“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
“You don’t work at All Saints on Tuesday nights, do you?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Why?”
“I was hoping you might be able to come too?” she says. “That way, my parents just think I’m having a bunch of friends over and not A Friend.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Luke, you could come too,” Willow says now, which is the first time I realize he’s listening to our conversation. “You both could.”
I shoot Willow daggers with my eyes, trying to convey the fact that Luke and I are still not on good terms. She pretends she can’t read my expression.
“I’d be down,” Luke says, and I look at him, surprised. He’d bedown?To hang out with work people outside of work and have to continue our façade? “We’ll be there.”
“Perfect.” She claps her hands. “We’ll have the pool all to ourselves, andEricwon’t be there.”
I know she’s alluding to the terrible party at Bailey’s a few weeks ago, and it’s definitely a relief to hear it will be just the four of us. If Luke and I are going to have to keep up this charade outside of work and Mel’s, the smaller our audience, the better.
We go back to talking about the activities we have scheduled for the rest of the day.
When lunch is done, I push off from the table, wriggling my body out from under Luke’s arm. I’m almost out of the cafeteria when I notice that he’s on my tail. I keep up the pace, walking faster, until he has no choice but to jog to catch up with me.
“Hey,” he says.
“Do you need something?” I ask.
He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I was a jackass yesterday.”
“Gee, you don’t say.”
“Honestly, I thought you’d be happy to hear that you could still hook up with Eric or whoever you want.”
I start walking again, my blood boiling.
“Shit. Sorry,” he says, grabbing my arm to stop me. “Look, it’s weird, okay? This whole thing is weird. I don’tknowhow to do this.”
I don’t know whether he means he doesn’t know how to be around me anymore or he doesn’t know how to keep up the whole fake relationship thing.
“You could try not making idiotic comments, for one,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.
He nods, runs his hand along his jaw.
“Also, you’re not the one running the show. You don’t get to tell peoplewe’ll be there.”
“You already told Willow you would go.”
“That was beforeyousaid you would. Maybe I changed my mind.”
Luke’s face is serious, but I recognize the twinkle in his eyes and I know he’s trying not to laugh. Which makes me even more annoyed.
“You don’t get to decide when we touch and when we kiss, when we hold hands and when we don’t,” I say.
“As I recall,” Luke says now, his voice low, “you were the one who jumped me in the kitchen yesterday.”
“That was one time,” I say, my face warm. “Every other time, it’s been you.”
“So what you’re saying is you want to be the one to touch me?” he asks.
