Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
The rest of dinner moves by in a similar manner—a lot of heartwarming stories, laughter, and joy that leave me with a warm glow.
The drinks flow freely with tongues growing looser as more and more is consumed.
They paint a new picture of Luke and his many escapades over the years, giving me a better sense of who he is when he’s not forced to hide and shrink down to be unnoticed in a town of bigots that tried to snuff out his light.
Here, it’s obvious that he’s come alive.
It’s like looking at a new man. He’s no longer dimming his shine to avoid standing out in the crowd.
He’s bright and alluring, his entire person buzzing with electricity, and I can’t stop myself from staring at him with every word he speaks, completely mesmerized.
Every time he smiles or laughs, it sends a surge of tenderness straight through my core, and whenever he notices me watching him, his smile grows, and a twinge of fresh color paints his cheeks.
It only makes me fall harder for him. I try to memorize the fine lines of his face, every curve and swell of his sensuous lips, the bottomless well of life behind his eyes…
and I feel how much my heart aches every time I’m reminded that this won’t last. But I shove those thoughts as far back as I can to be dealt with later.
At one point, on a random impulse, I get up with the excuse to use the bathroom, only to corner our waiter at the back of the restaurant instead, handing him my credit card to pay for the entire table.
I wasn’t planning on doing this initially, but it feels right.
The waiter’s expression remains a practiced neutral, but there’s an evident curiosity behind his eyes as he returns with a receipt to sign the $800 check, and I don’t even balk about leaving a $300 tip.
I don’t say anything as I return to the table, and although I never implicitly requested his discretion, the waiter doesn’t spill the beans of my generosity as he announces that the bill has been paid.
Instead, I watch with satisfaction as everyone else gapes and whirls their head around the restaurant, trying to find their mysterious unnamed benefactor.
Only Dmitry seems to catch on to my deception as he notices my lack of confusion in the face of the rest of the table’s bewilderment, but he doesn’t say anything to give me away. He just raises his glass to me in a silent toast of gratitude, and I smile back.
Everyone is sufficiently buzzed by the time we make it back to the apartment, but the night’s not over yet. They bring out a few more bottles of wine and some cheap whiskey as we settle around their tiny living room, catching Luke up on what he’s missed since he’s been gone.
Rei and Star curl up in each other’s arms on one end of the couch while Luke and I sit on the other, Misty coiled up on Luke’s lap.
Dmitry has made a little nest of pillows and blankets on the floor, and he’s holding a Squishmallow against his chest as he nurses a whiskey sour.
The small space only amplifies the intimacy between everyone here, the very walls seeming to exude a sense of happiness.
Everyone is giddy and laughing, their joy filling the air, and even though I don’t add much to the conversation, watching them is almost more intoxicating than the alcohol.
Luke is drunk. Very drunk. His cheeks are noticeably flushed, and his words begin to slur with every new sentence as the night goes on, but he’s freer than I’ve ever seen him, his energy positively magnetizing.
He’s loud and boisterous, his laughter infectious and maddeningly adorable.
When he smiles, it sends butterflies straight through my gut, and when he touches me (he never seems to stop touching me) it’s like he transfers that energy through my skin, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
But best of all, it’s as if the weight of the world has finally been lifted from Luke’s shoulders in his drunken euphoria.
The heavy cloud of burden is all but gone in this space, replaced with a vast open sky of sunny possibilities.
I try to remember the last time I saw him this relaxed—or even the last time I’ve seen him this drunk.
I don’t think he’s ever fully let down his guard like this since I’ve met him.
It’s a stark contrast seeing him come alive in his element, truly at home around his people.
The more I see that this is where Luke truly belongs, the harder it is for me to ignore the fact that he’ll eventually leave me to come back here.
Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not even a month from now.
But one day, whenever the burden keeping him in Michigan lifts, he’ll be free to fly home, and I won’t be able to stop him.
Knowing what’s waiting for him here, I wouldn’t want to.
“Oh, no,” Luke says suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You’re doing that brooding look again.”
“What?” I frown, turning my eyes to meet his.
“There. Right there. You’re doing it again.”
