stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Luke, wait. You don’t have to go.” The expression on his face when he turned to look at her brought a fresh sting of tears to her eyes, knowing she’d put it there. “Please tell me we haven’t fucked things up.”
He blew out a heavy sigh and shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine. I just…I just can’t be around you right now.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, though. Right?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice rough.
The door slammed behind him and between them. She was buried deep beneath the covers of her bed before the tears returned.
The ache in Luke’s chest threatened to submerge him like a rogue wave, but he knew if he gave into it, he’d drown. From the very start, he’d realized things could end up this way, but he’d been willing to take the risk. Once rejection eased, anger swept in to replace it. He was angry with her for being stubborn and shortsighted. Most of all, he was angry with himself for overestimating her feelings for him. How could he be so incredibly stupid? Their friendship was at risk, and he had no one to blame but himself.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. They would be alright. He’d make sure of it. But between now and then, he needed to find a way to ease the sting. Felony Bar was still open. He could drop in and drink himself into oblivion, but he quickly rejected the idea. Sitting around with Jack and Ally, watching their romantic bliss unfold, was more than his wounded heart could bear.
He was halfway home when he spied a new text on his cell from Elijah Crowe. The others had gone unanswered, but this one came at just the right time. He pulled the car to the curb and tapped on the message.
Dude. I’m in town. Come see me.
Those three little words held a million different meanings. Come see me. He stared at the phone and drew in a few breaths as he debated his options. A smart man would take his wounded ass home, drink a few beers, and get up tomorrow with a better outlook. Or a hangover, depending on how low he sank between now and then. Anything sounded better than sitting alone in his apartment.
The stoplight at the next intersection changed colors three times before he made his decision.
Chapter 10
The black stretch-limousine glided away from the curb in front of Tasha’s apartment. Luke slid down the long seat to make a place for her. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the pool. His grin lit up the darkness. Happiness surged through her.
“You look good enough to eat,” he said. The blatant approval in his eyes sent heat into her cheeks.
In honor of the night, she’d worn her favorite black sequined mini-skirt and an asymmetrical white halter top with a black-and-white print of Marilyn Monroe’s face splashed across the front. Thigh-high fishnets and black boots with four-inch heels and pointed toes completed the look. It was conservative compared to her usual eclectic style but still sexy.
“Thanks. So do you,” she said. He looked delectable in a blue Henley shirt. The short sleeves showed off the veins on his biceps and forearms, the favorite parts of his body. How had he managed to grow better looking in only a week? Was it even possible? Her heart hammered against her ribs.
“You changed your hair.” Luke tugged on a loose tendril of hair spiraling from behind her ear. At his touch, her body thrummed with sexual chemistry. “I like it.”
“Thanks.” On impulse, she’d changed her pink locks to platinum, a two-hour process, but well worth Luke’s words of praise.
The week without him had been painful. A dozen times a day, she’d reached for the phone to share a funny thought or incident but stopped herself. The distance between them had been her idea, and she’d vowed to honor it. He’d reach out to her when he was ready.
With each passing day, a new butterfly had unfurled in her belly, knowing they’d be together for the concert.
“Luke, wait. You don’t have to go.” The expression on his face when he turned to look at her brought a fresh sting of tears to her eyes, knowing she’d put it there. “Please tell me we haven’t fucked things up.”
He blew out a heavy sigh and shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine. I just…I just can’t be around you right now.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, though. Right?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice rough.
The door slammed behind him and between them. She was buried deep beneath the covers of her bed before the tears returned.
The ache in Luke’s chest threatened to submerge him like a rogue wave, but he knew if he gave into it, he’d drown. From the very start, he’d realized things could end up this way, but he’d been willing to take the risk. Once rejection eased, anger swept in to replace it. He was angry with her for being stubborn and shortsighted. Most of all, he was angry with himself for overestimating her feelings for him. How could he be so incredibly stupid? Their friendship was at risk, and he had no one to blame but himself.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. They would be alright. He’d make sure of it. But between now and then, he needed to find a way to ease the sting. Felony Bar was still open. He could drop in and drink himself into oblivion, but he quickly rejected the idea. Sitting around with Jack and Ally, watching their romantic bliss unfold, was more than his wounded heart could bear.
He was halfway home when he spied a new text on his cell from Elijah Crowe. The others had gone unanswered, but this one came at just the right time. He pulled the car to the curb and tapped on the message.
Dude. I’m in town. Come see me.
Those three little words held a million different meanings. Come see me. He stared at the phone and drew in a few breaths as he debated his options. A smart man would take his wounded ass home, drink a few beers, and get up tomorrow with a better outlook. Or a hangover, depending on how low he sank between now and then. Anything sounded better than sitting alone in his apartment.
The stoplight at the next intersection changed colors three times before he made his decision.
Chapter 10
The black stretch-limousine glided away from the curb in front of Tasha’s apartment. Luke slid down the long seat to make a place for her. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the pool. His grin lit up the darkness. Happiness surged through her.
“You look good enough to eat,” he said. The blatant approval in his eyes sent heat into her cheeks.
In honor of the night, she’d worn her favorite black sequined mini-skirt and an asymmetrical white halter top with a black-and-white print of Marilyn Monroe’s face splashed across the front. Thigh-high fishnets and black boots with four-inch heels and pointed toes completed the look. It was conservative compared to her usual eclectic style but still sexy.
“Thanks. So do you,” she said. He looked delectable in a blue Henley shirt. The short sleeves showed off the veins on his biceps and forearms, the favorite parts of his body. How had he managed to grow better looking in only a week? Was it even possible? Her heart hammered against her ribs.
“You changed your hair.” Luke tugged on a loose tendril of hair spiraling from behind her ear. At his touch, her body thrummed with sexual chemistry. “I like it.”
“Thanks.” On impulse, she’d changed her pink locks to platinum, a two-hour process, but well worth Luke’s words of praise.
The week without him had been painful. A dozen times a day, she’d reached for the phone to share a funny thought or incident but stopped herself. The distance between them had been her idea, and she’d vowed to honor it. He’d reach out to her when he was ready.
With each passing day, a new butterfly had unfurled in her belly, knowing they’d be together for the concert.
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