“Are you aware that your face is bright red right now?”
“Ha ha, very amusing. Okay, I… look, what do you want me to say? Yes. Yes, I like her.”
“And how does she feel about you?”
“Until today, I would have said she doesn’t like me much. But now I’m not so sure. She’s very hard to read.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve been at her house for two hours, then she gets me on her sofa and does this crazy pretend interview, asking me all these questions. And the whole time, I keep thinking, what if I just got up off the sofa and kissed her? How would she react?”
“Why don’t you do it then?”
“What if she doesn’t want me to? What if she slaps me?”
“I don’t think she will.”
“No?”
“You never know unless you try.”
Chapter 25
ADRIENNE
Before
I never expected to end up in bed with Luke Strauss. Dinner? Maybe. A few drinks? Possibly. But not this. It came as a complete surprise.
But not an unpleasant one. Just the opposite. I had thought of myself as the sort of person who could go indefinitely without physical affection, but the second Luke kissed me after I goaded him into it, I realized I was kidding myself. I wanted this. I wanted it so badly that even when he respectfully tried to slow things down, I wouldn’t let him.
Whatever you want, Adrienne.
I got exactly what I wanted. A night of passion with a man who surprised me by very much knowing what he was doing. He did a good job installing my security system. He did a better job in the bedroom.
I feel utterly satisfied.
But now it is over. Luke has his arm around my shoulders and my naked body is pressed against his, and all I can think about is, How am I going to get him to leave? It’s after midnight—surely he expects to spend the night. I like him, but I don’t want him in my bed anymore. I don’t want him tossing and turning and snoring and trying to cuddle me while I sleep. I need my sleep.
I also sense that it would be tacky to turn to him and say, Hey, that was fun. How about you run along home now? I might be stuck with him. The entire night.
“You know what?” Luke murmurs into my hair. “I’m starving.”
At his words, my stomach growls loud enough for him to hear. He laughs. “I guess that means you concur.”
“Do you want to get some food downstairs? We can raid my fridge.”
“Sounds good to me.”
He might not say that when he discovers the meager contents of my refrigerator. But then again, I sense he won’t be too bothered. Luke is very agreeable. I haven’t decided whether I am fond of that quality about him or not.
Luke climbs out of bed and gathers the clothing that was tossed around the room in a fit of passion. As he’s zipping up his pants, he notices that I’m watching him and looks up at me with a grin. For the first time since I saw that video on my phone, I feel a flash of happiness.
That video. EJ. That asshole.
No. Don’t think about it. Not now.
Luke throws his partially buttoned shirt over his head but doesn’t secure the rest of the buttons. Then he grabs his tie from the floor and lets it hang loose around his neck. I consider getting dressed in my clothes from earlier today like he has, but then I decide to hell with it. I grab my red fleece robe and wrap it around my body.
He smiles in approval. I bought the robe because it’s warm, but it has the added bonus of being red. I swear I didn’t consider that when I purchased it, but perhaps subconsciously I did.
The contents of the refrigerator are even more abysmal than I feared. I have a loaf of bread, but when Luke picks it up, there’s green mold growing at the bottom. There’s a bottle of ketchup. There’s dry pasta in one of the cupboards, but no pasta sauce. Only ketchup.
“I eat out a lot,” I say apologetically.
“I would hope so.”
He opens another cupboard and finds a package of only slightly stale saltines and some peanut butter. It’s not exactly the dinner of champions, but it will do. I have a pack of water bottles at the bottom of the fridge, and I retrieve one for myself and hand the other to Luke, who is busy making peanut butter and saltine sandwiches.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be sorry.” He pauses to lick peanut butter off the butter knife. “This was my favorite meal from ages seven through ten.”
I smiled to myself, imagining Luke as a freckle-faced second grader. “I bet you were a cute kid.”