“Here,” I say, pulling my sweatshirt over my head. I hold it out to him.
“I don’t need your hoodie,” Luke protests. “I’m fine.”
“Take it,” I insist. “I’ve got another one at camp, and I’m not that cold. Furnace, remember?”
Luke hesitates, chewing his bottom lip as he stares at the sweatshirt in my outstretched hands. He grumbles to himself before taking it from me, begrudgingly putting it on over his own. It’s so much larger on his frame than mine, but somehow, it looks better on him that way. Fucking hell. Why do I seem to have such a thing for this man wearing my clothes?
Luke settles into it nicely, his body releasing another another heavy shudder before he sighs with relief. I can already see how much warmer it makes him. Then he pulls the collar up to his nose, inhaling deeply. He groans, closing his eyes.
“God, you smell so good,” he says. “Why do you smell so good?”
My grin lights up, and the butterflies in my stomach decide to put on a three-ring circus of acrobatics. “What do I smell like?”
“Pine trees and honey.” Luke practically moans.
I can’t help but laugh. “Pine treesandhoney?”
Luke grins. “It’s an effective combination.”
“I think that’s the first time anyone’s given me that combo. I’ve gotten laundry soap and Old Spice, but yours sounds better.”
“It’s definitely ‘man of the woods’ meets ‘beekeeper,’ and I’m entirely here for it.”
“Too bad I’m scared of bees.”
Luke laughs, the sound like music to my ears. How is it possible for a person to have such an attractive laugh? Laughs are supposed to be obnoxious, like a gremlin trying to break free, or a wheezing tea kettle threatening to boil over. But not his. His sounds like crystal flutes or wind chimes in a summer breeze. I could listen to his laughter forever.
I really think I might explode if I don’t tell him how I feel.
When he settles again, Luke cups his hands to his lips, breathing into his palms before rubbing them together to get warm. The little voice in my head tells me to be careful, but for the first time all night, I don’t listen as I reach out to grab his hands, holding them in my own. I can feel how bone-chillingly cold his fingers are, and he grips me back like he’s never known warmth before. He also doesn’t pull away as I gently brush my fingers over his knuckles, his soft skin like ecstasy beneath my touch.
My eyes are glued to our hands, and I’m too afraid to look up. My heart is suddenly beating like a steam engine barreling down the tracks, threatening to derail at any moment. Can Luke feel it in the pulse of my fingers? Does he have any idea just how terribly he’s driving me insane?
Luke squeezes my hand ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, and my breathing stops. My eyes sweep up to meet his, and he’s looking back at me with a sort of glazed expression, his lips parted. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion, and he lets out a shaky breath that has nothing to do with the cold. I’m not imagining things this time. Luke is definitely giving me a look that says he wants more.
This is really happening.
I dare to lean in slowly, searching his face for any sign of hesitation or rejection, and finding none. Instead, Luke is drawn into my movement like a magnet is pulling him forward. Closing the distance, Luke’s eyes flutter shut, and mine do the same as our lips finally come together. All at once, it’s like the final piece to a puzzle falling into place.
Chapter Seventeen
Mixed Messages
Fireworksaregoingoffabove us. The world around me is exploding in brilliant bursts of color and light, and every cell in my body matches it in strides. Nothing in life could ever be that bad again becauseI’m kissing Luke.
Every imagined scenario of this moment pales in comparison to the real deal. I’ve heard people talk about being able to feel a spark in a kiss. I even believed—obviously, incorrectly—that I had experienced it before with a few girlfriends. Now, I suddenly understand what everyone was talking about when they say this kind of kiss is magical, and I have to agree. It’sincredible. Nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of every fiber of my being lighting up as if I’ve been plugged into the universe. It’s fire and oil, a never-ending combustion of powerful sensations.
And to have Luke kissing me back, his lips desperate upon mine… It’s a dream come true. I can sense his eagerness, the way he melts into me like he’s found a taste of heaven. I could die of happiness before the night ends.
But when I reach up to hold his face in my hand, wanting to pull him in deeper, Luke suddenly gasps like he’s been burnedby my touch. One minute, we’re in the middle of pure bliss, and the next, Luke is pulling away from me, leaving me blinking with confusion in a dazed state of bewilderment. His chest heaves with sharp, jagged breaths, and he stares at me with wide eyes, a pained expression on his face.
“What the fuck are you doing, Ethan?” he snaps, and all at once, my heart stops.
He’s angry? Wait, it’s more than that. He’sfurious. His face is contorted in a mask of open anguish, and the way he’s looking at me rips my heart open. Like I’ve just hurt him in the most unimaginable way possible. It sends a sharp pain to my chest, almost as if it’s been driven through with a spear.
Wait. No, no, no, no,no.Did I get this wrong? Is it possible I misread his signs? I thought we were on the same page. He was just as into it, wasn’t he? I can’t bethatdrunk that I imagined the whole thing…
I must have been wrong. Why else would Luke be pushing me away?
