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Not wanting to read anymore, I set down Brandon’s smart phone. Luke leaned back into his chair and his cheeks filled with air, looking like he was past caring about anything at all. A small bruise bloomed on his cheek, but I managed to cover most of the damage using my makeup.
I didn’t forget about what happened earlier. I could barely pay attention to the conversation; my mind kept obsessing over how amazing Luke’s tongue had felt and how close we had come towards really hot sex. I felt my chest burn in precisely the same area where his lips had sucked my breast. I clenched my fists under the table.
Luke gave no impression that he was thinking of the same thing. He raised an eyebrow at me, probably wondering why I was staring at him.
“Whatever happens, happens,” he said dully as the waiter set down three dripping mugs of cider in front of us.
“Cheers,” Brandon said to the waiter. He swiveled his concerned gaze to Luke, who picked up his mug and gulped it down.
I looked down at the golden liquid and took a sip. It was wonderfully crisp and light, like apple juice but not as sweet, with a slight kick of alcohol. This will go great with the pie. We were in a tavern in London that apparently made great savory pies. I had the impression that this was one of Luke’s favorite spots to eat in London, and that Brandon was on a mission to cheer him up.
It’s time to change tact. “How did you two become friends?”
A slow smile spread across Brandon’s face. “Well, we went to the same boarding school. We were in the same year and both of us had an affinity for Pokémon cards. We used to play all the time.”
I snorted into my cider and even Luke smiled apologetically. “That’s so weird. I did the same thing with my best friend, Natalie. We didn’t have the cards, though. We just played on our Gameboys.”
“We also played Dungeons and Dragons.”
This time, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “Oh my God. That’s so nerdy.” I gave Luke a playful swat on his leg. “This is the kind of juicy gossip I would expect on a tabloid. It’s a lot more shocking than reading about you punching out someone. Dungeons and Dragons!”
He gave me a thin smile and zeroed in on me. “How did you both meet?”
My insides froze as I tried not to glance at Luke. Well, shit. We had never come up with a rehearsed plan and my brain moved rapidly, trying to think of a quick, believable lie. Fuck!
“It was a support group,” I blurted. “F—for people with abusive parents.”
A stunned silence followed my words and my face radiated heat. Oh, God. Why did I say that? I clutched Luke’s hand under the table and winced at the force of his fingers wrapped around my palm. I desperately hoped that my utter fear would be seen as humiliation from admitting something so private. Luke’s going to kill me.
Brandon was a gentleman to his core. If he felt any sort of stunned disbelief, he kept it to himself. Nothing showed on his face except polite interest. “That’s really, well—”
“Yeah,” I said too quickly. “We just started talking and we realized that we had so much in common.” I gave Luke a quick glance. He wore an expression appropriate to being clubbed over the head. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you like to keep these things private, but I figured that since Brandon was an old friend, it would be fine.”
“It is fine,” he said in a voice that implied otherwise.
I grimaced at Brandon, who almost looked sorry for me. “I just don’t know what to tell people when they ask, you know? I’m just a normal person from the Bay Area. Lots of people look at me and him and they don’t really get it.”
Luke stood up abruptly and my hand slipped from his grasp. He gave me one look of extreme disapproval before announcing that he was going to the loo.
“Oh, shit,” I whispered as Luke stormed from the table and I hid myself in my hands. “He’s going to be so mad at me.”
Brandon awkwardly patted me on the back, but when I looked up his face was full of sympathy for me. The pain twisting my guts loosened slightly.
“Luke’s a pretty private person, but I’m really glad he’s going to this support group with you. He really needs it. Don’t tell him I said that,” he added.
“No, of course not.” Guilt squirmed inside me. Even his friends could see how badly his father was tormenting him.
“He’s always been a great friend, but he’s never really been very happy. It’s hard to when you have a dad like his.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be talking to Brandon like this, but I couldn’t resist. “Maybe it runs in the family,” I said, thinking of his mother’s suicide.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just glad he has someone who has gone through the same thing. He’s my best mate and I want him to be happy. I’m sorry if I came off a bit standoffish when we first met; I wasn’t sure about you. A lot of girls are usually only with him for the money, but you’re not like any of the girls he’s been with.”
The guilty feeling in my stomach doubled and I half-heartedly returned his beaming smile. I am with him for the money—sort of. I didn’t like lying to him, and I battled an overwhelming urge to confess and tell him the whole truth. He wouldn’t tell anyone. My fingers moved restlessly around the glass mug. Luke would be very upset. I stamped down on my urge to tell Brandon and looked down. For the first time, I felt really guilty about this whole arrangement. How many people would I have to lie to? I hoped that they weren’t as nice as Brandon.
“What’s his father like?”
“I’ve only seen him a few times, really. To me, he seemed polite. Maybe a bit cold. That’s quite normal, though. I know everything about him through what Luke has told me, and he has told me some terrible things. It’s not just him, though. It’s the cousins and his uncle. They all want a piece of Luke’s inheritance and they’ll do anything to get it.”
My fingers were white around the handle of the mug. “Can’t he get power of attorney over his father?”
Brandon shook his head.
What a mess, I thought. Part of me wondered whether it would be such a horrible thing if Luke’s father wrote him out of his will. Sure, he’d lose his inheritance, but didn’t he have a great deal of money in his bank account already? Didn’t he have millions of dollars worth of property? How many millions does one need, anyways? At least he’d be out of his father’s influence for good, and he would never have to stress about his family trying to usurp his inheritance.
