The Friend Game (Games for Two #1)

Chapter 11

I’M FLIPPING THROUGH a stack of paintings done by one of my second grade classes when Luke sticks his head in my classroom the next day. Butterflies take flight in my stomach at the sight of him. He’s wearing jeans and a black blazer over a charcoal sweater, and he looks so good it makes my mouth dry.

I force my thoughts back to our budding friendship and smile at him in a completely non-romantic way. No come hither stares from me. I am here only for the just friends show.

Seriously, go ahead and put multicolored dots between all the letters, because like the NYC crew before us we are F · R · I · E · N · D · S.

“Hey there, Pastor Abbott. Please come in.” I set down the paintings and rise to greet him, circling around to the front of my desk.

“Hey, Miss Garza,” he mimics my formal tone with a wry smile. “I did tell you that you can call me Luke, right? ”

“Oh. Yes.” I nod. “It’s just, I noticed everyone else around here seems to call you Pastor Abbott, so I feel a bit funny calling you Luke at school.”

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat, then lifts up a brown paper bag. “So since you only have a thirty minute lunch break, I brought us some sandwiches from the deli nearby.”

“Oh, thanks.” I chew my lip. “Would you like me to pay you back for mine?” I add a little awkwardly. I hope he says no. Until I get my first paycheck I’m dangerously low on funds. But he did say we were just friends, so I don’t want to assume he’s buying. Buying me lunch is more date-like than friend-like.

“Oh no.” Luke shakes his head. “My treat. A way to welcome you to Grace Canyon.” He approaches my desk and sets the bag down. “And an apology of sorts.”

“An apology?” I ask in confusion.

“Yes,” he sets his shoulders, “the other day when I brought you those flowers from your dad, I let things get out of hand between us.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what to say to this. Sure, I remember flirting with him on Monday, how could I forget? But that’s all we did. Flirt. Then again, as I’ve established many times, he’s a pastor. Maybe for him flirting is letting things get out of hand. Especially since he only wants to be friends with me .

“The thing is,” Luke seems undaunted by my silence, choosing to simply press on, “I was flirting with you, and that was unfair of me. I just lost my head.” His eyes go down to my lips, then jerk back up. My stomach flips. “I always seem to be losing my head around you,” he adds with a shake of his head. “That’s no excuse though, because the fact of the matter is, I shouldn’t have been flirting with you because I’m not going to ask you out.”

I wince. Here I thought there’d been a spark once more, but now he’s shooting me down again. Clearly even if he didn’t have a contract to think about he wouldn’t be asking me out. What a total bummer.

If only he knew that I know about his contract, then we could avoid this painful, I-don’t–like-you-that-way conversation.

“Right, got it. You’re not interested in me.” I force a smile. “No worries, Pastor Abbott, you don’t need to tell me twice. Message received. Lucky for you I have my big girl panties on, so I can handle the truth.” Oh my word, why did I just say panties? Pick a better idiom, Hannah!

“Hannah.” Luke holds up his hand to stop my blubbering. “No, you don’t understand. Probably because I’m messing this all up.” He rakes a hand through his hair, then meets my eyes. “Believe me, I am definitely interested. ”

I freeze. “You are?” Given the way this conversation is going I’m a little scared to believe him. If the next words out of his mouth are interested in being your friend, that is, I will unwrap the sandwich he bought me, stuff it into his face, and hope it has mayonnaise on it.

“Yes.” Luke nods. “I would really like to ask you out, Hannah.”

Angels are singing. My heart is flying in my chest. The corners of my mouth are competing to see who can get closer to their respective ears. I’m on cloud nine.

Luke drags in a breath, “But I can’t.”

And I fall back to earth. Ouch. You’d think my previous knowledge of this fact would’ve lessened the pain of impact, but no. Hearing him say it still feels like my heart smacked pavement.

“And that’s not just a line,” Luke hurries on. “It’s a bit complicated to explain, but essentially, when I started here at Grace Canyon, I agreed to remain single for the first year so that I could dedicate more of my attention to the church and school.”

“Luke,” it’s my turn to stop him now, “I actually know about the contract.”

“You do?”

I nod. “Belinda Lagman mentioned it to me yesterday. She was itching to try her hand at matchmaking with me, but said you were not a good match for me because of the contract you signed.”

“I see.” Luke is quiet for a second, his forehead creased in thought.

“So I guess I owe you an apology too,” I take a big breath then go on, “because even after I found that out, I sort of still hoped you’d ask me out.” I lean back against my desk, my knees a little shaky after this confession. “I should’ve respected the fact that you’re committed to staying single right now, and been less…” I search for the right word.

