I don't see Lucas until Wednesday when I show up to the Bennett residence for work. On Monday, Bridget and I were out all day meeting with the live band so that we could review the playlist for the gala. A lot of Michael Bublé, Tony Bennett, and Whitney Houston. But who doesn't like music from some of the greats?

I'm standing inside the house when I spot him through the window sitting outside. He's laying upwards on one of the lounge chairs with his AirPods in. I don't want to bother him, but I've been thinking long and hard about what I want. I don't know what, or if, anything will happen between me and Lucas, but I've come to realize that I rather take the risk of living in the unknown if it means being honest with him, and more importantly, with myself.

I slowly approach him but his eyes are closed so he doesn't see me coming. I contemplate tapping him on the shoulder but I don't want to startle him, so I stop a few feet away from where he's sitting and call out, "Hey," hoping that my tone is loud enough for him to hear.

I know that it is when he removes his AirPods from his ears and leans his body forward. "Hey," he says, but the sound of his voice immediately tells me that something's wrong.

And it's not just his voice that tells me something's going on with him. It's the way that he lowers his body down like he's not interested in having a conversation. It's the way that he goes back to closing his eyes. It's the way that he's not acting like the same guy who kissed me two nights ago.

I make my way closer to him, and I can see that he's trying so hard to relax his body, even though he appears anything but relaxed. He doesn't leave me much space to sit beside him on the lounge chair, but I find room for myself.

He watches me sit, a look of frustration on his face, and now I really know that something's wrong, but that doesn't stop me from trying to talk to him.

"Your mom told me you went to Nantucket with Teddy on Sunday. How was it?"

"Good," he says, not giving me anything more than just that one word.

"Do anything fun while you were there?"

"Not really," he purses his lips together and shakes his head.

I look him over, squinting my eyes to try and read him better. "Everything okay? You seem...different."

"Everything's fine, Lily," he tells me otherwise, and it's the way that he pronounces my full name like that that unsettles me.

"If this is about my reaction to you kissing me..."

"Kissing you was a mistake," he interjects, cutting me off before I can even tell him how I really felt about it. How I loved the way that he kissed me. How all I want him to do is kiss me again.

I look down at my legs, trying to figure him out. Does he want me? Does he not? Are there feelings there?

"It didn't feel like one," I finally whisper.

"Well, it was. I regret it," he states and I'm trying so hard to find any sort of dishonesty in his features because if he is being honest right now, I can't promise you that my heart won't break.

"You don't mean that," I say, shaking my head.

"I do," he refutes, his expression stone-cold and serious.

"Lucas, I felt it," I begin, and I notice him look at me nervously. "I feel it. I feel something for you. And maybe I was pushing it off in the beginning, when you were trying to pursue it, but that's only because you scare me."

"Lily," he tries to stop me, but I keep going.

"And maybe it's okay for me to feel scared. Maybe I need to break out of this safezone that I've created for myself, thinking that it's helping me when, really, it's just hurting me."

"Lily," he says again.

"But I like you Lucas. And I want to be with you."

"Lil, stop," he shouts and I jolt at the harshness of his tone. Before either one of us can say anything else, the back door slides open and my head moves in that direction.

Candace steps outside in a white bikini top and a white jean miniskirt, and I turn back to Lucas, confused.

She makes her way right in front of us, planting a kiss on Lucas's lips when she gets to him. In front of my face – might I add – as if I'm not sitting two inches away from him. And he lets her.

I gulp.

She pulls back and then sneers at me. "What's going on over here?" she asks, and Lucas glares at me, sucking his cheeks in.

"Nothing," he states, and I look down at the floor again, trying to process what the hell is actually going on.

Candace takes the lounge chair beside Lucas and now I really feel like the third wheel, so I stand up. Lucas watches my motion but doesn't say anything.

"Can we talk?" I ask, peering down at him.

"Sure," he says, but there's condescendence to his tone.

"In private."

"Anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of Candace," he says like she's his girlfriend or something. I notice the prideful smirk on Candace's face. I'm sure she loves hearing that one.

"You're a real asshole, you know that?" I say, trying to balance my tone between calm and assertiveness.

"I've been telling you that from the start, Lil," Lucas says. "Not my fault you didn't want to take the warning."

Who am I talking to right now? This isn't Lucas speaking. Yes, he's a dick, but this is another level. He tells me that he wants to be with me and then he takes it away just like that because he thinks he can? Not in my book, Lucas Bennett. Not in my book.

"I was so wrong about you," I chuckle obnoxiously, hoping that the comment stings. I don't want to hurt Lucas but, at the same time, he needs a wakeup call.

"Guess so," he plays along, and all I do is shake my head. I look at Candace, who's watching and loving this whole exchange, and then fix my eyes back on Lucas.

"You know what? You two are perfect for each other," I say, glaring at him. His expression transforms into disappointment, but I know that it's not at me. He's mad at himself.

I give him one more stare before turning my back to him and making my way for the door. I hate the part of me right now that wishes for him to call out to me; to stop me. I hate that he doesn't actually do it even more.