Chapter 165

Chapter 165
Katie

The days after birthday blurred together. I went back to my routine—classes at Stanford, training at Black Ridge Club, the usual grind—but something had shifted. Like tectonic plates settling after an earthquake.

Lucas was gone more than he was there, shuttling between Berkeley and family obligations. I told myself I didn't notice. Didn't track the days between his appearances at the club. Didn't feel that hollow sensation in my chest when I walked through the doors and he wasn't there.

I was fine. Completely fine. Definitely not checking my phone every five minutes.

The club had gotten weird around me after Phoenix. Ave and the crew still trained with me, still followed my instructions, but the easy teasing had evaporated. They knew something had changed between Lucas and me—the whole damn club knew—but nobody was making jokes anymore. It was like they'd collectively decided to give us space without an audience.

Which was ridiculous, because there was nothing to figure out. Lucas and I were just... what? Friends who'd almost kissed in an elevator? Two people trying to exist in the same orbit without combusting?

I was drilling takedowns with Marcus when Lucas finally showed up on a Tuesday in early January. Three days gone—not that I'd been counting—and the moment he walked through those doors, I felt it like a shock. My body knew before my brain caught up, muscles tensing, pulse kicking.

"Katie." His voice cut through the noise. "Got a minute? I could use a sparring partner."

Marcus took one look at us and found somewhere else to be. The rest of the club suddenly got very interested in their own training.

"Sure," I said, aiming for casual. "I can go another round."

We moved to an empty mat. Lucas had gotten better over the past months—cleaner, more economical. Still not at my level, but getting there.

"Your weight's off," I said as we circled. "You're telegraphing the takedown."

He adjusted immediately, and we engaged. It was supposed to be light work, but there was something else underneath—something that made every point of contact feel charged. Lucas's hands on my wrists. My palm against his chest. The heat of his body when we grappled close.

"Better," I said after he defended one of my throws. "But you're still dropping your right shoulder—"

He shot in faster than I expected, and suddenly I was defending. We scrambled, and then somehow we were on the ground with him underneath me, my hands pinning his shoulders, our faces inches apart.

Time stopped.

Lucas looked up at me, chest heaving, eyes dark. His pulse hammered against my palm above his collarbone. I could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell that mix of cologne and something else that made my hindbrain sit up and pay attention.

"Katie," he said quietly, his voice rough. "I need to tell you something."

I should have moved. Should have put distance between us. But I couldn't make my muscles cooperate.

"What?"

"I like you." Three words, absolute certainty. "I've tried not to. Tried to give you space, tried to be patient. But I can't keep pretending I'm okay with just friendship when I'm not. I like you, Katie. I want you. And I need you to know that."

My breath caught. The gym felt impossibly hot. Lucas's eyes held mine, unflinching.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. "Lucas—"

"You don't have to say anything." His hands came up to rest lightly on my hips, barely touching. "I just needed you to know. No pressure. Just the truth."

Something cracked open in my chest. I could feel it spreading, warm and terrifying.

"I—" My voice came out hoarse. "I need to think."

"Okay." His thumb traced a small circle against my hip. "Take all the time you need."

I scrambled up, suddenly desperate for space. Lucas let me go, just watched as I grabbed my water bottle with shaking hands.

"I should—shower. Yeah."

Lucas nodded, still on the mat. "Katie?"

I paused.

"Thank you. For not running away this time."

My throat felt tight. I managed a nod, then fled before I could do something stupid like tell him the truth—that I hadn't run because I couldn't. Because something had shifted in Phoenix, and now putting distance between us felt physically painful.

---

The club started planning a trip in early January. "South America," Ave announced. "Chile. Best skydiving in the world, and it's summer down there right now."

"I'm in," I said immediately. Throwing myself out of a plane sounded perfect—simple, clean, just gravity and wind.

"Lucas is handling logistics," Ave added too casually. "Since he's got the jet and all."

Of course he was.

"Fine. Whatever."

Ave gave me a look. "You know you're not fooling anyone, right?"

"I don't—"

"Katie. We all saw Phoenix. The way you looked at him during that piano performance? You two are so far past 'just friends' it's not even funny."

I took a long drink of coffee. "It's complicated."

"Love usually is."

"I didn't say anything about love."

"You didn't have to." Ave bumped my shoulder. "Maybe stop fighting it so hard? See what happens?"

I stared into my cup. "I'll think about it."

---

The flight to Chile was torture. Lucas had arranged his family's private jet, which put us side by side in the front row, Ave and the others scattered behind us.

"Convenient," I muttered, buckling in.

His lips twitched. "I may have made a few requests."

"Lucas." He shifted to face me. "I meant what I said at the club. No pressure. But I'm not going to pretend I don't want to be near you. Is that okay?"

The honest question got me. It would be so easy to push him away. But Ave's words echoed—maybe stop fighting it so hard.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "It's okay."

Something bright flashed in his eyes, but he just nodded and settled back. His arm rested on the armrest between us, close enough to feel his warmth. Not touching, but there.

Behind us, I could hear whispers. Definitely about us. But for once, I didn't care. Let them talk.

I dozed off somewhere over the equator. When I woke, the cabin was dim, most lights off. My head had drifted onto Lucas's shoulder, and his hand had found mine, fingers loosely tangled.

I stared at our joined hands, pulse racing. This was dangerous. This was exactly what I'd been trying to avoid. But I couldn't remember why I'd been fighting so hard.

Lucas glanced down. Our eyes met in the dim light. Neither of us moved.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey."

"Sleep okay?"

"Yeah." I should move. Should reclaim my space. But I didn't. "You?"

"Haven't yet." His thumb traced my wrist. "Didn't want to miss this."

"Miss what?"

"You. Letting your guard down." His eyes held mine. "It doesn't happen often."

My breath caught. "Lucas—"

"Katie." His voice dropped lower. "I know you're scared. I know I've given you reasons to be. But I need you to know something." He paused. "I've been working with a therapist since Phoenix. Three times a week. Dealing with the control issues, the PTSD, all of it. Because I don't want to be the person who makes you feel trapped. I want to be someone you choose. Not because you have to, but because you want me."

My chest cracked open. "You're in therapy?"

"Three times a week. Turns out I have a lot to work through."

"Lucas—"

The plane hit turbulence. His hand tightened on mine reflexively, and I squeezed back without thinking.

When it passed, the moment had broken. Lucas released my hand with obvious reluctance.

"We should sleep," I said. "Long day tomorrow."

Lucas nodded, but his gaze stayed on me. "Katie? I meant what I said. I like you. And I'm willing to wait as long as it takes."

I didn't answer. Just closed my eyes while my mind raced and my heart hammered and everything I'd been denying came crashing down.

Because the truth was, I didn't need to figure out if I felt the same.

I already knew.

I was just terrified of what that meant.