I'm back with a Christmas present, sorry, I was in a little holiday trip, but this will make up for that. This is the end of the little Maya-centric arc I needed. Next... Texas.

KING LUCAS

CHAPTER 30

As Maya Hart walked to Lucas' building she stopped by Cal's side of the block to thank him for selling her paintings in a record time.

"Oh my God, is it true what my eyes are seeing?" Cal said when he spotted Maya a few steps away. "Are you not Maya Hart, upcoming artist?"

She giggled and she gave him a plastic bag with his favorite sandwich from the deli a few blocks away.

"This is a little gift for you, although it doesn't begin to pay for what you did for me." She began, but Cal lifted a hand to stop her.

"Please, kid, with that talent, people would be blind not to buy them." He bit into his sandwich, Maya was delighted. "Plus,–" He said with his mouth full "–Lucas plays a great foreigner."

"What?" Maya asked him, frowning.

"Oh, you know. A tourist comes to my stand, looks at the painting. It's a Hart, she's an upcoming artist from New York, I tell them, I'll give it to you for 50 dollars. Maybe they're not convinced, so Lucas comes in. An original Hart? He asks in a french accent. Yes, I tell him. Meanwhile, this other guy regains his interest." He gave another bite to his sub. "The last I saw was selling at 100 dollars, french Lucas says, I'll give you 40 dollars for it. Now I pretend that I'm going to close the deal with him, but the first guy can't miss this chance, so he offers to pay the 50 right now. Lucas looks disappointed and that's how you play the foreigner."

Maya laughed, imagining Lucas' terrible french accent.

"That's very nice of him." She said, frowning, thinking for a second, how was it that he had so much faith in her abilities, how was he able to make her feel like maybe she had a chance after all of making it as an artist here in New York, a city of dreamers.

"You came to bring me more paintings?" He asked, cleaning his mouth with his sleeve. "They sell like hot bread."

Maya denied with her head, unable to contain her smile.

"No, I just came to thank you." She told him, and explained to him that she was in a hurry and it was getting late, he reminded her that he was always open to sell for her she only had to ask.

Going up in the elevator to Lucas' apartment felt natural by that point, even the doorman greeted her like she lived there.

To her surprise Elizabeth Friar opened the door.

"Maya! I wasn't expecting you." She said, putting on an earring, she was wearing a beautiful black dress with a low cleavage.

"Wow, Ms. Friar, you look amazing." She commented, closing the door behind her. "Are you going out?" It was pretty obvious that she was, but Maya was intrigued.

"Thank you, sweetie–" She entered her room and a few seconds later she came out with a hand bag and her heels. "I have a date."

"Oh, who's the lucky guy?" She asked, probably stepping her boundaries as her son's friend, but it felt right, she had become like a third mother to her.

"He's a coworker, Lucas wasn't very pleased." She replied, and Maya suddenly remembered why she was there, but before the words could leave her mouth, Liz interrupted. "I almost forgot, Lucas is not home."

"Oh, do you know where he is, I really need to talk to him." Maya told her.

"He was pretty upset when he left, I didn't expect him to be so mad about my date." She answered, lacing one of her heels. "My best guess is that he went to the batting cages, they're on 22nd Street."

"Perfect, thanks! I'm going to let you finish getting ready, have fun in your date!" Maya said, walking out of the apartment.

"Bye, sweetie!" She heard before closing the door.

She had texted Lucas several times but got no reply back, she could go to the cages but there was no guarantee that he was still there, but she was okay with that risk.

The trip didn't feel so long, but she was a New Yorker and she was walking everywhere with her mother since she was two.

The place was pretty big, it had ten cages every one separated by a black mesh. She saw Lucas' training bag outside of the third cage. When she saw him, his shirt was marked by sweat, his hair was dripping, it seemed like he had been there for hours, but his movements said otherwise. He hit each ball with the same force as before, every ball ended on the same place, every swing reminded her of a thunderstorm.

She waited for his basket to run out and used that opportunity to gain his attention.

