Drawn To You (Taking Chances #3) (12 page)

BOOK: Drawn To You (Taking Chances #3)
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She sighed. If only their chemistry wasn’t so strong. All it took was for him to glance her way and she was like a teenager again being kissed outside the school gym. Nothing else made her feel so alive. Not even the pair of Jimmy Choo heels she had been eyeing online lately. But she had learned the hard way that attraction could only take a relationship so far. She was done chasing a guy who had no patience for her. Her best bet was to avoid Lucas. With Lucy as her student, however, there was no way of avoiding him completely. She could only put on a happy face and hope he didn’t sense her feelings for him. Feelings which had been both a blessing and a curse the last month.

She walked over to the far end of the office where a wooden easel stood. She slowly turned it around, being careful not to disturb the canvas. The pungent smell of turpentine with a hint of herbs filled the air. Bright hues of pinks and blues stood out among the brushstrokes, creating a contrast of colors and textures. A wet sheen still covered the paint, but given another week, it would be fully dry.

She smiled as she thought about the weeks she had spent on this painting. It had been so long since she sat in front of an easel that it took her a little while to get used to holding a brush again. But once she began mixing the paints, her muscle memory and creative juices took over. After that, she got lost in the process of pouring her heart out onto the canvas.

It was her best work yet and her first finished piece since leaving Paris. If she was lucky, it wouldn’t be her last. She had a feeling she had finally found her muse.

- - -

“Sam? Are you there?” Lucas knocked on the studio door, grateful to see a glimmer of light shining through the glass pane. He heard footsteps approach, then the
click
of a lock.

Sam stood at the door in a simple white T-shirt, grey shorts and sneakers. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she reminded him of the girl who made faces at him in PE class. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I brought you some of my mother-in-law’s meatloaf. It was getting late, so I thought you might be hungry.”

“I was going to grab a burger, but this is too good to pass up. Thanks. Do you want to come in?”

Lucas stepped inside and handed the container to Sam, along with a fork wrapped inside a napkin. “How’s the clean up going? Need a hand with anything?”

“No, I just finished. It took over an hour, but everything’s back to normal.”

“Good. You can eat then.”

“Yep. Thanks again for this. It’s still warm.”

He nodded. “Do you mind if I stay a while?”

Sam eyed him for a moment before responding. “Sure, if you want to.”

Lucas followed her to the office and joined her on the futon. He crossed one ankle on his knee, his foot shaking nervously in place. He sat for a few minutes listening to the clink of metal against glass as Sam ate. He sensed Sam’s eyes on him, and he squeezed out a lopsided smile. The last time he remembered being so nervous was the day he proposed to Lauren. This was hardly a proposal, but the fear of rejection still lingered in the back of his mind.

“Are you okay?” Sam paused with the fork halfway to her mouth. “You look a little green. It’s not this meatloaf, is it?”

“No, no, the meatloaf’s fine. I’m just not good at this.”

“If you mean making conversation, then I completely agree. You could at least talk about the weather. Anything would be more interesting than sitting in silence.”

He chuckled. If Sam was good at anything, it was helping him to not take himself so seriously. “Do you remember when we ran laps in PE? You always tried to outrun me.”

“What do you mean tried to? I totally beat you plenty of times.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but I let you win. I was on the cross country team. We used to run a couple of miles a day. One mile was nothing for me.”

A look of amusement appeared on Sam’s face. “You think I didn’t know that?”

“You knew?”

“Of course. Guys do stuff like that when they like—” She ended her sentence with a shake of her head. “Why’re you bringing this up?”

“Because I don’t want to race you anymore. I’d rather you win.”

“I’m not following.”

“I’m trying to apologize. You said you wanted to leave our fight in the past, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Our friendship means too much to me to just let it go. Hear me out.”

Sam set the container of food on the floor and turned to face him. “Go on.”

“First of all, the things you said about me at church—you were right.” With the hardest part of his speech over, he released a deep breath. “I didn’t like hearing the truth, so I went into defensive mode. That’s why I lashed out at you.”

