“Nothing. We’re nothing because I ended it after only seeing him a few times. I ended the gig because I had to protect my heart and knew he wouldn’t want me for anything more than my time to keep him company.” I grazed my top teeth over my bottom lip. “He seemed lonely, Lucas. So lonely, and maybe that was another reason I was stuck on him. We matched. Before meeting you, and now Kylo, I didn’t have anyone I could call a friend. Yes, we had the others we caught up with through college, but to me, they were only acquaintances.”

“I agree,” he said.

“I had to end things.”

“It sounds like you made the right choice.”

“Then why do I feel like running back to his place and seeing him?”

Lucas smiled sadly. “You miss him.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. Shaking my head, I moved on. “Anyway, it was when I spoke to Kylo about what I should do about the client, when he blurted out about Saint. I was sure it was to make me feel better.” I chuckled halfheartedly. Thinking of Adrik had my mind locking on to him, and even then, I wanted to see him.

I missed him, which made no sense since I hardly knew him.

“How about we go get our books, and while we study, you can eat one of those chocolate muffins I made.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I smiled, but I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. I felt too twisty on the inside for anything real. It was ridiculous and something a teenager would be like after a breakup. I hadn’t broken up with anyone, really, so I was acting this way for nothing. I had to stop.

I had to.

Chapter Seven

Adrik

Six long and fucking tiring weeks, and I still hadn’t gone after who I wanted. I blamed work, parents, but also the fact how he seemed happy. I could tell from the photographic proof sitting on my desk on my kitchen counter in front of me. I had lost count of the times I brought these out to look at. Like some stalker. Except, even when I tried to throw them away after seeing his smile, witnessing his happiness, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

My not seeking him out had nothing to do with the concern of rejection.

“Motherfucking stubborn ass,” I mumbled to myself in Russian. I was weak, too worried he would not want me. I worried where I should have been taking control and seeing him, telling him I wanted him in my life.

I picked an image up and brought it closer. It was of West leaving Polished with security following him, but he’d stopped near his car and looked off in the distance, as if seeing someone he knew.