Chapter Thirty-Four #3
“You scared the shit out of me.” I look him in the eye. “Frank’s a wild card. He had a knife at your….” The word gets lost as the image suddenly chokes me up, as if I’m watching it happen again in real time, a surge of fresh terror spiking through my body.
“I’m sorry,” Luke replies, barely more than a whisper.
I can tell he means it. There are tears in his eyes as he looks at me like he can’t imagine ever having done something to be the cause of my distress.
“But I knew he wouldn’t follow through. It’s not the first time he’s gotten to that point with me, and no matter how tough he acts, he’s not a murderer. ”
“Everyone can get there,” I insist tensely. “Especially when they’re that angry and drunk. Frank could have easily lost his mind and taken things too far, and then where would you be?”
“I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’m sorry.”
I nod, accepting the apology offered, but I can still feel the anxiety coursing through my whole body.
I go back to cleaning up Luke’s chin, returning my focus to the task at hand.
We’re silent for a moment before Luke pulls my hand away, grasping it firmly in his own.
He stares at our joined fingers with a pinched brow.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice wavering. “I shouldn’t have exposed him like that. I thought I would feel better about it, but it just feels…ugly. And wrong.”
“He deserved it,” I reply sincerely. “He deserves everything he gets after how he’s treated you.”
“He’s a bully and an asshole, but he’s still a person, Ethan,” Luke reasons, a flash of anger moving through his stark blue eyes as he looks back up at me.
“He may have started it, and he may have gotten violent, but I’m no better than he is by exposing him like that.
He’s deeply repressed and closeted, but that doesn’t make it right to out him like that because I was angry.
I should have resisted the temptation, but I was so desperate to get back at him. ”
I brush my thumb over his cheek as a tear spills over, and he wipes a hand at his nose, averting his gaze again.
I get the distinct image of him looking just like this back when he was a kid, after getting beaten up—bleeding and miserable, but still trying to hold a stiff upper lip.
It’s stubbornly obstinate, and yet I can’t help but find it ridiculously adorable.
It fills me with anger and sadness when I reflect on how wildly different our childhoods were.
I run my fingers through Luke’s hair until his face softens from the caress. Then he looks at me again, and I see his resolve wavering. He’s holding on by a thread.
“It’s too late to take it back now,” I say softly. “This time tomorrow, the whole town will have heard. It’s going to spread like wildfire.”
Luke drops his head with a quiet sob, his tears flowing freely now.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay?” I try and soothe.
“If you ask me, Frank did this to himself. He behaved abominably back there, and I was so pissed that no one else even tried to stop him. He got off easy by having his dirty laundry exposed. I was gunning to break every bone in his body until he was a pile of goo on the floor.”
Luke looks at me incredulously, but I’m quite serious. And as he studies my face, I watch as the realization dawns over his features that I honestly might have done it had he not held me back. He seems genuinely awed, then confused.
“That’s pervertedly chivalrous of you.” He sniffs. “No one’s ever offered to liquify another person to protect my honor before.”
I can’t help but smirk. “Not everyone’s worth the privilege. Just say the word, and I’ll run back in there and turn Frank into soup.”
Luke huffs a blubbery laugh, but as he smiles, the cut on his lip stretches, opening back up again, and he groans. I take a new napkin and press it to the wound, my brows furrowing. He wipes the tears from his eyes and lets out a shaky breath.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, the soft skin of his lips brushing against my fingertips at his mouth, sending a flutter straight up my arm. He puts his hand over mine and gives me a look of such sincerity that my heart melts.
Five minutes ago, I was genuinely afraid Luke was going to die.
Now that the danger has passed, I’m immediately overcome with an urge to kiss him, the need consuming my soul.
I lean forward, searching his handsome face for any reluctance as I brush my free hand along the curve of his jaw, but he seems equally as eager for me to be closer to him.
I put our foreheads together, and he closes his eyes with relief at my touch.
I can feel his tension fade, and I tilt my head slightly to brush our lips together, barely more than a whisper of connection on the side of his mouth away from his injury.
“What are you doing?”
