Read Online LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2) by Jane Harvey-Berrick - Free Book Online Page B

apartment—especially since it wasn’t the kind of street that had many expensive cars. But then I saw Seth step out of the driver’s side and walk toward me.
    “Can we talk?”
    I studied him for a moment. He was wearing charcoal suit pants and a white shirt with a blue tie hanging loosely around his neck. He’d obviously come from work.
    I glanced at my wristwatch.
    “Please, Luka?”
    I blew out a breath. “Sure. Come on in—you know the way.”
    As he followed me, I could feel his eyes on me the entire time. It was slightly unnerving. I tossed my gym bag in a corner and ran some water from the kitchen faucet until it was cold, filling a glass. Then I leaned back against the sink.
    “What do you want to talk about?”
    “I’m really sorry about last night,” he began, his hands shoved into his pants pockets. “It was so weird. But just because you and Sarah are friends, there’s no reason why we can’t see each other, is there?”
    There was one big, fat reason.
    “It’s not a good idea.”
    “Why not? It’s not like you slept with Sarah or anything.”
    I opened my mouth to reply, but he rushed on, not giving me a chance to answer, or not wanting to hear what I’d say.
    “We’ve got a chance of something good here, Luka. I’d like to try again. Can we?”
    “I don’t . . .”
    “Don’t say no. Just . . . think about it for a while. Let’s . . . hang out. Please?”
    “Hang out?”
    He grinned at me, the smile that I was beginning to hope for.
    “I guess . . .”
    “Great!” he said. “And it looks like you finally bought some groceries.”
    “Yeah, it makes a change from eating hotel food all of the time. I’m kind of looking forward to cooking for myself.”
    “Really? Are you any good?”
    “Haha, maybe. It’s been a while.”
    “Sarah hates cooking—and she loves being on tour.”
    “I know.”
    “Yes, I suppose you would.”
    He hesitated, and I hated that the easiness we’d had yesterday was gone. He laughed awkwardly.
    “She says she’d happily live in hotels her whole life—room service forever.”
    I gave him a polite smile, having nothing to add, and he coughed self-consciously.
    “I helped her buy this flat—as an investment, really.”
    “Yeah?”
    “So she’d always have somewhere to come back to . . . other than crashing at my place and tossing her stuff everywhere. Or, well, going back to our mother’s,” and he pulled a funny face.
    “I have an apartment in Koper—my hometown—for the same reason, but I sublet it.”
    “Really? I didn’t know that.”
    There was a lot Seth didn’t know about me.
    “What’s Koper like?”
    “Quaint, old fashioned,” I smiled. “But it’s only a few kilometers from the border with Italy, and it’s on the coast. We don’t have a whole lot of coast.”
    “What’s it like living there?”
    “I didn’t grow up there, but yeah, I like it. When I’m not touring.”
    “Do you like touring?”
    “There are pros and cons,” I said, leaning back and closing my eyes.
    “Such as?” he prompted.
    My eyes drifted open and I turned my head to see him watching me intently, as if every word was golden.
    “Sarah must have talked about this?”
    “I want to know what it’s like for you.”
    “Okay . . . well . . . it’s a full time job being an artist. Your workload is crazy. Being on tour for months, for a year maybe, you get to travel the world and sightsee; you get to do what you love and you’re getting paid for your passion. So travel is the good bit, one of the pros, but it’s also one of the cons—living out of a suitcase. People think it’s super glamorous being in a new hotel every other day. But you wake up and don’t even know what city you’re in half the time. It’s very insular, like you’re in a little bubble of unreality. You miss your family and friends, but the people you travel with become family.”
    “So . . . Sarah is your family?”
    I winced. The thought was an uncomfortable one, so