"Hey, Hopalong." She said, louder than the music that was playing. He turned to look at her in disbelief, he frowned.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his eyes traveled to the bag resting on her shoulder. "Is that the frame I gave you?" He cleaned his sweat with a towel before coming closer to her.

"Um, yes..." She took one of the parts out and showed it to him, he lifted his eyebrows. "It kinda broke... Well, Josh broke it..." She looked down, embarrased for his behavior. "I was wondering if you could put it back together."

He grabbed the part and checked the breaking points, some of the little nails were showing.

"He really is a dick." Was the only thing he said. "I'll fix it." He took the bag from her hand, but she put her other hand on top of his, making him look at her face.

"It is so beautiful." She told him, not taking her eyes off of him. He didn't do anything, they stayed there, her hand on top of his. His green orbes travelled to her mouth, her heart beat sped up, but he blinked and took a step back, taking her art bag with him.

"I still have an hour left in here," He said, clearing his throat. "If you're interested." He dried his neck and hair again.

"Uh, sure." She replied, putting her purse next to his training bag, her mind still on the golden spots in his eyes. "Although, I've never done this before."

"That's fine, I'll teach you." He grabbed the bat and handed it to her. "You're right handed so you'll stand on this side." He said, pointing to the square made of tape on the floor. She walked there, still getting used to the weight of the bat in her hand. He stood behind her, she gasped when he put his hands on her hips, he pulled her closer to him, she could feel the heat irradiating from his skin, his breath blowing hot on her ear. "Open your legs a little." He commanded.

"I bet you say that a lot." She quipped, but still did what he said. She heard his soft laugh and felt her hair move as he blew out the hot air, she could see the smile, even though she couldn't see it.

"You hold the bat like this–" His arms went around her, and he showed her which arm went in the bottom and which stayed on top. His hand squeezed her right hand. "Don't soften this grip."

He walked around her, to study her position, he seemed satisfied with his work.

"Okay, now that you're all set, I'll go to the shooter and put it in beginner speed." He picked his bucket of balls and walked to the machine, he pressed a button that she couldn't see. "Oh, I almost forgot." He said, he jogged to his training bag and took a helmet out and put it on her head, tapping it twice. "There you go." He went back to his pitcher spot. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, he dropped one ball into the machine and after a few seconds the ball came flying out. Maya closed her eyes and let the ball pass next to her. She heard Lucas' big laugh.

"Don't be afraid of the ball, it won't kill you, it won't even hit you that hard." He said, pulling his glove down. "Let's try again."

Maya went back to the position Lucas had taught her. She strengthen her right grip and set her mind to swing. This time, when the ball came out, she swang. But she didn't hear anything, the ball hit the back net again.

"That was better, you're overthinking the shot, it's more of an instinct, you just have to get on the right mindset." He said, picking the balls from the floor.

"Well, how do you do it?" She didn't move, her eyes followed him around.

"Huh?" He asked.

"How do you get in the right mindset?" She wondered.

Lucas stopped moving around, he put the ball on the basket and stayed still for a few seconds, thinking. He scratched his neck and stood up, hooking up the bucket to the machince and taking the remote with him. He walked up to her, taking the bat from Maya, not really making eye contact with her.

She moved, understanding that it was his turn to bat. He gave him the remote control that had only one button on it.

"Press it when you're ready." He told her, bending his knees a little and folding his arms naturally.

She waited a few seconds, distracted by him, the she pressed the button. Hit. She pressed it again. Hit.

"How?" Was the only thing she could ask.

"For me, this is my way of letting off some steam." He said, turning to see her. "Every time I'm angry I come here, it's like a therapy session."

Maya's eyes widened, she wasn't expecting that answer, but she never knew what to expect from him. It was like sometimes she knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it and other times he surprised her, being a completely different person.

"Did you come here tonight because of your mom's date?" She asked, before she could stop herself.

"You talked to my mother?" He frowned.

"She was heading out and she told me you were here and that you were pissed." She replied.