“Likable?” Luke supplies. “Funny? Sweet? Easy to be with?” His voice drops. “Beautiful?”

A shiver runs up my spine. “I was going to say flirtatious,” my mouth is so dry, my words come out in a whisper, “but your words are good too.”

Luke’s eyes are smoldering, and I can feel my breath start to quicken. How did a conversation about why we can’t date turn into such a passionately charged encounter? All at once Luke seems to remember himself, because he clears his throat and takes a few steps back.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I came in here to apologize for all the ways I’ve been leading you on, and then I just go and do it again.”

“No, it’s fine.” I smooth my hands over my dress, trying to regroup. “That was nice what you said. Friends can say nice things to each other. Listen to this, you look nice in that sweater blazer combo, friend.”

Luke lets out a low chuckle. “You know I made it through eight months of being single without much of a problem.” He pauses, then looks right at me. “Then I met you.”

Heaven help me. Luke’s not flirting game is strong. Where is my paper fan when I need it? I do a little wave of my hand up and down in front of my face. It doesn’t make my face feel any less heated.

“See, this fine,” I squeak. “I mean, this is fine, we’re fine. Super fine.” Oh my. “We can be just friends. Friendly friends.” I can feel myself on the precipice of one of my nonsensical rambling sessions, but somehow I still can’t stop it from happening.

“As a matter of fact, I have experience in this area. When I was 13 I liked this boy, Chase, and Chase liked me too. But my parents didn't let my sisters and I date until we reached high school, so Chase and I had to be just friends.” I frown as other memories of that time surface. “Of course, that may not be the best comparison given how Chase and I didn’t have the same moral standards as, say, a pastor.” I gesture to him and his eyebrows pop up. “There was some kissing that happened unbeknownst to my parents,” I spell out unnecessarily. Pretty sure he already got that .

I forge on, “Which really brings us back to the beginning of our discussion today. We need to be just friends, which is good, because you’re a pastor, and clearly I was a disobedient adolescent. That type of thing could be genetic, Luke. Plus, you should know that I didn’t go to church for a whole year while I was in college. Like I just stopped going. What kind of pastor’s girlfriend just stops going to church? And sure, those are all past versions of me, skeletons in my closet if you will, but the current version of me is pretty flawed too.”

“Hannah,” Luke tries to interject, but I keep going, a freight train barreling down the tracks.

“For example, I go to the bar a lot. Granted it’s my sister’s karaoke bar, and I go more to see her than anything else, but still, the phrases, “pastor’s girlfriend” and “at the bar '' don't really go together. And last week I accidentally stole a yogurt from the grocery store. It was under my purse in the cart, and when I found it I went back inside to pay for it, but for about seven minutes I was a bona fide thief.” I suck in a breath, then burst out, “But worst of all, I’m a big, fat fibber. Seriously, I throw white lies around like confetti. I can’t stand to disagree with people, so that’s usually where my white lies stem from. Just ask Liam. He’ll tell you how I don’t actually like Spider-Man. That I was lying when I told him I did. Poor kid. Probably scarred him for life. Which actually brings up the fact that I bet you think I like Star Wars since I dressed up as Princess Leia for Halloween, but the truth is–that was Jill’s costume. I borrowed it because it was that or be a ninja without any weapons. I don’t like Star Wars . Not even a little—”

“Hannah!” Luke’s voice is louder this time, and I finally stop, my chest heaving from talking so fast. He must’ve moved while I was speaking, because he’s now standing directly in front of me. He sets his hands on my shoulders, and the contact makes goosebumps erupt down my arms. “Listen closely.” Luke’s deep rumble settles over me, and I raise my eyes to meet his. “I am going to ask you out, Hannah Garza. I don’t care about your bar-visiting, accidental-thievery, white-lying, Star-Wars- hating ways. I still want to take you out.” The intensity in his gaze has me rooted in place. “The only question is whether or not you’re willing to wait four months for me? I know it’s a lot to ask, so if not, I completely understand. But if you are, then I’ll see you at your front door in four months. I’ll be the guy picking you up to take you to dinner. I hope you like pasta, because I know this great little Italian place.”

Fireworks are exploding in my chest, but I try to play it cool. In a distant far-off part of my brain I can hear a voice that sounds an awful lot like Jill’s warning me to think about this before I just agree. A lot can change in four months, the voice says. You’re playing with fire trying to be just friends.

“Does this restaurant have breadsticks?” I query.

“Of course,” Luke assures me with a grin.

“Then it’s a date,” I grin back, shushing the voice in my head. Who really listens to their big sister anyway?