“Terrible taste,” he murmured again. “What are you fucking with trash for, huh? Pretty little thing like you.” His hand slid over my panties and cupped me, palm rubbing against me, making my breath hitch and a groan burst out of me. “But for your information, I didn’t fuck Veronica.”

I was ashamed of how relieved I felt. I jerked against his hand, his fingers stroking a teasing circle over my clit. I’d fantasized about this so many times. I’d spent so many months imagining myself with him. Only the tiniest amount of self-control had stood between me and this.

I wanted his fingers inside me. I wanted to shove him back and ride his cock until I came.

He held me pinned against the door, forcing another gasp out of me with his rough fingers.

“Isn’t this fucking typical?” he said. “You change your tone the second we’ve got some privacy.”

“Typical…” I could barely get my breath. “Wha-what the hell does that mean?”

He withdrew his hand, leaving me panting against the door in utter confusion as he said, “It means you’re a goddamn hypocrite.”

Instantly, like flicking a switch, my anger flared. But my legs were splayed around him obscenely, my panties damp with the arousal he’d ignited in me. Humiliation flooded me in a fiery wave.

“Excuse me?” My words trembled with adrenaline. “What the fuck are you doing? You can’t just…you can’t…”

“I can’t what?” he hissed. “I can’t stop? I already did. A taste of your own medicine, little ghost.”

I shoved his chest hard, and he laughed as he backed off. “Fuck you,” I muttered. “Seriously, fuck you, Lucas. I’m walking back. This is bullshit —”

I reached for the door handle, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back. “Sorry, sweetheart, but you need to hear this. Don’t act shocked that I’m going to speak my mind. What the fuck is your deal? Here you are hanging out with the same assholes that tried to make our lives hell, but then you want to fuck around with us the second you have us alone.”

He may as well have slapped me. I blinked rapidly, my conflicting emotions choking my words.

“Do you have any idea how much it wrecked Manson when you ghosted?” he said. “He was so scared that he’d fucked up and hurt you, because you couldn’t manage some basic communication.” He shook his head, the disgust evident on his face. “I guess we all thought about it. That we’d pushed you too far.”

“You didn’t.” The words burst out of me so quickly I didn’t even think about what I was saying until it was already out. I’d known ghosting was shitty, but I genuinely hadn’t thought it would make them worry. “None of you hurt me. That night was weird…and amazing…and…” I shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know what to do, okay? The next morning, I...I don’t know. It wasn’t supposed to be a long-term thing.”

He nodded slowly as he took in my words, staring at my hand as it lay on the seat.