“Okay!” I squeak, my face burning. “I’m going to go now before this gets any weirder.”
Luke chuckles and shakes his head, taking far too much pleasure in teasing me. But then he looks me up and down again, less lasciviously this time, and furrows his brow slightly, pursing his lips. “Can I suggest one thing? Then I think you’re good.”
“What?” I frown, looking down at myself.
“Cuff the sleeves.”
“Oh.” Not a bad idea.
The fabric is too tight against my biceps, making it difficult to adjust with only one hand. It bunches up awkwardly, and I have to redo it a few times because it just won’t sit right. When Luke sees me struggling, he steps closer and takes over, his long fingers working deftly.
The sudden shift in proximity throws me off guard as the space between us shrinks to almost nothing. Maybe it’s because he was joking with me a minute ago, but my breath hitches in my throat, and my heart jolts in my chest. At this distance, I can feel the heat of his body radiating against mine, the sweet smell of his cologne filling my nose.
Luke's not gentle as he tugs on my sleeves to get them to cooperate, though I can’t say I dislike it. But what stops me short is that every point where his fingers brush against my skin sends a spark, like a current of electricity that shoots up my arm, spreading through my entire body. It’s vaguely alarming, yet not unpleasant.
The way his slender fingers work on my sleeve is like living art, hypnotizing to watch. He’s got such delicate wrists, the bones very pronounced beneath porcelain-smooth skin. There’s a curious itch in my brain begging me to run the pad of my thumb over the surface to test if they’re as soft as they look.
My eyes travel upwards, and I have to tilt my head back to see Luke’s face. He’s all sharp lines and chiseled cheekbones, with skin so smooth and unblemished that I’m not convinced he didn’t step out of a magazine. I have an urge to reach out and touch his face, but like, purely for scientific exploration. Definitely only for science. Jesus, why am I sweating?
I marvel at the level of concentration on Luke’s face, wondering how he can be so calm when I feel like there’s enough electricity between us to light up the Chrysler Building.
When he’s done manhandling me, he drops his hands to his sides and takes a step back, abruptly breaking the spell I seemed to be under. I blink a few times to clear away the cobwebs as he admires his work. He meets my eye with a devastatingly handsome smile, sending another jolt straight through my gut.
What the fuck is happening to me?
“Are you all right?” Luke asks suddenly, concern knitting his brow. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“I… Uh—” I stammer, swallowing hard. My throat suddenly feels like I’ve never known a drink of water. “I’m just nervous, I think.”No, I think I’m having a nervous breakdown. What is wrong with me?
“You’re gonna kill it,” Luke assures me warmly, utterly unaware of the mental turmoil I’m suddenly facing. “You and Chrissy are gonna have a great time.”
That’s right.Chrissy. I’m about to go on a date with Chrissy. I force myself to think of her large amber-colored eyes, wavy brown hair, and wonderfully curvy frame, remembering all the times I watched her while she worked at the bar and how she’s always made me feel. It’s not hard to conjure the images, and as I retreat to the memories, I start to calm down.
This is a fluke—a weird reaction to my nerves. I’m reading too much into it, and nothing is happening that I need to be concerned about.It’s fine.
“Seriously, you look good,” Luke says, still trying to dispel my nerves but somehow having the opposite effect.
“Thanks. Thank you. I, uh… I’ve gotta go. But thank you.”
“You already said that.” Luke chuckles.
“Yes, I know,” I snap, pressing my fingers against my forehead. God, why am I being so awkward? “Okay. I’ll text you later. Or, actually, I’ll just see you tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Luke agrees. “Now go have fun. It’ll be good.”
I’m afraid to say anything else at this point. I feel like I’m being an idiot, making a fool of myself for no apparent reason. So, I nod instead, then close up the back of my truck, and move around to the driver’s seat.
Luke remains standing on the driveway, watching me as I pull away, and when I look at him through the rearview mirror, I swear I see him claw his hands down his face. But when I look again, he’s turned and walking back up to his house.
Chapter Eight
The Date
Chrissyisacrossfromme, drinking her fourth glass of wine while a piece of steak fries up on the slab of volcanic rock between us.
I’d eventually texted her around lunch and apologized for being so late in reaching out. Once she realized I was struggling, she took over the planning, alleviating my stress. She researched and chose the restaurant, then told me what we were doing within ten minutes of our conversation. I was grateful, if not a little envious, of her ability to power through the decision-making process.
She ultimately chose Black Rock in Utica for its unique setting and atmosphere. Grilling your own food on a scorching stone in the middle of the table is not your average dining experience, and neither of us had been here before. I didn’t know what to expect going into it, but we’ve had a lot of fun cooking and talking over drinks.
