ing in my head?
I was half-ready to ask him, “Why do you do this? Treat me like a stranger sometimes then play house with me like we’re married? Why?” But I refrained, obviously. I wanted to try a relationship with Lukas but for now, especially for my first trip back home since leaving, I was grateful to at least play make-believe.
In fact, I was slowly getting excited.
A part of me couldn’t wait to show him off.
22
LUKAS
Lia’s original plan had been to take a three-hour Greyhound. I opted to drive despite the fact that I didn’t own a car. I’d bought an Audi at twenty-five, right when Hendricks-Cameron made it big, but after realizing I never used it, I sold the thing. Now, on the rare occasions that I felt like driving, I rented. Of course, my idea of renting involved no exchange of money. All I did was pop by Julian’s garage on Eleventh Avenue, where he kept a portion of his ridiculous collection of cars and motorcycles.
“This is… actually insane,” Lia said as we walked up a row of shiny cars ranging from vintage Fords to Ferraris, Corvettes and Cadillacs. Julian had them all.
“Trust me, I agree it’s crazy,” I laughed. “But I also sold him this space, so I’m not going to complain.”
Lia’s eyes glittered at me. “What was the commission on that? Can I ask?” When I told her, she choked. “That’s wild. These cars live on better real estate than I ever will in my life,” she murmured, shaking her head. “God, who are your friends, Lukas? What is your life? I hope you’re prepared for the fact that the people you’re about to meet today in Warren are… nothing like this.”
“I’m prepared. Just to remind you, I grew up much more like you. Not Julian.”
She shot a smart look. “Just to remind me? You can’t remind me of something you never told me about.”
“Fair enough.”
“You are going to get talkin’ today, right?”
I smirked. “Yes. Just let me get the damned car first.”
We rode out in a black Range Rover and thankfully traffic wasn’t a complete nightmare. By the time we were riding through the Lincoln Tunnel, Lia was finally done admiring every inch of the car. With a little smile, she turned her attention to me.
“This is fun,” she said. I laughed.
“Already?”
“Yeah. It’s like a road trip. I’ve never taken one before and I’ve always wanted to,” she said, pushing her Ray Bans to the top of her head. I glanced at her and grinned. She looked like summer in a plain white T-shirt tucked into a little tan skirt that flared out. I didn’t know shit about women’s fashion but I was pretty sure Lia was the definition of simple but elegant.
“Why don’t you take a road trip then?” I asked her.
“Because I never got my driver’s license.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I got a learner’s permit but once my mom died, I kind of lost motivation to do anything for awhile,” she said, looking out the window. “And that included getting my license, I guess. I just kind of... existed for a year or so after. I had moments where I was laughing and having genuine fun but for a long time, I wasn’t really there. It was like a part of me died with my mom and I was trying to get to know myself again for awhile after.”
Her words twisted something inside me. “I can understand that. I went through something similar.”
“With your parents?”
“No. They’re both alive,” I said, controlling my urge to add “unfortunately” to the end of that sentence.
“Where are they?”
“Miami.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“You sound surprised.”