Chapter 16 #3
My first instinct is to reach out and grab his wrist to pull him back, but the swirling cloud of anxiety about fucking things up stops me from making a move.
Instead, I lie there, staring at the brilliant string of stars in the sky, trying not to imagine Luke’s face immortalized in the infinite cosmos.
Luke sits down fully beside me, mere inches away, and it would be so easy to reach out and grab him.
I watch as he stares out across the lake stoically, the sharp line of his jaw hard set.
I’m dying to know what’s going on in that beautiful head of his.
Desperate to have him look at me and tell me what he wants. What he needs.
Suddenly, Luke releases a whole-body shiver, wrapping his arms around himself. He rubs his hands over his biceps.
“Are you cold?” I sit up quickly.
“A little,” Luke answers timidly. “But it’s okay.”
I don’t stop to think before scooching closer to him, our arms and legs brushing against each other. It should be a sin how quickly he melts into the touch, leaning into my side. I move my arm around his shoulders and feel him shivering. He’s practically shaking like a leaf.
“How are you so warm?” he whines, pressing his body closer to mine.
“I’m a furnace.” I chuckle.
“Christ, that’s not fair. I’m going to steal all your heat.”
“You can have it.”
Brushing my hands over his arms, I can tell the fabric of his sweater is incredibly thin, and I know that it won’t do shit to keep him warm. He must not have realized how cold the nights can be up here. I don’t think he brought another one, either. I frown before coming to a decision.
“Here,” I say, pulling my sweatshirt over my head. I hold it out to him.
“I don’t need your hoodie,” Luke protests. “I’m fine.”
“Take it,” I insist. “I’ve got another one at camp, and I’m not that cold. Furnace, remember?”
Luke hesitates, chewing his bottom lip as he stares at the sweatshirt in my outstretched hands.
He grumbles to himself before taking it from me, begrudgingly putting it on over his own.
It’s so much larger on his frame than mine, but somehow, it looks better on him that way.
Fucking hell. Why do I seem to have such a thing for this man wearing my clothes?
Luke settles into it nicely, his body releasing another another heavy shudder before he sighs with relief. I can already see how much warmer it makes him. Then he pulls the collar up to his nose, inhaling deeply. He groans, closing his eyes.
“God, you smell so good,” he says. “Why do you smell so good?”
My grin lights up, and the butterflies in my stomach decide to put on a three-ring circus of acrobatics. “What do I smell like?”
“Pine trees and honey.” Luke practically moans.
I can’t help but laugh. “Pine trees and honey?”
Luke grins. “It’s an effective combination.”
“I think that’s the first time anyone’s given me that combo. I’ve gotten laundry soap and Old Spice, but yours sounds better.”
“It’s definitely ‘man of the woods’ meets ‘beekeeper,’ and I’m entirely here for it.”
“Too bad I’m scared of bees.”
Luke laughs, the sound like music to my ears.
How is it possible for a person to have such an attractive laugh?
Laughs are supposed to be obnoxious, like a gremlin trying to break free, or a wheezing tea kettle threatening to boil over.
But not his. His sounds like crystal flutes or wind chimes in a summer breeze. I could listen to his laughter forever.
I really think I might explode if I don’t tell him how I feel.
When he settles again, Luke cups his hands to his lips, breathing into his palms before rubbing them together to get warm.
The little voice in my head tells me to be careful, but for the first time all night, I don’t listen as I reach out to grab his hands, holding them in my own.
I can feel how bone-chillingly cold his fingers are, and he grips me back like he’s never known warmth before.
He also doesn’t pull away as I gently brush my fingers over his knuckles, his soft skin like ecstasy beneath my touch.
My eyes are glued to our hands, and I’m too afraid to look up. My heart is suddenly beating like a steam engine barreling down the tracks, threatening to derail at any moment. Can Luke feel it in the pulse of my fingers? Does he have any idea just how terribly he’s driving me insane?
Luke squeezes my hand ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, and my breathing stops.
My eyes sweep up to meet his, and he’s looking back at me with a sort of glazed expression, his lips parted.
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion, and he lets out a shaky breath that has nothing to do with the cold.
I’m not imagining things this time. Luke is definitely giving me a look that says he wants more.
This is really happening.
I dare to lean in slowly, searching his face for any sign of hesitation or rejection, and finding none.
Instead, Luke is drawn into my movement like a magnet is pulling him forward.
Closing the distance, Luke’s eyes flutter shut, and mine do the same as our lips finally come together.
All at once, it’s like the final piece to a puzzle falling into place.