Chapter 23 #2
“I’m not,” I counter, slightly defensive at his tone.
“But come on. You’re like a supermodel with that face and body.
Not to mention that hair.” Luke’s lips twitch slightly with the compliment, but his expression remains stern.
“And I’m… Well, I’m not even close. Not like those guys with their fancy clothes and smoldering eyes.
I mean, fuck. I still don’t know how I managed to turn your head in the first place. I’m nothing special.”
“That’s harsh. And not at all true. Do you honestly think that?”
“The evidence speaks for itself.” I give him a sardonic look. “I’m not the one being hit on every five minutes.”
“And that’s my fault?” Luke snaps, suddenly very angry. “I’m not asking for any of this.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I sigh, exasperated, feeling my temper rise to match his, almost like I have no control over it. “It’s just… You can’t possibly be ignorant of how beautiful you are.”
“I’m not,” Luke twitches uncomfortably, a flash of irritation moving over his face. He holds me captive with the intensity of his stare. “I’ve built an entire career around it, but I’m not vain because of it. I didn’t realize you were.”
“I’m not.” I defend, but it sounds weak in the face of Luke’s conviction.
“You know, having a pretty face isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s the only thing anyone sees. Nobody ever gives a shit about what makes me me. They only look at me like I’d be a good fuck.”
“Okay, now that’s harsh.”
“And yet, the evidence speaks for itself.” Luke gestures to Mr. Smolder, standing across the bar, still eyeing Luke like there’s a chance he’ll change his mind and take him up on his offer.
Luke turns away from me and downs the rest of his drink in one big gulp, simultaneously grabbing the bartender’s attention.
He wordlessly pulls out his credit card and hands it off to close out the tab, and that’s the cue that we’re done.
The mood of the evening has turned sour, and it’s unsalvageable.
What the fuck just happened?
I’m shocked by this unexpected turn in Luke’s attitude, unsure how we got here. It’s obviously my fault, but I feel like I’m missing something. I have to be.
Luke signs the receipt and gets up from the barstool without another word.
“Luke,” I beg as he brushes past me, uncaring whether or not I decide to follow.
I leave what’s left of my drink and jump up after him, but this time, he’s not waiting to make sure he doesn’t lose me. By the time I get outside, he’s already walked nearly a whole block away from the bar. I have to run to catch up to him.
“Luke, stop,” I say, reaching for his arm. He snaps it away from me, clearly still angry, but at least he stops walking. He won’t look at me.
“Whatever I said, I’m sorry,” I cry. “I wasn’t trying to make you angry.”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like not to be seen?
” Luke asks with a bitter laugh. “To be the object of attention everywhere you go, but purely superficially? I can’t just go out with friends, let alone boyfriends, without being hounded by fucking assholes who think this is all some big fucking game.
Like I’m some prize to be had and not a real person with feelings. ”
“That’s not what I’m—” I try to interject, but he keeps going, cutting me off.
“I’m the one who’s had to deal with this all my life.
And yet, it’s always a problem for everyone else, even though I’ve done nothing to ask for any of it.
I can’t stop existing in the world any more than I can stop other people from being assholes.
But somehow, it’s always my fault that this happens to me and not theirs for doing it. How is that fair?”
Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in my head, and now I understand where his anger is coming from.
Luke misunderstood my angst as a judgment against him for the attention he was getting.
As if I was blaming him for all of these guys who approached him, like he had any control over it.
Luke thinks I was accusing him of using his appearance to draw them in, when I was trying to point out that it made sense for him to get the attention, but not for me to be the object of his.
Have I always been this much of an idiot? Or does it only come out when I’m around Luke?
“Luke,” I try to interrupt again, but he ignores me and plows ahead at full speed.
“I won’t stop going out and doing what I love just because I get unwanted attention.
I won’t hide who I am to try and avoid it, either.
So, let’s call it quits now if it upsets you this much, so I don’t have to deal with the arguments and insecurity like I’m going to cheat on you because someone flirts with me at a bar—”
“God damn it, Luke. Stop!” I exclaim. Panicking at his words, I push him without thinking until his back is against the wall, and I cover my hand over his mouth, desperate for the stream of sounds pouring out of it to cease. “Just stop. Please.”
