19
ELEANOR
For once, Luke does not know the next right thing to do. At least he’s not pretending he knows. He’s staring at me, waiting for me, beholden to me.
An idiotic gentleman.
Fuck it. Fuck my ex and fuck Chicago and fuck the past.
Now, it’s Luke. And it’s Austin. And it’s now .
“You should probably thank him,” I say softly.
Luke’s eyebrows lift.
“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.”
Luke lifts his chin and smiles. “You know what? You’re right. I owe him.”
I grab the edge of the bench behind us, a subtle movement to get closer to Luke. I let my eyes fall to his mouth, and then lift back to his dreamy blue eyes. He’s like a fucking Ken doll. A hotter, cowboy version of Ken.
“Eleanor?”
“Yes, Luke.” I say it like an answer to the unasked question. I feel it, the connective energy between us, urging us closer together. I’m not saying no anymore. Not when I’ve captivated his attention from the moment he saw me.
In an instant, every self-conscious thought I’ve had about our differences washes away. So what if he’s the pretty boy and I’m the bookish girl? This isn’t high school. It’s real life. And in real life, we feel without reason. Without plan.
God, do I feel for him.
As Luke takes my hand and flattens it against his chest, I can feel his heart pounding against my palm. Mine beats at the same pace if not faster. Both our hearts hot and furious with us. Get on with it, they say.
With both his hands free, he cups my cheeks in his hands. His thumb coasts along my cheekbone tenderly.
Aw fuck it. Idiotic gentlemen don’t hurry moments, but fake cowgirls do. I close the small gap between our lips and in a split second, we’re kissing.
We’re kissing.
Luke’s lips are insistent, pressing against mine with a need that has been building for a long time. I can only imagine I’m kissing him with the same intensity. I’ve never had a kiss this explosive and chaste at once. Tongues aren’t rolling, we’re not tangled up in bed, and yet I feel hot all over. Pretty sure it’s not just the fire doing that.
Luke’s lips part from mine, but he remains in my space, breathing into my mouth. “You’re full of surprises, Eleanor.”
Enough talking. I’ve been talking and thinking for ages now. Give me more.
I loop my arms around his neck and kiss him again, this time delving my tongue between his lips. Luke inhales sharply through his nose in surprise, but he doesn’t dare draw away. As I thread my fingers through his soft locks, he slides a hand around my waist, pulling me as close as the bench will allow without us making a complete scene.
He grabs my hat off my head and tosses it aside, then fingers my curls intensely, palm stretching out against the back of my head.
I’m flushed everywhere. And though I have wanted him for his kindness and charm for weeks now, I first wanted him with my body.
The throbbing between my legs is not going to let me forget about that any time soon.
“Woo! That’s right!” someone cheers and I realize when they “Woo!” again, they’re directing their cheering at us.
I draw away first, blinking my eyes open and realizing my glasses are fogged up.
Luke might not have glasses, but his gaze is fogged over too. I don’t think he even noticed that someone was flinging jeering in our direction.
Once I clear off my lenses, I look in the direction of the patio.
There’s Dave. Rooting us on, holding another glass of whatever he’s been drinking.
I shake my head. What a weirdo.
“Should we go?” Luke asks low in my ear.
I snatch another short kiss from him. “Yeah, let’s go.”
* * *
The drive back to my apartment is quiet except for the radio. We’ve been in this car so many times, but the air has never been this charged. The potential has always lingered, but now it is mutually agreed upon. The stage has been set. What comes next is up to both of us to create.
My heart pounds as Luke pulls the car over and he murmurs, “Let me walk you to the door.” I’ve done this song and dance before. Sure, he can walk me up to the door and then walk me in the door, then into my apartment, then into my bedroom . . .
I don’t usually move so fast with someone, but hell, we’ve built a relationship. It’s not like we’re strangers who met tonight and are going to go down in a blaze of glory.
It will mean something.
Luke opens my door for me, takes my hand to help me out, and doesn’t let go. We cross the street hand in hand, up the stairs to my door, and then . . .
“You’re right, dancing was fun,” I say as I root through my bag for my keys.
“Oh, I’m glad it wasn’t too torturous for you.”
I glance at him. Luke is leaned up against the door frame. Quintessential cowboy.
“Where are my keys?” I ask myself aloud, feeling self-conscious he’s standing there watching me.
Suddenly, he pushes me up against the door, right next to the call box. Body on body. There is hunger in his eyes. A hunger I would like to sate.
Luke drags his thumb along my jaw to my chin. “Man, you’re beautiful.”
“Oh. Thanks,” I say. What an idiotic thing to say.
“You’re welcome,” he says with a kindly nod. Southern fucking hospitality at its finest. Then he kisses me.
I grab his sides as tight as I can, inspired by primal need. I’d fall if he weren’t pressed so hard against me. And speaking of hard, I’m not sure if his belt buckle is digging into my belly or something else. I’d welcome the latter.
Before I can sneak my tongue into his mouth again, Luke withdraws and kisses the corner of my mouth, then my cheek, then the hinge of my jaw. He stops at my ear. So close that I can hear the saliva move in his mouth as he decides what to do. “I want—” he stops short of finishing his sentence.
“I want” hovers in the air. We are both wanting. That much is clear.
Luke gulps as he lets out a breath. “I want you so bad, but I’m not coming up tonight.”
My tingling nerves screech to a halt, an eighteen-car pile-up of senses.
“Not to assume you’d invite me up, but . . .” Luke says, resting one arm over my head, his free hand on my waist.
“No, that was on my mind.”
For a man who was just whispering how badly he wanted me, he looks remarkably calm. “I don’t want to rush it. Don’t want you to think that’s all I’m after. Cause trust me, I’m after a whole lot more.”
How can I resist smiling at that?
“How’s that for southern hospitality?”
I thwack him in the chest. “Rude.”
Luke laughs and pulls me into his arms though I’m trying to squirm away. Trying and very purposefully failing. “I’m teasing you.”
“And I hate how much I love it,” I grumble.
Luke leans down for another kiss, and I rise to meet him on my tiptoes, his arms wrapped around my shoulders as close as two people can be. I imagine we resemble two characters in an old movie. Kissing with an unearthly amount of passion.
“Can I see you again?” Luke whispers against my mouth.
“Obviously.”
He grins, then kisses my forehead. “Goodnight, Eleanor.”
I sigh mournfully, gripping the front of his shirt. “Goodnight, Luke.”
He gives me one more kiss before he releases me. The second I am no longer surrounded by the vise of his arms, my body wilts.
I try not to watch him go, or else I might be tempted to run after him. I reach into my bag and find my keys immediately. Guess I should thank them for being a pain in the ass earlier, bought me some extra time with him.
I unlock the front door and glance back at Luke’s car. He’s standing by the front door waiting for me to get inside.
He has the nerve to tip the brim of his hat down, a smirk on his lips. I’m reminded of the throbbing pulse in my core.
Fucking cowboys.