His shoulders deflated at my words, sagging low. “I know, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep and the alarm didn’t go off. Then when I woke up, your number had smudged everywhere. I couldn’t read it to text you. But I wanted to, so badly. Please believe me.”
I looked at his face, guilt and sadness weighing heavily across it, reminding me of the look Freddie gave me as she walked out.
And I realized this wasn’t a coincidence.
“Freddie knew who I was yesterday. How?”
Embarrassment pushed the guilt away, a flush rising up his neck. I watched as he licked his lips nervously, the sight of his tongue doing nothing to quench the inferno blazing through me, because I could remember exactly what that tongue was capable of.
“Do you remember the picture I took before we got in the elevator?”
Barely. I hadn’t exactly been sober or concentrating on much but him.
“I still have it and she recognized you from it, I guess,” he shrugged.
“And you came here today to - what?”
“I wanted to see you.” His head tilted, as though there couldn’t possibly be any other reason.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never stopped thinking about you, and I wanted to apologize and see if you’d give me a chance to do what I would have done a year ago.”
His honesty was as disarming as his stupid, handsome face.
I rolled my lips, not quite sure I wanted to hear the answer. “And what was that?”
He raised an eyebrow and I was suddenly conscious of how little I was wearing, a droplet of sweat ran between my breasts. I knew he was trying very hard not to look.
“Take you on a proper date, for a start.”
I watched in silence as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a Sharpie. He removed the lid with his perfect teeth, and before I could stop him, picked up my arm, writing a number across it - just as I had done to him a year ago.
“Why do you have a Sharpie?”
“I always have one.”
I scoffed. “You always carry a Sharpie around?”
He looked up at me, his eyes glistening with amusement. “Yes.”
He put the lid back on the pen when he’d finished.
“There you go, Lucky Charm. Call me by tomorrow or I’ll be back. I know where you are now; you’re not losing me again.”
His smiled dropped, his face becoming serious as we stared at each other, both frozen on the spot.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
His sweaty, musky scent smacked my memory banks hard, sending my senses reeling and stripping me of my words once more.
“I’m going to go before I make a dick out of myself. Please don’t make me wait, Luck.” He placed my arm gently by my side, running his thumb along my palm, before walking out of the studio. He turned as he reached the door to find me still staring at him. “Oh, Luck? I’m Drew.” He winked, and then disappeared.
I fell back on to the step of the stage, sucking in deep lung-fulls of air, as though the oxygen in the room had returned to normal levels and I needed to replenish.
My head was spinning.
I rested my elbows on my knees, leaning forward so my chin fell onto my hands. I sat in silence, trying to replay the last five minutes. It was a lot of information to absorb in a short space of time.
