Chapter 6
I hastily closed my mouth and swiped a hand across my lips, embarrassed to realize I had actually been drooling.
Lucien: Were you drooling?
Me: Of course not.
Lucien: I don’t believe you.
Me: Well, believe what you want.
I typed with a hint of defensiveness, shame prickling at being caught so off guard.
Me: You look sexy on that desk. And wow, your office is huge.
Lucien: What’s the image of me in your head right now? Give me a vivid description.
Me: Now you’re being naughty.
Lucien: You started it.
Me: How? I was only paying you an innocent—
Lucien: There was nothing innocent about that compliment… especially coming from those sexy lips of yours.
Me: So my lips are the problem?
Lucien: To a certain part of my body, yes.
Me: You’re naughty.
Me: The only image in my head is you on that desk.
Lucien: And you on me.
Me: Perhaps. Maybe even more.
Lucien: Naughty, naughty girl.
Lucien: I’m going to punish you soon for teasing me this badly.
Lucien: Not today though.
Me: Can’t wait, daddy.
I tossed my phone onto the bed and let out a squeal of frustration mixed with excitement. It hit me suddenly—I think I liked him. Really liked him. The realization crashed over me, leaving disbelief in its wake. How could I be falling for someone I wasn’t even sure existed? Someone I knew virtually nothing about? Someone who could so easily be dangerous?
Yet despite the uncertainty, the thrill was undeniable. It was intoxicating to be swept into this whirlwind, even if it was insane.
“Alison, are you in there?” Sarah’s voice pierced through the door.
I scrambled to my feet and rushed to let her in. She breezed inside, a vision of effortless glamour—high boots, a short skirt, a crop top clinging to her curves. Her golden curls framed her face like a halo, giving her the uncanny air of a life-sized Barbie doll.
“How do I look?” Sarah asked, turning with a hopeful expression.
“Perfect. But a touch more shimmering gloss wouldn’t hurt. If you want to glitter, you better shine,” I teased with a grin.
“Oh, girl, you are so right!” she squealed, rummaging through her bag. “Can’t find my gloss.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” I crossed to my vanity, retrieved mine, and carefully applied it to her lips. “Now, press them together. Look.”
Sarah turned to the mirror, her eyes going wide. “Girl, I look amazing!”
“I know, right?” I squealed. “That’s why I’m the baddest girl on the block.”
“You sure are—the baddest friend too, bitch!” Sarah laughed. “We need to move out of this house; it doesn’t fit our aesthetic.”
Oh, I loved her long lashes.
“Girl, you need to tell me where you got those lashes.”
“I will!” She fake-pouted. “But we need to move out of here first.”
“After college. Just one more year. We’ll be badass bitches in a duplex,” I promised.
“I know that’s right. With that millionaire boyfriend of yours buying it for us,” she teased.
“What millionaire boyfriend?” I shot her a glare.
“Jacob,” Sarah laughed.
I scowled. “Stop teasing. And where are you off to looking all hot?”
“To Jacob’s frat party, duh. Did you forget?”
“Oh, that.” I sank onto the bed with a sigh.
“Wait—you’re not dressed? You’re not going?”
“Of course not. Why would I want to go to a party my ex is hosting? Ridiculous.”
“But you planned it with him. It was your idea.”
“That was before the breakup. Now? Hard pass.”
“Allison…” Her voice was gentle, but edged with reproach.
“Sarah, please don’t.” I gave her a look that warned her off.
My phone buzzed. A small smile tugged at my lips—Lucien.
“Is that Lucien distracting you again?” Sarah smirked knowingly.
“Whether or not he is, I wouldn’t have gone,” I admitted, unable to hide my grin. I smacked her ass playfully and kissed her forehead. “I love you, shorty. Now go have fun and leave me to my devices. Please!”
“Stop making me look short!” she pouted, swatting me away.
“You are short,” I laughed, nudging her toward the door. “Now go. I love you.”
When she finally left, I locked the door and darted back to my room, eager to return to Lucien.
Lucien: My office is even bigger than what you see now.
Me: Is he boasting?
Lucien: No. I’d like to show you around sometime.
Me: I’d love that.
Lucien: Now that I’ve shown you a glimpse of where I am… can I get what I desire?
Me: I only thought about talking to you again. Nothing like what you’re imagining.
Lucien: So you didn’t look at my pictures over and over?
Me: Such arrogance.
Lucien: 😉
Me: …Maybe a bit.
Lucien: You’ve surrounded yourself with iron barricades. Slowly, I’ll break through them.
Me: What makes you think that? I have no walls.
Lucien: I’m observant. I know you do.
I swallowed hard, the bitter aftertaste of disappointment burning at the back of my throat. Everything felt like it was unraveling too fast, slipping through my fingers no matter how tightly I tried to hold on. Jacob’s absence was more than just heartbreak—it was an earthquake. The breakup didn’t just split us apart; it fractured my world. His friends, once mine too, now circled him like vultures, leaving me to wander the wreckage alone.
School only sharpened the weight pressing on my chest. Expectations, appearances, the constant demand to be flawless—it was exhausting, suffocating. And underneath it all was the gnawing question of who I even was anymore.
Me: These dating sites rarely give good experiences. It’s best to be careful. To guard your heart.
Lucien: And she says she isn’t smart.
Me: I don’t like to blow my own trumpet.
Lucien: You should learn. Those lips of yours should be doing a lot of blowing.
Me: Blowing, huh?
Lucien: Of trumpet.
Me: Are we still on the same page?
I typed fast, pulse racing. His words were a spell I couldn’t shake—magnetic, intoxicating. I bit my lip, my nervous tell, anticipation fluttering low in my stomach. God, I liked it. I liked him.
Lucien: Of course we are. You guide the pages. I follow.
Me: We both know what you meant by my lips doing the blowing.
Lucien: Of trumpet.
Me: Saying “trumpet” doesn’t make it less dirty.
Lucien: 😂
Me: 😂
Lucien: Maybe you’re the one with the dirty mind.
Me: It’s me now?
Lucien: My point is, I know you’re scared. That’s why you want to know everything about me. More and more and more.
Me: I’m sorry if my questions make you feel that way.
Lucien: It’s fine, baby girl. I understand.
Me: I’m just curious, you know.
Lucien: You’ll get to know all about me soon. Instead of telling you, I’ll show you.
Me: Now that sounds interesting.
Lucien: How about a date tomorrow? So I can give you more than a glimpse into my life.









































