Chapter Twenty-Nine
V : Are you alone? Call me.
LUKE : That sounds very enticing. Are you going to tell me what you’re wearing?
V : Omg, just call me.
LUKE : Haha, just a sec.
About a minute later, my phone rang in my hand, and I forced myself to wait an appropriate five seconds before answering.
“Are you prepared to be totally honest with me?”
“Hello to you too.”
“Yeah, I don’t really know if I can be nice to you until you answer my question.”
He sighed. “Yes, I’m prepared.”
“Did you, or did you not, see Liv making out with Zack on campus on Friday before you saw me in the parking lot?”
I felt pretty secure in the formation of my question, like I was an investigator.
“What?”
“You heard the question.”
“No, V, I didn’t see them making out . I would have told you.”
“Would you, though?”
“Yes. Stop. I would have. I did see her talking to him, which is why I looked at you weird when you said you were waiting for her. But for all I knew she was ripping him a new one for everything that happened. I couldn’t hear their conversation, and I sure as hell didn’t see them making out.
Jesus. Please tell me she doesn’t know about—”
“No. She doesn’t. No one does but you.” I hated that my voice sounded small when I answered. I was just so relieved that I didn’t have to be angry with him that I couldn’t control it.
“Shit V, you didn’t tell anyone ? I should have been better about checking on you.”
“Stop, you’re not responsible for me. And you did check on me. And drive me to and from campus, and take me out, and dance with me in the park. I think your conscience is clear.”
“And I totally got you all hot and bothered on your front porch, don’t leave that—”
“Please stop talking immediately before I hang up on you.”
He just laughed. “I’m coming over.”
“I didn’t invite you.”
“Yeah, but you want me to.”
“Now you’re just annoying me.”
“I’ll even wear a tank top.”
“One, it’s fifty-five degrees outside, and two, why do I care if you wear a tank top?”
“Please don’t pretend like you’re not totally into my guns.”
“Are you even a real person right now?” I asked, shaking my head even though he couldn’t see me. A reluctant smile crept across my face, however, because he wasn’t wrong.
Damn it , I thought, not really wanting him to know that he affected me. He was still laughing on the other end of the line.
“So that’s a yes on the coming over and the tank top, then.”
“Goodbye Lucas,” I teased.
“See you in ten,” he replied in the same sing-song tone.
Intently, I stared at my closet for a good eight minutes, convincing myself I wasn’t going to change clothes because I didn’t care if he liked my outfit or not.
It was just that the gray-wash jeans and the off-the-shoulder black and white sweater were so much newer than what I had on.
There was a thing about new clothes. They just hung there having never been wrinkled or folded the wrong way or left in the dryer for three days. They were so crisp and clean.
Even while giving myself a disapproving look in the mirror, I knew it was silly to resist. Forty-five seconds later my clothes were changed, my lip gloss was reapplied, and Luke’s truck was in the driveway. Smiling, I let him wait at the door for a bit before answering.
“Aw, you bought a new outfit just for me,” he commented, stepping inside.
“I did not,” I argued, my face flushing.
He reached towards me and pulled the tag from my sleeve.
“‘Kay.” His grin almost overtook his face at that point.
“Whatever. Shut up.” He had shown up in a gray canvas jacket and jeans, and it made me even madder that I was feeling actual disappointment that he wasn’t in a tank top.
Stupid .
He grabbed my hand to start towards the basement, but I wrenched it away and walked ahead of him down the stairs.
“Don’t be all butt-hurt that I called out your outfit. You look amazing. I should have led with that, okay? Now let me hold your hand,” he insisted as he walked up behind me.
“Fine.”
“And let me kiss you hello.”
“Fine,” I repeated, feeling his hand slip into mine.
He smelled like he’d just gotten out of the shower, though his face had a bit of stubble that tickled my face when he pressed his lips to mine.
This struck me as funny. It wasn’t that I’d never kissed anyone with facial hair before, but it made him seem more man-ish, which was ludicrous because I’d known him since he was twelve.
His large hands held my hips tightly and he kissed me like he’d been missing me. Maybe I’d been missing him too.
“Do you guys need snacks?” my mother called down to us, causing us to break apart. Rather than backing away, however, he wove his fingers back through mine and kept me close.
“No, I think we’re good, Mom!” I yelled back, trying to sound like I wasn’t out of breath.
“That’s a lie,” Luke added. “I would love a snack!”
“Coming right up! ”
“Your funeral,” I murmured. “I hope you like roasted chickpeas.”
“Wait, what?” he asked, now concerned.
His worry made me laugh, hoping my mom really did bring down something disgusting.
“So, are we watching The Little Mermaid , or what?” I asked, plopping down on the couch and arranging the pillows accordingly.
“Do it up. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen it.”
“Excuse me?”
“What? It’s not a guy movie. I don’t have any sisters.”
“I don’t know what kind of childhood you must have had.”
“Not seeing The Little Mermaid was the least of my problems. But let’s do it, come on. I’m on the edge of my seat.”
“What does that—” I began but was interrupted by a tray of Oreos. “What are these?” I demanded accusatorily at the woman who claimed to be my mother.