Luke and I snap apart at the sharp gasp, and we both turn to find Chrissy standing next to the door.
She’s holding a glass of water in her hand while gripping napkins to her chest, looking very much like a scandalized suburban housewife clutching her pearls after witnessing something unsavory.
She’s staring openmouthed at the two of us, and my heart drops to my stomach at the look of horror on her face.
“Chrissy…” I hear myself start, but my head suddenly fills with white noise as panic surges through my veins. My whole body freezes, and my heart starts racing—the involuntary reaction going against logic and reason, but gripping me fully.
“What the fuck were you doing, Ethan?” she asks again, the sharpness of her tone making me flinch. I can’t do anything but gape at her in shock, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat.
It’s only when Luke reaches up to take my hands away from his face that I come back to some conscious awareness.
I turn to him with wide eyes, seeing how he looks as mortified as I feel, his face slightly pale.
But there’s a firm resignation behind his eyes as he releases me, a quiet acceptance written in his expression as he searches my face before dropping his gaze.
His jaw clenches, and he turns away. It’s peculiar, almost like he’s bracing for some kind of brutal impact.
My brain feels sluggish, even as it races with a million ideas about what he could be thinking, trying to decipher his reaction.
Then my heart all but stops as understanding hits me like a comet crashing to earth, digging a crater in my chest, zapping all the air from my lungs.
He’s bracing himself for the moment I deny our relationship to save face, throwing all the blame on him as if I wasn’t actively participating in that kiss.
He’s expecting me to push him away, like he honestly thinks I’m going to hide the truth at the first test of exposure because I’m still not ready to come out yet.
And what’s worse, he’s clearly willing to let me do it, like some self-sacrificial lamb readily offering himself up for slaughter—penance to assuage his guilty conscience for exposing Frank earlier.
All of these thoughts flit over his face as clearly as if I were reading them from a page in a book. It roots me to the spot, gripping my heart in a vise. In that split second of recognition, it becomes abundantly clear to me what I have to do—what I should have done much sooner.
I reach out and grab Luke’s hand from his lap, squeezing his fingers tightly.
He nearly recoils from the touch, snapping his head up to gape at me in surprise.
Then he studies my face quickly before frowning with genuine concern.
The question in his eyes is crystal clear.
Are you sure this is what you want to do?
With a small smile, I squeeze his hand in answer, my eyes never leaving his.
“I was kissing my boyfriend,” I state firmly, the words fitting nicely in my mouth. The quiet relief in Luke’s eyes bolsters my resolve that this is the right call.
“You’re joking, right?” Chrissy sneers, her voice dripping with disgust. “This isn’t funny, Ethan.”
I look at her with confusion. “I’m not laughing.”
This seems to bring her up short, and for a moment, she just stares at me in utter disbelief.
Then her face swiftly goes dark, and it’s like watching her shift into a completely different person at the flip of a switch.
Gone is the girlish charm, the aura of sugar and sundrops, replaced with a snarling demon looking to draw blood instead.
“Do you mean to tell me this is why you didn’t want to go out with me?” she snaps. Her tone is incredulous, and I feel my whole body tense as she emphasizes ‘this,’ like she’s referring to Luke specifically as a thing rather than referring to the situation itself.
“Only in part,” I say honestly, my brows furrowing.
Chrissy laughs. It’s laced with cruelty, but there's something more—something I can’t quite put my finger on.
“So, you’re fucking him,” she says harshly.
I frown, still on the edge of confusion. “We’re dating, yes.”
Chrissy laughs dryly. “I’m such an idiot. You played me for such a fool.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You asked me out. You wanted to go out on a date. We kissed.” Chrissy’s face goes slightly pale with horror, and she brings her fingers to her lips as if she can still feel the sensation, the memory bringing a new wave of disgust. “You lied to me.”
“I never lied to you, Chrissy.” I shake my head. “I told you that we weren’t a good fit.”
“While casually omitting the fact that you’re a fucking faggot,” she snaps, and I recoil slightly at the unexpected hatred dripping from her words, along with the surprising slur. Coming from her, it feels so much crueler. I didn’t think she was capable of such vitriol.