“It was the spaghetti. Fixed me right up,” I tease, and Luke chuckles.
“I’ll remember to make it again the next time I need to cheer you up.”
“Hm.Youcheer me up.” I sigh, resting my head against his shoulder. It feels like home.
“No, it was definitely the spaghetti.”
I grin, but then it fades slowly as a darker thought moves over me. “Thank you for coming over. I don’t know where I would have been if you hadn’t." The confession feels like a weight lifted from my chest, even as the words feel foreign on my tongue. Knowing that Luke has had a profound influence on my mental stability is one thing. Admitting it to him… That’s another thing entirely.
“I’m glad I did,” he grumbles in agreement.
“I know this can be a lot to deal with,” I mutter. “It’s scared away a few people in the past. Most people don’t want anything to do with it, but it’s not something I’ll ever fully be rid of.”
“Well, it's a good thing I’m not like most people. This doesn’t scare me,” Luke says firmly, almost like a promise, as he kisses my temple and hugs his arms a little tighter around me. “I willalwayscome when you need me.”
The words choke me up, tears prickling my eyes. It feels like I’ve won the lottery all over again to have found someone who understands that these moods are a part of the whole package, actively embracing them as quickly and effortlessly as the good ones. It’s refreshing not to be handled like I’m some broken thing he has to put up with, but an imperfect being still worthy of his time and attention even when I’m low.
I’ve spent so many years of my life feeling like a burden for something that’s just a part of who I am that I was beginning to feel that’s all I deserved. Then Luke smashed those expectations like a bull blowing through a china shop—unapologetic, chaotic.Freeing.
We stand together for a few minutes until a knock on my door signals the arrival of the pizza, interrupting the tranquil scene. Luke collects it while I finish the last few bits of cleaning in the kitchen, and then we sit down to eat. Instead of eating in the kitchen or dining room, Luke suggests we sit in the living room and turn on Netflix. He thinks it’ll be a good distraction.
I don’t have any opinion on what to watch, not generally one for television as it is, so Luke takes complete and total liberty in making a selection. Unexpectedly, though unsurprisingly, he picks an Asian drama he thinks I would like—a Taiwanese drama, he clarifies, with an unusual premise.
It follows a young woman who had to pretend to be a man since birth after her parents visited a kooky fortune teller, who said that if she didn’t, she’d die before her twenty-sixth birthday. She falls in love with a mafia boss's son after saving his life with her badass martial arts skills in front of an amusement park—that he also apparently owns—so he feels like he owes her a life debt, and they become sworn ‘brothers’, since he believes she’s a man. Then, her conniving cousin forces them into quasi-romantic situations, hoping the man, who has the most amazing hair I’ve ever seen, will fall in love with this girl who is clearly wearing a bad wig.
Except…he’s not gay. She’s not actually a man, either, so I guess that’s okay. But hethinksshe’s a man, so it makes him question things about himself as he starts to fall for her. And whenever he sees her as a woman—since she pretends to be her twin sister to avoid being exposed, thus bypassing the cursesomehow—he’s not interested inherbecause he’s too loyal to her as a man.
It's all very bizarre, but I have to admit that it’sfascinatingto watch.
The characters get into the most ridiculous, unrealistic situations, and no one suspects a thing about it. The dramatic pauses and drawn-out intimate moments make for good storytelling, and before long, I’m completely hooked. I can see why Luke enjoys these kinds of shows.
And that’s how we spend the evening, laughing and cuddling together on the couch, watching the show until well past midnight. The later it gets, the less willing I am to call it a night, though I’m afraid to admit it’s because I know the moment this ends, Luke leaves, and I really don’t want to be alone. I wouldn’t even begin to know how to ask him to stay. But even as I start yawning and fighting to keep my eyes open, Luke doesn’t push back when I ask to turn on the next episode.
At one point, he lies down on the couch and has me lie down with my head on his chest, my thigh between his legs, and he plays with my hair to the point of total distraction until it’s the only thing I can focus on. My eyes grow heavy, and before I know it, I’m out like a light.
Chapter Thirty-One
Close Call
Myphoneisgoingoff somewhere beside me. At least, I think it’s my phone. It’s loud and obnoxious, but I’m too tired to get up to check. Whoever it is will stop calling in a minute, and I can go back to sleep.
Except, it doesn’t actually stop ringing. After a brief pause, it starts up again with a new phone call that runs through to voicemail before repeating the cycle with barely a second to breathe between. The noise grates on my tired brain.
Fucking hell, why won’t it stop?
I open my eyes with extreme effort, feeling like I’m coming back from the dead instead of waking up from a peaceful sleep, and I blink as my vision focuses. I don’t remember the last time I slept so deeply, and coming back to awareness feels like such a burden, especially when I’m so comfortable that moving feels sacrilegious.
The first thing I’m cognizant of is that it’s bright as fuck outside. Like annoyingly sunny to the point of pain. The next thing I’m aware of is that I’m still out on the couch in my living room, curled up against Luke’s chest in the same positionI’d fallen asleep in last night, as if I haven’t moved at all. The television is even frozen on the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ screen.
It takes another moment for me to notice with some shock that Luke is stillhere. He didn’t leave last night after all. And as I turn my head up to look at his sleeping face, his hand slips away from my head with the movement where his limp fingers had been resting, curled in my hair.
My phone grips my attention as it ringsagain, and with a flash of irritation, I reach out and pick it up from the coffee table, staring at the caller ID. I wonder who could have the audacity to blow up my cell like this on a Saturday morning, only to frown when I see it’s Marcus. Immediately, a pang of guilt runs through me. He usually never calls this many times in a row unless he’s worried about me, and being radio silent yesterday probably didn’t help when he knew what day it was. I suppose I’ve given him many reasons to worry over the years, so I can’t blame him for being persistent.
As I answer the call and put the phone to my ear, I can feel Luke shift slightly under me as the sound wakes him up, and I glance up to meet his eye while he rubs his face tiredly. His sleepy smile sends warmth down to my bones.
“ThankfuckingChrist.” Marcus sighs dramatically over the phone, the sound like a bomb going off in my ear. “I was two seconds away from busting down your door.”
“Um… Hello to you, too?” I respond, my voice sounding a bit gravelly with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
