“Do you want me to respond to his text? Shoo him away?”
“No!” I replied perhaps way too loud. “I mean, I’ll take care of it myself.”
“Be caref—”
“You said that already. Twice. I’m not a child anymore.”
“No, I suppose you’re not.”
The line was quiet for a moment. Long enough for me to be able to stuff my mouth with a sandwich.
“Will you tell me if something is wrong?” Dad eventually asked. “If you need help with... anything.”
I chewed on the dry bread before I swallowed. “There’s nothing wrong, but if there is, you'll be the first to know.”
I wasn’t sure how truthful that was, since Glen would always hear everything before anyone else, but it was the only thing I could say that would get him to drop it. He was worried about me, I got it. But all of that carefulness was making me angsty. What if I missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity by worrying about everything that may or may not happen?
Last night was special. I felt special. Luke was enchanting, charming, and funny. Somehow, he’d wanted to spend time with me, and the intense focus he directed towards me made me feel worth the attention. He wasn’t afraid to express his mind and the things he’d said—I really liked him and hoped there was some truth to all of it.
Hoped? Pshh... that’s what all the being cautious did to me. Last night, I had simply hoped and buried my head into my pillow—nothis. I bet that would have been incredible. If his attention to detail was anything to go by, he’d likely be very... all-consuming. But no, I’d been careful. I’d run back to Glen’s and hadn’t even managed to receive a goodnight kiss, not a proper one at least, because somehow he knew. Somehow Luke had figured me out and melted a little more of the walls around my heart that I’d thought were impregnable. And then he’d fled as if the fire had been too hot to touch. As if he’d been afraid to cause a collapse if the fortress crumbled all at once. As if the force of it falling could leave me buried underneath, more damaged than I already was. That was the man I had to be careful of?
I’d dressed for my waitressing job this morning and was running later than usual due to the unexpected phone call. Monday mornings weren’t all that busy at the restaurant, but I hated being late. I was brushing my hair in the lift, staring at my reflection in the dirty mirror at the back of it, when the thing stopped and dinged only two floors lower to mine.
“If it isn’t Little Red-Cheeked Dancing Girl.”
I dropped my hands, still gripping the brush. I blushed at the sound of his voice. The deep amused tone of it caressed my ears.
What had he said again? I whipped around to face him, getting caught in his wide grin as his words registered.
“And you’re what? The Big Bad Wolf?” I asked, my cheeks blazing ever more.
“I was hoping to be one of the hunters since the wolf didn’t fare all that well at the end of the story.”
“The wolf was well fed. There weren’t even any hunters in it.”
Luke stepped into the lift, eyes drinking me in before stopping on the brush in my hand. His fingers pried it out of my grip, leaving tingles behind. Then he resumed combing my hair as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do. His brushes were soft and careful as he coaxed knots out.
“I like my version of the story more,” he said.
I closed my eyes, enjoying the way he touched my hair. “How does your version of the story go?”
“The hunter saved the girl, obviously.”
“And they lived happily ever after?” I could feel my pulse in my neck, so close to where Luke’s fingers were threading through my curls.
Luke grinned. “Her gratitude knew no bounds, but she had nothing to thank him with, so he asked for a dance. So she did for him.”
I bit my lip but couldn’t stop the smile. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm,” he hummed. “It was the most enchanting sight.”
I snorted and pulled my brush out of his fingers, only to drop it in the bag I was carrying. That was enough, thanks.
Luke didn’t step away, however. He was content standing so close I had to tip my head to be able to see his eyes. So close I could almost feel his body heat against mine. And even though I’d taken the brush away, his hands were still in my hair.
“Dance for me, Red Cheeks,” he murmured so close to my ear I could feel his breath tickling my skin.
I could hear his breathing. Or maybe it was mine that started to become irregular. “Right here?”
