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He touched the spot, too, and shrugged, looking at me. “I bet I get it a lot around you.”
“Hey!” I sat back down beside him, an inch closer than I had sat before, and gave him a small push. He didn’t scoot away.
“It’s not a bad thing.” He glanced at me, smiling.
“No, it’s not.” We were quiet for a while, finishing our breakfast.
Our breakfast. The plants were flourishing even though I’d been so busy with the band. Because he’d watered them. I thought of my dream and felt a rush of gratitude. He’d asked what I was doing today, and I realized I just wanted to be here, or anywhere, anchored in peace, knowing Luke was there, too. I’d tried not to name it last night. I could tell myself I had been too tired, too confused, too torn up from talking about Frankie, wanting someone’s comfort.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked beside me. I nodded, unable to look at him right then. Looking at his hands.
Because here we were, wide awake and well fed, and I knew I hadn’t just wanted to be held by anyone last night. I wanted to be held only by him.
