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“Damn, man. You a big fan just like I am?”
His whole face bends in a look of vulnerability, and suddenly my heart quickens.
“No.” It’s murmured. “I like her music, but…”
I grab a deep breath as he puts two fingers to his forehead. “The designers needed a theme. I picked this…because of you.”
My throat is so thick, I can’t swallow. Then I can, and my brain struggles to process what he said. “That was in 2018?”
His eyes shut just for a moment. When he looks at me again, he says, “Yes.”
“How’d you know?”
His lips twitch—but it doesn’t matter. I already know the answer. “Instagram. One day on stories, I showed all my vinyl. You watched that day.”
He lifts his brows.
“What name are you now?”
His brows arch higher. “I’m still Pastor Luke.”
“But what’s your other name?”
He rubs his forehead. “vega615190.”
“Just a throwaway?”
“I made it to watch you. When you posted stories.”
“I wasn’t on there much.”
“I know.”
“What does vega mean?”
“It’s just a star.”
“Are the numbers random?”
His lips give another weak twitch—the ghost of a smile. “What do you think?”
“Gonna tell me what they mean?”
“Turn them around. Zero nine one five one six.” That’s the date we met up at my grandparents’ old cabin.
My whole body feels hot. I rasp out, “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t need to.” His mouth tugs into a grim line.
“You were dating then.” I didn’t mean to say that.
“Yes.” It’s barely whispered, but his eyes flash as he leans forward. “What would you have had me do?”
Tears sting my eyes so quickly it shocks me. “Nothing different.” It’s a hiss—because my heart is pounding. “That was what I wanted for you. Be with someone. So I didn’t have to—to feel tortured by not knowing if you were okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He blinks at me like he’s fucking clueless.
“Oh, gee, Luke. I don’t know.”
I’m at the top of the stairs before my head clears out, and I realize I fucked that up. My chest still feels tight. I turn around to sit down on the stair for just a second, and there he is, striding up toward me.
He drops to his knees on the stairs in front of me. He wraps an arm around my legs and presses his face to my knee. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“For the hotel and…for that phone call,” he rasps. His eyes squeeze shut. “Starting this.”
I shut my eyes, too. I can tell him that I care about him—that’s just…me—but I can’t let him see how much that fucking phone call tortured me.
I swallow hard and lift my head to face him. “I don’t care who you’re with, Luke. Be with someone you can be with.”
His arms come around me. “I’m sorry. For everything.” His lips brush my forehead. “I just…couldn’t think past my own shit.”
I press a kiss against his temple. “That’s what fucks me up—because I know, and I want two things. I want you happy. But I also want you for me. When I go—”
His teeth score my jaw. “You’re not going anywhere. Lay back, Rayne.”
I lie on my back at the top of the stairs, and he takes my pants down. He looks into my eyes as he works both of us, pressing our cocks together. Soon we both come into his hands. He gets up to get tissue.
When we’re both clean, he grabs my hand and pulls me up. “Get dressed.” He walks briskly downstairs. When I come back down, clad in jeans, Chucks, and a flannel button-up, I find him leaning on the doorway to the foyer.15VanceHe steers my borrowed Prius wordlessly through traffic. I can feel the tension rolling off him. It’s in his death grip on the steering wheel and in his chest, expanding just a little too sharply with each exhalation.
His jaw tics, and he’s eagle-eyeing the road—exactly like a sports car fiend who’s trying to get somewhere fast in a Prius. Finally, as we get off main roads and onto tiny side streets, I catch his eye. I grin at Mr. Tesla making do in my borrowed Prius.
“What?” he says flatly.
“You in this car.”
“What about it?” He arches an eyebrow—still grumpy.
“I don’t know. You look too big for it, for one.”
“Yeah, okay, pot.”
I grin, stretching my legs out, and his gaze falls to my crotch. That makes him smirk…then scowl.
“Whatcha got your panties in a wad for?” I ask.
He gives me a look like I’ve lost my mind. Then he takes a sharp right into a driveway hidden between trees, and I clutch the door handle. “What the fuck?”
That makes him chuckle, and the chuckling seems to ease his mood. Trees hang over the long drive, reminding me a bit of his house. “Where are you taking me?”
I can see the bay glint half a second before a brick house takes shape between the trees.
“Looks castle-like.”