Luke jumps with the unexpected contact against the bricks before he goes perfectly still, his eyes wide, almost like a deer caught in headlights.
But at the very least, he stops talking.
As I pin him firmly against the wall, he stares at me, waiting for me to make the next move.
But I don’t know what the next move is. I didn’t think that far ahead.
I just panicked. I can feel his heart racing in time with my own, and I stare back at him in shock for a moment before I realize what this must look like to him, forcing him up against a wall, and I back away, putting distance between us. I drop my hands at my sides.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask instantly, my brow creased with worry.
Luke doesn’t move from the wall, but he eyes me warily for a moment before relaxing slightly. “No,” he says softly.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I didn’t know what else to do, and you freaked me out when you started talking about breaking up. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”
Luke sighs and shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“Look, I… I don’t want to break up with you,” I start, my voice wavering slightly. “And I’m not upset about the guys flirting with you. I know they’re assholes, and you didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m not worried about you cheating on me, for Christ’s sake. That never even crossed my mind.”
Luke seems taken aback. “Is that not what was bothering you?”
“No!” I laugh. “God, no. If I thought you were that kind of person, I don’t think we’d have made it this far.”
“Okay…” Luke shakes his head, confused. “Then what are you worried about?”
I sigh. “It’s not exactly an ego boost to have people coming up to you acting like I’m not even there.
And when I see the kinds of guys approaching you, it’s harder for me to feel confident about myself when I already don’t understand why you chose me in the first place.
I don’t know how else to articulate it, but I don’t know what you see in me—why you would rather be with me instead of someone better.
And yes, that may make me insecure, but that’s not your fault.
I’d never blame that on you. I can own my own shit. ”
Luke stares at me with genuine shock, like I’ve just solved an unsolvable puzzle on my first guess without even trying, unlocking the key to some mystery that’s been hidden away.
His expression is suddenly filled with total disbelief, all anger replaced with awe and wonder, and the way he’s looking at me sends my pulse racing.
“I mean, you’re amazing,” I blurt out, feeling heat rise to my cheeks, but I can’t stop.
The alcohol in my veins continues to make me bold.
“That’s not even the right word for it. Yes, you’re beautiful, Luke.
Breathtakingly so. It’s not a crime for me to notice it, but that’s not why I like you.
You’re also smart, with a wicked sense of humor.
You’re charming, confident, and incredibly thoughtful.
Just look at what you put together for me tonight!
And all because you picked up on one fact about me in the weeks we’ve known each other.
You’re always so well put together and know what you like.
You’re passionate and not afraid to live life however you want.
Not to mention fucking multi-talented, with a clear path ahead of you. ”
“Ethan,” Luke whispers, his face softening.
“Meanwhile,” I cut him off, “I’m rapidly approaching middle age and have done nothing noteworthy my entire life.
I’m awkward as shit, and I always seem to say the wrong things.
I’m riddled with anxiety and emotional baggage.
I’ve never left home. I don’t have any goals or ambitions, and I genuinely don’t know why you’d even want to be with me. ”
It’s a raw statement, one I feel incredibly embarrassed to have voiced, but one I’m desperate for Luke to understand so he knows exactly where I’m coming from. I never want him to think my insecurities have anything to do with him.
Luke stares at me silently for a moment before letting out a long exhale.
“I’m not as well put together as you might think,” he says softly.
“Everyone’s got problems, Ethan. I’m no exception.
And this isn’t a race to see whose life is fucked up the most. But I don’t want to go out with anyone else. I’d rather go out with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you, Ethan!” Luke laughs exasperatedly. He pushes off the wall and closes the space between us, standing directly before me. “Hasn’t it been fucking obvious with how hard I tried to impress you tonight? I like you because you’re you. Baggage and all.”
I furrow my brow and shake my head, turning to look away. Luke reaches for my face, pulling me back toward him, and he gently holds my jaw between his fingers. His eyes search mine, his expression tender.