, close enough to catch the faint scent of his cologne, something woodsy and understated.

"How did I end up here?" she asked, though the answer was obvious.

Lucas leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees. The posture made him seem vulnerable somehow, less guarded than usual. He turned his head just enough to meet her eyes.

"Sit with me," he said, and it wasn't quite a request.

His voice emerged quiet, almost fragile in the stillness.

"I can't sleep."

Nina stared at him, searching his face for some explanation. The shadows under his eyes told a story he wouldn't speak aloud… how many nights had he spent like this, alone in the dark?

She opened her mouth to argue, to remind him that she wasn't his comfort object, that this wasn't part of their arrangement, but the words never came.

Instead, she found herself sinking onto the couch beside him, drawn by something she couldn't name. Her fingers twisted nervously together in her lap, a habit from childhood that surfaced whenever uncertainty crept in.

I never asked for this, she thought, the refrain echoing through her mind like a prayer. I never asked for any of this.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy with unspoken things. She could hear his breathing, steady and measured, could feel the warmth radiating from his body despite the careful distance he maintained.

Finally, she released a soft sigh. "Well... I'm here." She glanced sideways at him, studying the sharp line of his jaw, the way his shoulders held tension even in repose. "What do you want?"

Lucas didn't answer immediately. He seemed to be weighing his words, choosing them with unusual care.

Then he simply lifted a finger to his lips. "Shh."

The gesture was gentle, almost tender. His voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. "I just want you beside me."

Nina's frown deepened, confusion mingling with something dangerously close to concern. "That's it?" The question came out softer than she'd intended, lacking the edge she'd meant to give it.

Lucas leaned back against the couch, his gaze drifting toward the dim apartment ceiling. The shadows played across his features, making him look younger somehow, stripped of the armor he usually wore.

For a moment, he looked strangely tired, not physically exhausted, but weary in a way that went deeper, settling into the bones.

Then he spoke again, his voice barely disturbing the quiet. "I want you beside me." The repetition felt like a confession, like admitting to a need he'd rather not acknowledge.