“Excuse me?”

The smirk on her face, one he was familiar with since high school, drove him crazy in so many ways. “You want me to say it again, don’t you?”

“Can you blame me? It’s not every day Lucas Choi admits he’s wrong about something.”

If he could get away with sticking his tongue out like Sam did, now would be the time he’d do it. “Fine. I’ll say it again. You were right.”

“Music to my ears. Go on. Tell me what I was right about. Please.”

“Only because you said please,” he quipped, then sobered as he continued. “You were right when you called me a hypocrite. I thought I was better than you, that somehow I had my act together and you didn’t.”

Sam shrugged. “I get that a lot.”

“The thing is, I don’t. I’ve been struggling ever since Lauren died. People keep telling me I’ll learn to deal with my new life, but I have no idea how to. When you showed up, you confirmed again how much I’ve failed.”

Sam blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You understand Lucy better than I do. You got her to talk and open up and laugh again. It was incredible how she came alive. I was so grateful for what you did, but I couldn’t accept why you could reach her and I couldn’t.” His shoulders sagged in defeat. “I’d never failed at anything before. I was the one who got straight A’s, followed all the rules, never got into trouble. I’d always done things the right way. But there you were, doing things I would never do, and being a better parent to my daughter than I was,” he winced. “It was hard for me to swallow.”

“That’s always been your problem, Lucas. You’re too hard on yourself. Nobody expects you to be perfect, not even God. Stop trying to be. It’s okay to mess up. Trust me, I do it all the time.”

“But I messed up big that day. I wish I could take back what I said. I hurt you, Sammie. I’m sorry.”

She was quiet for a moment, busying herself with a piece of thread unraveling from the cushion. “The stuff you said wasn’t that far from the truth. I’ve heard it all before from my family. I wasn’t surprised you thought the same way.”

He stretched out his arm on the back of the futon until his hand covered hers. Her fingers stilled at his touch, and she looked up. “No, what I said was a distorted version of who you are. I was frustrated and took it out on you. The real you is brave, adventurous. You’re passionate about your work and the people in your life. You know how to have fun. You try to see the best in people, even me. I’m a better person for knowing you.”

“What about the part where I drive you crazy?”

“Oh, that part’s true. You’re the only one who calls me on my B.S., so of course you drive me crazy. But I love that about you.” Here it was, time to go for broke. He was done living with regret. “I love
you
, Sammie. I always have. You’re everything I never thought I wanted, but I absolutely need.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I’m saying I want you in my life. I need you. Lucy needs you, too. Our lives are better with you in it. Please give us a chance. Give me another chance.” He waited for her response, only to watch her turn away. Her long locks shielded her face from view. Was it too late? Was she unwilling to give him a second chance? “Sammie?”

She looked up suddenly with tears streaming down her face. “Stop talking! My mascara’s running,” she sniffed, “and I’m going to look like a mess.”

With the pads of his thumbs, he gently wiped away her tears. Even with her red tipped nose and black streaks running down her cheeks, she took his breath away. “Hey, you’re a beautiful mess.”

Sam answered him with a grateful smile. “You really want me?”

“I want
you
, Sam. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. I thought you’d moved on. You didn’t seem to care about me anymore.”

“If I had moved on, I wouldn’t have done this.” She walked over to the easel and turned it around. “You and Lucy were all I could think about.”

Lucas stood up, speechless. Before him was a painting of him and Lucy the day they had visited Sam and brought her breakfast. He was kneeling before his daughter with one hand on the hem of her shirt as he tugged it over her round belly. Their eyes were fixed on each other in a shared smile. “You did that? It’s amazing.”

“I couldn’t get the memory out of my head. Once I started, it just flowed onto the canvas, like someone opened up a dam. It turned out exactly how I wanted it to.”

“I love it. The expressions—were those from memory, too?”

“Of course. Your faces were the easiest to paint. Why?”

“It looks like a special moment between a dad and his daughter. I didn’t know Lucy looked at me that way.”