I blink with confusion. “What did I do?”
“You’re overthinking about something,” Luke says. “I can tell. You’re upset.”
“I’m not,” I lie, glancing around at the others who are watching this conversation with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“Yes, you are! You can’t hide it from your face. Your eyebrows get all scrunched together, and you look intense. So serious.” Luke hiccups with a slight giggle, clearly having fun poking at me.
I can feel how my forehead scrunches with my frown, and I immediately relax my face, rolling my eyes. “No, I’m not.”
“‘He said seriously.’”
“Stop it.”
“‘He commanded with the intensity of someone who is very serious.’”
“If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll shut it for you,” I laugh, unable to help myself.
“Oh yeah?” Luke’s eyes narrow. “Prove it.”
So I do. Even though we’re not alone, I grab Luke by the shirt and pull him into me without hesitation, kissing him like no one is watching.
There are a few ‘oohs and awws’ from the others, but it barely registers in my brain as Luke quickly melts into me with a big smile, his arms reflexively going up around my neck.
My hand drifts down to his waist, my fingers finding the little dip where they fit so well.
Except the moment I touch his side, Luke tenses, letting out a soft gasp, and he pulls back with a noticeable wince of pain.
“Wha—” I start to ask, but then Luke suddenly jumps up from the couch, Misty leaping from his lap with a disgruntled mew, and he declares that he needs to pee, cutting me off before I can address what just happened.
Without another word, he sways around the couch and down the hall toward the bathroom, leaving me stunned and confused.
There’s a sudden knot of angst in my chest, and when I turn my attention back to the others, I see the same confusion mirrored in their expressions.
No one says anything, but a sense of mutual concern makes me feel like we’re all on the same wavelength.
Eventually, when Luke reemerges from the bathroom, I see he’s ditched his contacts for his glasses, his eyes slightly red-rimmed, and I wonder if they’d been bothering him or if he was crying.
After making himself another drink, he returns to the couch and sits down next to me with his characteristic, dazzling smile—a deflection I’ve become all too familiar with.
I lean into it for now, not wanting to get into yet another fight about what he’s not telling me while we’re in front of his friends.
As the night goes on, I manage to keep my worries at bay. Luke’s so happy and bright that it’s not hard to forget that there’s something to be worried about.
When the alcohol starts to drag Luke down with fatigue, he lays his head on my lap, and I brush my hand through his hair while we listen to the others talk. Misty eventually returns and curls up in Luke’s arms, purring as he lazily strokes her dark fur.
But when his whole body finally goes limp with exhaustion, and I’m confident he’s out for the night, my curiosity gets the better of me. Gently, I reach out and lift the edge of Luke’s shirt, pulling the fabric back to expose the skin underneath.
“Oh my god!” Star gasps in horror when she sees the massive bruise I had hoped wasn’t there.
Rei and Dmitry snap up quickly at the outcry, moving closer to see the mottled skin below Luke’s ribcage.
It looks a few days old, with the yellow and green starting to form around the edges, but that only makes it look more gnarly.
“How did that happen?” Dmitry asks.
I can’t help but frown, tracing my fingers delicately across Luke’s skin. He’s so out cold that he doesn’t even seem to notice.
“He fell down the stairs,” I say softly, repeating the flimsy excuse he told me. It sounds just as wrong coming out of my mouth as it did out of his.
The three roommates exchange wary glances that only an idiot would miss, and a pit forms in my stomach.
“That feels wrong to you, too, doesn’t it?” I ask.
“Is that what he told you happened?” Star asks, frowning.
I nod. “A few weeks ago, I found a massive welt on his shoulder, and he said he’d walked into an open cupboard.
Last week, he got this cut,” I add, gesturing to the healing skin hiding underneath his hairline.
“He said he’d tripped and fallen down the stairs.
This must have happened at the same time. ”
“That doesn’t sound like him.”
“He claims he’s naturally clumsy.” I shrug.
“Clumsy?” Rei scoffs, indignant. “Luke’s a dancer. Have you seen how he moves? He’s more graceful than a swan. No. That looks like someone got their hands on him.”