“Hasn’t anyone ever called you gorgeous before? I find that hard to believe.”
We’d reversed our roles again with him staring at me, and me staring at the battered floor and chewing on my cheek.
“Not when there are clearly no reasons to use that word,” I replied.
“And why wouldn’t I have a reason to use that word, Haylee?”
My eyes flicked to him and met his green ones. There wasn’t a trace of mocking on his face, more like an intense curiosity.
“Well,” I started raising a finger to count all the reasons, “the first time you saw me I was dripping wet, the second time I wore cat-patterned pyjamas. Third? Wet again. Do you want me to go on? Because there was also the time I splattered coffee all over my shirt. Surely, everything you’ve seen of me so far has been the exact opposite of gorgeous, so excuse me for calling you out on the lie.”
“You are neither wet nor wearing cat-patterned PJs today. Unless you’d like to tell me something.” He drawled, and my mouth fell all the way to the ground.
Oh my actual God, no. He did not just... But he did. Yup he had said that, and there was no taking it back. Just like there was no cooling off my heated cheeks.
“Um, no, but I am clearly not dressed up either.”
“And yet you manage to look gorgeous, Red Cheeks.”
Silence.
God, that silence was thick and suffocating. I couldn’t form words, he’d closed his eyes, and his head fell back. Deep breaths didn’t really help with the rhythmic beat of my heart. I could dance to it if my limbs were still working. Is there a proper way to respond to that? Certainly not after a forever lasting silence.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the ceiling and swallowed hard. “I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable. I just can’t seem to figure out how to act around you.”
Stupefied, I glared at him until he righted his head and smiled sheepishly at me.
“Maybe we started off on the wrong foot. I haven’t even introduced myself.” He reached out his hand tentatively, searching my face for who knows what. “Hi, I’m Luke.”
Biting my lip, I met his hand halfway, and his engulfed mine in a cocoon of warmth. Luke’s thumb slid over the back of my hand, eliciting shivers across my entire arm.
“Haylee,” I squeezed through my tight throat. “But you know that already.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Haylee.” He still held my hand hostage, and I tried to hold it perfectly still as if not to draw any attention to our clasped hands as his thumb kept on caressing the back of mine.
Ding. Tenth floor. Ding-a-doo! And the doors opened.
Mr Umbrella—Luke—looked from me to the corridor beyond those doors, to our clasped hands, and up to me again, rubbing the back of mine one last time before sliding his hand out of my hold. I immediately missed the warmth. What a silly thing to say, but at that moment it was true.
He swallowed again and rolled his tongue in his mouth as if convincing himself to say something. Anything.
“That was my cue,” he said eventually. “I do hope to see you again—” Luke stepped out of the elevator and looked me straight in the eyes as the doors began closing again—“gorgeous.”
“So, I saw your Mr Umbrella?today,” Glen said after I’d showered, changed, and said hello to Drixie who now laid on my feet.
We were in the kitchen, and I was trying my hand at something excotic that was supposedly healthy and hopefully tasty, while Glen sat on a wooden dining chair with her elbows propped up on the square table opposite the countertops. We didn’t eat here often, just like we didn’t eat healthy often.
“Not mine,” I huffed. “And his name is Luke.”
“Luke Ombrello?” Glen mused. “That sounds strange doesn’t it?”
“His last name isn’t actually Umbrella, you do realise that, right?” I turned away from the vegetable to throw a concerned look at Glen.
“Not Umbrella,Ombrello. That’s what he said, anyway. Maybe I’m pronouncing it wrong. It doesn’t sound American. Did he say he’s American?”
I shrugged. “No. He only said his name is Luke. After he called me gorgeous.”
“Oh my god, Haylee! What are you going to do about it? You know he asked about you today.”