Sam wrapped her arms around him, her eyes wet again. “You big dork. Of course she does. You’re her dad. She loves you.”

He wiped his face and exhaled. “I believe that now. Thank you. You really help me see things differently. I’m so glad you didn’t forget about me.”

“Oh, I tried, but I couldn’t get you out of my head. It was like having a song stuck on repeat. A good song”— she smiled and pulled him close—“but it was still annoying.”

“You better get used to it then ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.” Leaning down, he brought his mouth to hers, allowing his lips to drink in a mixture of salty tears and sweet pleasure. It was the best kiss he had shared with Sam so far.

She pulled back suddenly, worry darkening her eyes. “What about my past, the stuff I did in Paris? You can’t be okay with that.”

“Do I wish it was different? Sure, I do. Only because I want to protect you. I hate the thought of you being caught up in a bad situation.”

“Then you probably don’t want to know how I got the money to pay for my furniture.”

The muscle in his jaw tightened. “Probably not, but tell me anyway.”

Sam looked down at her hands before meeting his eyes again. Her expression appeared worried, almost pained. “I met this guy Jacques through that site I told you about. He was thirty-eight, from a wealthy family that owned a big winery. He was also married, something I didn’t find out about until a year after we’d been together. He told me some sob story about his parents arranging the marriage as part of a business deal and that he was going to leave his wife. But he never did. If it wasn’t for Mel talking some sense into me, I would’ve stayed with him. When I finally stopped being in denial, I got mad. I gave him an ultimatum. Either he paid me a lot of money or I would tell his wife about us. So, he gave me twenty-five thousand dollars. That’s when I came back to the U.S.”

“And how you got the money for your studio.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t one of my finest moments, but it is what it is. I thought about returning the money, but I promised never to contact him again.

“That’s probably for the better. What’s done is done.” Shaking his head in disbelief, he tried to digest the story. It was a lot messier than he’d expected. “I’m glad you left him.”

“I wasted so much time believing his lies. I never would have dated him if I’d known he was married. You know that, right?”

He looked into Sam’s eyes and saw a vulnerability there that she usually kept hidden away. “Of course. I know you, Sam.” He took her hands in both of his. “I may not agree with how you handled things, but part of me likes the fact that you didn’t let him off the hook. He really didn’t understand who he was dealing with, did he?” He shook his head in pity. “No one messes with my woman and gets away with it.”

“You are a smart man, Lucas Choi.” She placed a kiss firmly on his mouth. “And a good kisser, too. You’ve improved a lot since high school.”

“What? Was I bad before?”

“Well, that kiss outside the gym was a little on the stiff side.”

“Cut me some slack. It was my first time.”

“Mine, too, but at least I put some passion into it.”

“I was your first kiss? I thought you had so much experience. All the guys wanted to go out with you.”

“Oh, I had plenty of offers, but as lame as it sounds”—she rolled her eyes—“I was saving it for someone special. I wanted it to be you.”

“It’s not lame at all,” he said, drawing her into his arms again. “Thank you. I had no idea. Anything else you want to tell me?”

“That’s all.”

“Well, if you’re done confessing, it’s my turn.”

“You, confess?” She narrowed her eyes. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

He paused for emphasis, then announced, “I broke into your locker once.”

“You did what?”

The sight of her cheeks darkening brought him right back to their days in chemistry class. He couldn’t help it; he still enjoyed goading her. “That’s how I knew you had a moldy sandwich in there.”

“You broke into my locker? I could’ve had you suspended!”

“Technically, it wasn’t a real break-in since I knew your combination.”

“How—”

“You dropped the paper with the code written on it. I picked it up before anyone saw it.”

“So you could use it yourself? What were you doing? Let me guess, conducting a health inspection?”

“I left you a letter asking you to the Senior Ball. When I didn’t hear back, I assumed you’d turned me down.”

“Are you sure it was the right locker?”

“It was yours, I’m sure of it. You had the same quote taped to the door that you have on the classroom wall. Something by Picasso.”

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.”

His eyebrows rose in recognition. “That’s the one.”

“I never got the letter.”

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