“A snack?”
“No, no, no. Where are the rice crackers or the hummus or the flax seed muffins? How were these even in the house and I didn’t know about it?”
“Honestly, Vanessa, you’re too dramatic. Just eat your cookies.”
“I am not going to forget about this!” I called as my mom sauntered back upstairs.
“And to think you didn’t even want a snack. I guess these are mine then.”
“Touch my cookie and you will lose a hand,” I warned seriously, moving my Oreos safely to a napkin on the end table while I readied the DVD.
“If I get scared, will you protect me?” he asked. The intentionally vulnerable look on his handsome face made me let out something between a resigned sigh and a laugh.
“Yes. If you and your big guns get scared, let me know. ”
“I knew you liked them,” he grinned, unzipping his jacket slowly, and, I assumed, trying to look sexy. Sure enough, he had on a green and white striped tank top underneath, and he casually flexed as he laid the jacket across the back of the couch. “You can touch them, I don’t mind.”
“You are a special breed of conceited.”
“Would you like me any other way?”
“Who says I like you this way?” I asked, brow raised, and then squealed because he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me onto his lap so quickly my feet were airborne. He easily held my wrists and tickled me with his other hand.
“Ohmygoddonottickleme,” I got out between bouts of laughter.
“You are a mean girl, Vanessa Roberts,” he declared, “and now you have to tell me that you are totally in lust with my biceps. Or I will continue to tickle you. And I have a lot of energy, so don’t think you can just wait it out.”
To prove his point, his fingers snaked lightly across my ribcage, and I squirmed, no matter how I tried to fight it. I thought about just kicking him in the head, but that seemed extreme.
“Fine. I like your arms,” I gasped.
“No, no, no. You’re in lust with them,” he repeated, pressing his fingers into my sides harder. I could hear the opening music to the movie playing just under my involuntary giggles.
“Okayokayokayokay, I’m in lust with them just stop it!” He released my hands and sat me up on his lap, wrapping his arms around me.
“I can’t believe you said that, V, you’re so forward.
It’s making me blush,” he teased me, prompting me to elbow him in the abdomen.
He finally released me completely and laughed, rubbing his side.
“I’m just trying to watch this Disney classic, geez.
Can you try to keep your hands to yourself for the next hour? ”
“Oh, I’ll have no problem with that,” I assured him, stuffing an Oreo in my face.
I got comfy two full cushions away from him and continued to enjoy my snack and sing along to the first songs of the movie.
Luke took that opportunity to lay all nearly six-and-a-half feet of himself across the couch, ending up with his head on my lap.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” I said back.
“Can I take back what I said about you keeping your hands to yourself? That was dumb. Will you rub my head?”
“Will I what your what?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, woman, just like run your nails through my hair.”
“That is a weird request.”
“No, it’s not, it feels good. C’mon, I danced with you to the Backstreet Boys. In public.”
“There was no one else there.”
“There’s no one else here .”
“Ugh, fine,” I agreed, mostly because he looked so earnest when he asked.
He re-situated himself so that his head was resting comfortably on my thighs. I began to comb my nails through his hair, and it was surprisingly soft and thick between my fingers.
“Okay, well you can’t just stare at me while I do it. You have to watch the movie.”
He just smiled and shifted his body so he was facing the TV. I continued to eventually let my nails run down his neck, and I scratched his shoulders and his back lightly. Despite the fact that we weren’t even kissing, this felt more intimate than anything I’d done with Zack.
“That feels good,” Luke sighed.
I risked tracing a trail down his bare arm, confirming that I liked that particular part of his anatomy. I didn’t have that kind of intel on him, but, being a guy, I could guess where his favorite female body parts were.
“Do I have to watch this whole movie before I can kiss you? ”
“Yes. It’s mandatory,” I answered seriously.
“It’s kind of hot when you hand out demands.”
I laughed and swatted his arm. The way he could so easily jump between sweet, vulnerable Luke and conceited, inappropriate Luke was sort of starting to grow on me. I liked them both for very different reasons.
With one fluid movement, he pushed himself up to a standing position in front of me and scooped me off of the sofa like a bride being carried over the threshold.
I let out a squeak but was otherwise amused.
Turning, he sat down and situated me on his lap, effectively reversing our positions.
His eyes gave me a “now what?” look. I kissed his cheeks, the stubble along his jaw, his ears, and his forehead.
He leaned in to find my mouth, but I evaded him.
“I’m pretty sure I said you had to watch the whole movie first.”
The new look said something like “challenge accepted,” and he changed tactics. Instead, he pressed light kisses along my neck and down my collarbone before heading back up the other side.
This was ticklish in a completely different way. When he found the spot beneath my ear that only he had discovered, I was done playing. It appeared that he was too, and he let me break my own rule without another word. When we finally shut up long enough to connect, it was all kinds of right.
“Vanessa, is Luke staying for dinner?” my mom called out, causing me to jump and remember where I was.
“Is it tofu related?” he whispered softly.
“He says he would love to, and he hopes you’re making tofu!” I yelled back, giggling at his irritated expression.
“You know I’m going to tickle you again now, right?”
“Worth it to see you eat tofu.”