“What? You’re not coming in there with me. Let alone in my bed!”
He barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. Hold on.”
When Luke stood up from the swing, I stood alongside him. “What are you doing, Luke?” I asked, as soon as he reached for my front door. I leaned back and crossed my arms in annoyance. Obviously, because he couldn’t get in without a key.
“Wait—” Confusion set through my body. What the hell? Did I not lock my door?
“Just give me twenty minutes. Stay out here.”
“Uh, no. Move. And get out of my house!”
I pushed past him, ignoring his warm and snuggle-worthy body heat and stopped dead in my tracks the second I made it to the living room.
There were no words.
“You see, if I’d known how bad of a night you had, I wouldn’t have done this…”
Oh my…he was good. He was really good. My eyes scanned the contents of my living room and kitchen, and I didn’t even want to venture into my bedroom. The dark wooden legs of my couch were staring back at me, standing alert like weeds on an overgrown lawn. Every single piece of furniture I owned was flipped upside down. My bar stools, small kitchen table, couches, everything.
Before I could stop myself, a wicked, hysterical laugh poured out of my mouth. It was like all the emotions I’d been keeping dangerously hidden beneath my surface were coming out full-force in a scary, high-pitched sound. I couldn’t stop the laughter. My hand pushed on my stomach from the sharp ache left behind, and I bent down, putting my head between my knees.
I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop laughing, but Luke was completely silent. When I looked back over at him, his mouth was barely parted, and he was eyeing me with utter suspicion. As soon as my laughter started to dwindle, that’s when my eyes began to water. They became blurry, and I quickly let out a few more chuckles before backing myself up against the far wall, and very slowly sliding down to the cedar floor.
My eyes were pouring. I was crying. Wait, why am I crying? What’s happening? Why does it sound like a horse is trying to unclog itself from my chest? Was that a sob?
Oh, my God. I’ve completely lost it.
I’ve lost it all.
My mind.
Alex.
My family.
Pain shot through me like no other. My shoulders shook; tears fell gracefully from my cheeks, landing on my scrub top like it was a fluffy pillow. Wouldn’t it be nice if I could do the same? Just fall so gracefully onto a pillow and never look back?
“Cammie,” Luke breathed, right beside my ear. “It’s okay…” His warm breath tickled the loose hair from my ponytail, and I cried even harder because although he was the most comforting thing in my life at the moment, he wasn’t really mine, and he never would be.
But, right now, I didn’t care. I let him pick me up off the floor, and I allowed him to carry me to my bed. Which, thankfully, wasn’t flipped over. He’d left it untouched—my white comforter still pushed down from when I’d climbed out of bed the last time I slept, which I can’t really remember when that actually was.
Once Luke placed me on my side, I curled up into a little ball, still feeling the tears cascade down my face. I hiccupped and felt his warm lips press against my forehead.
He whispered, “I’ll come by after work and flip your furniture back.”
I went to protest, shaking my head, but he silenced me with his whisper. “It’s okay, Cammie. Just sleep.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I let my breathing slow and fell into a blissful sleep, pretending that everything was going to be fine when I woke up. That everything would be back to normal, before everything had gotten ruined a year ago
.
Nine
Luke’s hands trailed down my bare arms like a flower petal falling gracefully from its stem. It tickled, but not in a humorous way; it sent prickles all the way down to my core, erupting goosebumps over my entire body.
When he placed his lips to my collarbone, I lay completely still, relishing his touch. His hands continued to trail down my body, reaching my knee, then right back up my thigh. His fingers traveled achingly slow all the way to the hem of my shorts. With his hand and lips moving over my body at the same time, I almost came undone in that very moment.
I breathed out his name like my life depended on it, “Luke…” but he didn’t stop. He just worked his fingers up higher and higher, until I felt them wistfully skim my hip bone. I bucked my hips up, wanting more. Needing more. He was good at this game, teasing me until I almost died. Was that a thing? Dying from not being touched in all the right places? Maybe I would be the first known case.