Conflicted

“I get it,” I mutter. I know better than anyone how hard life can suck.

Lacey watches me through narrowed eyes, her expression suspicious. She takes my hands in hers and squeezes them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think about your mum.”

“It’s okay,” I sigh. It’s more than just what happened with Mum—so much more—and I’m sure Lacey suspects as much. But I can’t tell her any of that without telling her everything—something I’m not ready to do. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to tell her everything. “Don’t let it get you down. Maybe you’re better off without this internship. You work way too hard as it is. Maybe you need to take this as a sign that you need to slow down.”

We are complete opposites, yet so similar. We’re both trying to escape our pasts in completely different ways. She pours everything into her schoolwork while I do everything I can to distract myself from life. It’s like we’re on different routes to the same destination.

“Maybe,” Lace repeats, her tone uncertain. “I don’t have the luxury of having all my fees paid for, Lucas. If not this internship, I still need to work over the break.”

The only thing I ever received from my father was a trust fund covering my college tuition. It was basically an assurance that I would stay out of his life. It was a fair trade.

Lacey winces. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded—”

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “I know you need the cash, but an internship is going to be much harder than working in a coffee shop.”

“And much more rewarding,” she argues. “Look, I see what you’re trying to do, but it doesn’t change the fact that I screwed myself out of a great opportunity. Working in a coffee shop isn’t going to stand out on my resume like this would’ve.”

I open my mouth to say something but then close it again. I can’t argue with that. “You’re right. So wait and see. Who knows, maybe you will get it.” I shrug, and Lacey rolls her eyes and I laugh. “Think positive for once, Lace.”

“Sure,” she says, plastering a fake smile on her face. “I’ve got this, right?”

I leave Lacey a few hours later feeling much better about everything. In a couple of days, I’ll be able to relax and forget I ever heard his name. Aaron who? He can fuck off out of my life just like he’s done every other time. This all just a coincidence. I actually believe myself this time, because the interview wouldn’t have gone to shit if this was about me. Things will be back to normal soon.

All I have to do is keep myself calm until then.

Chapter Eight

Lacey

“Shit!” I grab hold of my big toe and dance around the living room in pain as I glare at the offending door that just clobbered my toe. The phone rings again, reminding me why I was running inside in the first place.

It’s Saturday morning, three days past the most disastrous interview of my life, and I’m frantically searching for my phone, which I have once again misplaced. I locate it under a pile of clothes on the couch.

“Hello?” I ask, breathless and panting through the pain.

“Hi, Lacey? It’s Rebecca Martin here, Aaron Wilmot’s assistant? We met the other day.”

“Right,” I say, still panting. My heart races. Would she be calling everyone, or just who they chose? I take a breath, not letting myself get excited.

“Aaron asked me to call you and let you know your internship application was successful,” she says, her voice cheerful. “You start on Monday, at eight thirty a.m.”

“Wow, thank you,” I gasp, sinking onto the couch. I want to squeal, I’m so excited. My thoughts switch from holy shit, I got it, I actually did it to what the hell is he thinking, choosing me?

My heart be

gins to pound as I realise what this means: eight hours a day, five days a week working alongside Aaron Wilmot. The Aaron Wilmot. For six whole weeks. I can’t even begin to think about the bigger picture yet, because if I do I’ll lose the plot completely.

I hear a distant chatter and my eyes widen. Holy shit, she’s still on the phone. I lift it to my ear and hope I haven’t missed any important information.

“Congratulations, and I’ll see you Monday.”

I sigh with relief and end the call. I have to tell someone. My hands shake as I dial Lucas. I need to tell someone, and he’s always my first port of call when I have news—good or bad. It’s not like I can call my parents and expect them to be happy.

As I wait for Lucas to answer, I’m shocked at how nervous I am to share my news. I just want someone to assure me that this internship is a good thing, and Lucas’s reaction could go either way. I have no idea what’s been bothering him lately, but there’s something off about him.

“Hello?” Lucas’s deep, husky voice cuts through my thoughts.

“I got it. Holy crap, he actually chose me!” I laugh hysterically as I rub my forehead, unable to wipe the dopey smile off my face. I can’t believe it.