Luke snorts. “I may be a drama queen, but that’s beside the point. At least one of those daring rescues wasdirectlyyour fault, adding to my theory that this is all an elaborate ruse to get close to me.”
“Hey, now.” I choke out a laugh of disbelief. “The other three out of four literally had nothing to do with me, so it only proves my point that you’re a crisis fiend.”
“Fiend?” Luke stares at me with mock shock. “I’m surprised you know such a fancy word.”
“Listen here, you little shit,” I say, but Luke suddenly bursts out laughing before I can keep going. He doubles over with it, only to wince and groan a minute later, rubbing his forehead with both hands.
“Not a good idea,” he grumbles.
I feel my brows knit together. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Just a headache. Too much heat.”
“Why did your stepdad decide to just fucking leave you like that?” I ask, unable to keep the anger from my voice.
“It doesn’t matter,” Luke answers tensely, sitting up again. He pushes his sunglasses through his hair to sit on top of his head and presses both palms into his eyes, rubbing them agitatedly. “That’s how he always is. This isn’t the first time he’s pulled this kind of shit with me. He gets his kicks from being a dick.”
“Seriously?” I frown. I don’t like the connotations behind that. “How long has he been this way?”
“Well. My mom married him when I was fourteen. So, pretty much since then.”
“And your mom puts up with him treating you like that?”
Luke clenches his jaw, turning to look out the passenger window. I see him ball his fists in his lap before relaxing them. “It’s complicated.”
There are those words again, the same as last night. They sound heavy and bitter, and something about it tugs at my heart. I can only imagine that whatever he’s dealing with must be pretty messy if he’s so reluctant to talk about it. But it’s not my place to pry, even though I’m dying to know what he’s holding back.
Instead, I shake my head and mumble, “Well, he sounds like an ass.”
“And not even the good kind.”
I can’t help but turn my head slowly, unsure if I heard that right, but I can see how Luke is having a hard time keeping a straight face while he’s turned away from me.
“Wow,” I reply. “You’re just full of jokes, aren’t you?”
“What can I say? Raunchy humor’s how I cope.”
I grin and shake my head as we approach a red light.
“What, no classical music today?” Luke gestures to the silent radio.
“No, but now that you mention it, I think I might throw on some country just to piss you off,” I tease.
Luke glares at me, silently daring me to do it. It only gives me more incentive to follow through on the threat. Without breaking eye contact, I turn on the radio and flick the preset for the country station, cranking the volume way up. It’s in the middle ofBefore He Cheatsby Carrie Underwood. It must have been a request. I don’t think they usually play early 2000s music on their regular programming, but I try to make it seem like it’s exactly what I was looking for.
Luke’s eyes narrow, but the curve of his mouth twists up in a smile. Then, going against everything I thought I knew about theman sitting next to me, Luke startssingingalong, hitting it word for word without fault, like it’s an old favorite.
Beyond proving that he knows the song well enough to recite it, he’s belting it out with Carrie in such a way that it sounds like they were always meant to sing together. He’s passionate and enthusiastic, singing like a man who personally knows the satisfaction of wrecking another man’s truck in retribution for cheating. His voice is smooth and solid, and he’s not even struggling to get it out despite being in an octave most men couldn’t reach. It sounds natural, and the sheer power behind it blows my mind. He’s clearly not an amateur.
He’s really fuckinggood.
My jaw drops, and I stare at him in dumbfounded shock.
I’m so distracted by this incredible and unexpected performance that I miss when the light turns green, and the car behind me has to lay on the horn a few times before I remember that I’m supposed to be driving.
Luke chuckles, turning the radio down as I regain my bearings, but he waits patiently while I struggle to form a coherent sentence amidst my swirling thoughts. I don’t even know where to begin, thrown into a tailspin of incomprehension. The man is conventionally attractive, at least 6’7”,andhas a voice that could give anyone goosebumps. Life is literally so unfair.
He obviously has talent. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was trained, too. And there’s no way he didn’t pursue a career in something to do with music. But if so, why did he quit?
