He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, his thumb rubbing against the side of my face, his eyes dancing with mine in such a way that has my heart thumping wildly.
“Come here, my little cupcake,” he says, pulling me into his lap.
He laughs when I let out a squeal of surprise. His breath is warm as it hits the back of my neck, sending a zipping pulse through my blood. I recognize it as the same feeling from last night. I swallow loudly before I turn to my left so I can look back at him.
“Well, I have to say that I love your business ideas, Olivia,” Nonni says, her voice piercing through whatever moment Luke and I were just having.
I stay in Luke’s lap, attempting to focus more on the gingerbread house and not on how he has kept his hands on my legs, his calluses snagging on the fabric on my jeans, where I have little holly leaves and berries embroidered onto them. I’m internally coaching myself through these new feelings, trying to convince myself that I don’t enjoy sitting in Luke’s lap, specifically. Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t sat in a man's lap or had large, cozy hands on me like this in a long time.
I’m fighting to not enjoy this, but it's hard to convince myself it's just pretend when Luke's full attention on me feels like I'm the air he needs to live. Even if this relationship is staged, whatever’s been building between us has been transforming into something new.
“Can we change the music? If I hearMariah Careysing another song I’m going to lose my mind,” Uncle Leo states, and I know who he reminds me of now. Uncle FrankfromHome Alone. The thought alone makes a laugh shoot out of me, and everyone turns to look at me.
“I have a song request,” I say and face Jerrica, who has her phone in her hands. She looks up at me and waits for my suggestion. “‘Kiss’ by Prince.”
She smiles brightly at me, already typing on her phone, and Luke’s body stiffens beneath me. I study his reaction and raise a brow in a challenge. He gives me a smug smile, his eyes already on mine.
As the song starts playing, I look around the table to see that everyone has gone back to working on the last touches of their gingerbread houses, and I’m not sure any of us are prepared to hear Luke’s voice coming out high-pitched as he sings along to the lyrics.
Luke loosens up as his grandmother joins in, and then his Aunt Andy and his cousins. It’s enough to encourage him to sing even louder. He moves close to my ear, his breath hitting the sensitive skin, and I flush with heat. He shimmies his shoulders to the beat, bouncing me on his legs, and places his hands onto my hips to steady me.
A laugh climbs up my throat, and I tip my face back to let it out, my head resting on Luke’s shoulder, until he starts dancing again and takes my hands to move me with him. I turn until I can look at him over my shoulder, because I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.
He winks, singing the lyrics to me, and then I realize just what those lyrics are saying and how there’s a hidden truth shining behind Luke’s eyes, especially when he puckers his lips at me and makes a kissing sound just as Prince does in the song. I don’t have time to decipher its meaning, because Luke raises his voice so high to meet with Prince’s that it causes him to have a coughing fit, and I have to hold my stomach from laughing so hard.
Once the song is over and the laughter softens around us, I lean back against Luke, feeling his heart mirroring mine as it pounds quickly against my back. He lifts up to grab his water bottle, and as he takes a drink, his eyes are fixed on mine. I avert my gaze, allowing them to trail up the strong column in this throat as his Adam's apple bobs with each gulp, moving the stubble covering his jaw.
Thankfully, a distraction in the form of Davis enters the room, which I’m only thankful for about five seconds, until I sense the change in Luke. His body stiffens, his hands grip my leg tighter, and his breath hitches inhis throat.
I hate this for him. That just being in the same room as his dad has this effect on him. I hope he’s able to overcome this before we have to leave tomorrow.
Davis’ nurse is pushing him through the doorway and into the dining room where we are all gathered. His eyes wander around the room, appearing more tired than I’ve seen him this weekend, until they land on Luke’s. Davis gives him a small nod in greeting before the nurse stops him in front of Luke’s grandmother.
She smiles at her son, a sadness clearly written in her features, and she reaches out to take his hand into hers. From the sound of their past, her and Davis bumped heads a lot throughout the years, but even so, a mother will always love her son.
“Davis, will you do us the honor of choosing the winner?” she asks, and we all sit up straighter, placing our candies and tools down beside us, understanding that our decorating time is up.
“Yeah, sure. But no one is allowed to be mad at me if I don’t choose you. Okay?”
We all agree, even though the competitive side of me wants to do the opposite. His nurse wheels him around the table so he can see all the houses. He makes sure to compliment each house on something that he likes until he finally stops beside Luke and me.
Luke is quiet, keeping his eyes locked onto our gingerbread house and not on his dad. Davis gives me a weak smile before he examines our house. “You have a very talented girlfriend, Luke.”
“How do you know I didn’t help?” Luke says, finally looking up at Davis.
“I never said you didn’t,” Davis defends himself, although Luke’s words weren’t harsh. “I’ve, uh… I’ve been following Olivia’s social media for some time now. Lauren here helped me set up my social media page. I searched for you, wanting to see how you were doing, but couldn’t find you. I was able tofind Olivia’s account and see bits and pieces of you that she’s shared on there.”
I think back to if I’ve ever seen Davis’ name appear on my follower notifications, but nothing comes to mind. Luke’s face falls, clearly shocked that his dad has tried to search for him, and his grip loosens on my leg.
“As a cop, having social media does more harm than good, so I don’t have any.”
Davis nods in understanding. “I used to want you to follow in my footsteps, hoping it could help us understand each other better. The day I found out that you became a cop, I couldn’t have been prouder of you. It took me some time to acknowledge that you’re better off becoming the complete opposite of me.”
Luke looks down at the floor, sucking in a deep breath, like those words were a blow to the gut. I want to help him, take away this burden that he’s constantly carrying with him, but the only thing I can do is be here for him. I place my hand on top of his, lacing our fingers together, giving him a gentle squeeze.
The old Luke, the one that was created from the effects of Davis’ bad decisions, would have caused a scene. He would have shouted at his father or stormed off, but because Luke has spent years working on himself, fighting hard to let that side of himself go, he does the opposite.
It’s right here, in this moment, that I know, deep down, Luke still cares for his dad. Despite all their hardships and painful memories together, Luke will always care for him in some way.