"I see, I'm not angry because of that, Jim seems like an okay guy." He paused to look at her. "... My dad called." He looked down at the floor. "He wanted to tell me that he sent my last three support checks all at once... So I don't have to deal with him anymore."

It was the first time that Maya had heard about his father, she guessed that he wasn't in the picture, but besides that she didn't know much else.

"He angers me so much, so I come here and I swing for hours until I can't feel my arms." He added, sitting on the bench, next to her.

She could relate to that, just when she thought that she was finally getting over her father there was always that anger anchoring her from moving on. Maybe she ought to try his therapy.

Maya took the bat from his hands and gave him the remote, she got in position, Lucas seemed happy.

"I just have to be angry?" She asked.

"And look at the ball, you'll feel it. What makes you mad?" He wondered.

"It seems like we share the cause of our misery." He pressed the button, but still no hit, though this time her bat was closer.

"Dig deeper." He said. "What are you afraid of?"

"That he left because of me." Bam. She hit the ball, it went straight to the floor but at least she touched it. She looked at Lucas, he was smiling, like genuinely smiling. She lifted her arms, ready. "I'm angry that he didn't try harder." Hit. "I hate that he changed for his new family, but couldn't change for us." Hit, this time it went over the machine, she was panting. She laughed and jumped around. "Your turn." She offered the bat to him.

Lucas grabbed it, reluctantly, and walked to the base.

"Why do you hate your father?" She asked him this time.

"Because he was there." Hit. "At every game,–" Hit. "–every meeting, every birthday." Hit. "And he would put on this mask of the perfect husband and father." Hit. "And nobody would know the truth." Hit. "He was a selfish,–" Hit. "arrogant,–" Hit. "drunk." Hit. "That couldn't stand having a wife that was smarter than him, so when she made a mistake, she would get–" Hit.

Maya opened her mouth quietly, she stopped, putting the remote to her side.

Lucas' breathing was heavy, he turned to see her with new eyes, they looked tired and beaten.

She stood up and walked to him, she put her arms around his hip and held him tight, it didn't matter that he was sweaty.

Maya finally understood, their fathers were completely different, but he was in pain too. Because she felt the same anger that he did, it wasn't towards their parents, they were angry with themselves. For still caring what their fathers did, no matter how much they had wronged them in the past. That, she could understand.

He was surprised by her hug, it was the first time she had done something similar to showing some actual affection. Her head rested on his chest, he let go of the bat, and brought her closer to him.

"Maya–" He whispered.

She lifted her head to see him, his green eyes seemed grey from where she was standing. What are you thinking? She asked herself.

His hand touched the back of her neck and took her helmet off, he let it fall, clattering with the bat. He used both hands to settle her hair, Maya watched how careful he was with every move, his hands eventually fell to each side of her head and she couldn't do anything but stare at him. His eyes moved around quickly, as he tried to read her thoughts, but he couldn't.

In a matter of seconds he let go of her, his hands falling painfully to his sides, aching from the practice, he stepped back awkwardly, her hands still around him when he broke the hug.

"You're still with him." He said, almost as a whisper, looking at her, he made it sound like a statement but she knew that he was asking her.

Maya couldn't answer, she just had to say no, but there was something stopping her, the same thing that reminded her that hope is for suckers. It was Lucas Friar after all, the guy that almost separated Riley and Maya, the king at manipulating others, then why did she feel so comfortable with him.

Lucas nodded and grabbed his towel from the bench behind them. He picked his training bag and her art bag from the floor.

"Do you need a ride?" He asked her.

"No." She replied, too ambarrased by her own behavior to be in a car alone with him.

"Okay, I gotta go, but I'll see you in school." He said before leaving. "You can use the last minutes, if you want to."

When he was out of sight, she cursed under her breath, why couldn't she tell him. She grabbed the bat and set the machine to automatic.

"Do I still like Josh?" She asked herself.

Miss.

"Why can't I let go?" She said aloud.

Hit.

"What am I afraid of?"

Hit.

I like Lucas. She thought, scared of the truth.