Chapter 8
Luke is staring at me in a way that has my pulse racing and thighs clenching. Maybe I’m just imagining it, but I swear I can see the outline of his hard dick in his jeans.
No way. That would be crazy.
Or maybe Liv is right. Maybe he wants me just as bad as I want him. I offered to go back to the Village to sleep but he was adamant about me staying here with him. I can’t decide if that was a protective move or a selfless one to get me alone with him. There’s only one way to find out.
Ignoring my self-doubt, I flash him a seductive smile as I dry my hair with my towel.
“Like what you see, Luke?”
His eyes slowly trace my body from head to toe before he finally meets my eyes again.
“You’re beautiful.”
Two words. That’s all it takes for my world to stop turning.
Lucas Morgan just called me beautiful. Not only that, but he’s here with me. A world away from my brother. And we’re about to share a bed that’s far too small for the two of us.
“Thank you.” It comes out on a breath and Luke’s eyes flare with heat.
I don’t miss the way his hands clench at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to reach out and touch me.
Don’t fight it. Touch me.
As if he can read my thoughts, he shakes his head. “I can’t.”
And then without another word, he makes his way into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
The click of the lock feels like a line being drawn. I saw the way he was looking at me. He does want me just as bad as I want him. But him walking away and locking the door, it felt final.
He may want me but he’s made it clear that nothing will be happening here.
Not wanting to face the humiliation and awkward conversation that is bound to happen after I just threw myself at him, I click the lights off and slide under the covers on my side of the bed.
Turning so my back is to where he’ll be sleeping, I close my eyes and try to calm my pounding heart.
Why is he fighting this? We’re both adults. We can make our own decisions. Yeah, my brother is his best friend but so what? That’s not a good enough excuse. I’m not a child anymore.
The longer Luke takes in the bathroom, the more frustrated I get.
By the time he makes his way to the bed, I’m ready to give him a piece of my mind.
I wait for him to slide under the covers before rolling over to face him.
His gorgeous face is illuminated by his phone that he holds up in front of him. I take a moment to drink in his profile. His jawline is a work of art, just visible beneath the five o'clock shadow that darkens his face. I’m tracing the line to his lips when he turns to look at me.
“Stop staring.”
I prop myself up on my elbow and rest my head in my hand, ignoring his command.
“Ya know, something I’ve always loved about you is how fearless you are.”
Luke abandons his phone next to him on the bed and rolls over onto his side, mirroring my position. His biceps bulge from the position his arm is in but after a quick glance, I focus on his face again.
His eyebrow quirks at my remark. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard what everyone said about you for choosing curling over hockey. Curling isn’t the sexiest or most aggressive sport. You never cared. You were brave enough to go after a dream no one understood. Which is why I’m so surprised you’re scared right now.”
“Scared?” His voice raises a bit as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.
“Yeah. I don’t know what you’re afraid of. You want me just as bad as I want you. If your eyes didn’t give you away, the bulge in your pants earlier sure did.”
Luke scrubs a hand down his face. “Jesus, Charlie.”
I throw my hand out, my frustration getting the best of me. “What? Don’t even try to tell me it’s not true, Luke. What’s the big deal? We’re adults who want the same thing.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose before finally looking at me again.
“It’s not a good idea. You know it’s not.”
Except I don’t.
“Actually, I don’t think it’s a bad idea at all.
We’re both stressed the fuck out. The pressure of the Olympics is damn near drowning me.
And I know you feel the same pressure. There’s a reason the Olympics have such a reputation.
We need an outlet. What’s so wrong with finding an outlet with each other? ”
Luke seems to consider my words for a moment, but just as a sliver of hope grows in my chest, it vanishes when I see him shake his head.
“It’s more complicated than that. Your brother—”
I cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “I’m going to stop you right there. Connor has nothing to do with this. He has his own shit to worry about and honestly, who the fuck cares what he thinks?”
“I care, Charlie. He’s my best friend. He was there when no one else was. You don’t know what it was like.”
His words trail off and he doesn’t need to elaborate.
I know where he was going with that. He doesn’t have to say it.
He may not have noticed but I was there too.
The day he came to our house in tears his senior year.
I was outside the door of my brother’s bedroom listening to him sob when his sister passed away.
Of course he wouldn’t want to risk that friendship. But I really don’t think he’d lose my brother.
Reaching out, I place my hand on his. “I know. I’m sorry. I would never want to put your friendship in jeopardy but I really doubt you’d lose my brother over something like this.”
“You don’t know that.”
He doesn’t pull his hand away so I keep my hand where it is and squeeze it once. “No, but I know my brother. I know he knows what it’s like to want someone he can’t have. But we can have it, Luke. You just have to let yourself.”
Luke flips his hand over and holds mine. We stare at each other, my words hanging between us.
“Can you give me a little bit to wrap my head around the situation? It’s been a long day.”
As much as I want to throw myself at this man, I need to respect that he needs time to come to terms with this.
“Of course. Night, Luke.”
I pull my hand away and turn around so I’m facing the wall again.
The bed shifts and I hear Luke set his phone on the nightstand. There’s silence for a minute before I feel the bed move again.
Just as I’m about to ask if he’s okay, I feel his arm wrap around my middle. My stomach bottoms out and I try my best to calm my breathing but there’s no use.
Luke pulls me closer until my back is against his chest. He kisses the top of my head and then whispers, “good night.”
You’d think being in his arms would keep me awake all night, but the steady weight of his hand on my stomach is enough to make me believe that this is the start of something.
So I hold onto the fact that he hasn’t let go, and as soon as his breathing evens out behind me, I let myself drift off, clinging to him in the only way I can.