Chapter 18 Unfiltered & Off Script Luna
Unfiltered & Off Script
Luna
I’m rubbing my hands together, trying to ease the nervous flutter in my stomach.
Why am I so nervous about this? Right, because I let my irritation get the better of me and snapped at Beau.
Now I’m going to ask him a favor. I’m not sure what got over me, but I think things were getting too close to friendly for my liking, so I lashed out.
It was a flippant comment, but he looked genuinely hurt by my words.
His head is bent, concentrating on the bottle of hand sanitizer he’s squirting onto a palm as he steps out of the dressing room. So engrossed he doesn’t notice me standing there, shifting from one foot to the other.
I clear my throat, and he fumbles the bottle. We both reach out to catch it, hockey instincts kicking in, and end up bumping shoulders and missing the thing entirely. It clatters to the floor as if to sound out our failure.
Instead of reaching down to grab it, his hand closes around my biceps to steady me. I shiver at the warmth spreading through my arm at his touch.
“What’s up, Wilder? You stalking me again?”
I take a step back, ducking down to pick up the tiny bottle. I need to break the contact with him. My words get all tangled up in my throat when he’s touching me. I can’t think straight.
“No. But I wanted to apologize.”
He tilts his head, reaching a hand up to comb his fingers through his slicked-back hair.
My eyes track that hand, then drop back to his chest to avoid direct eye contact.
He doesn’t seem to be a fan, and neither am I.
He’s much better at pretending than I am, though, so if I didn’t have the same problem, I don’t think I’d have noticed.
If I was expecting him to make this easier for me, he’s not going to. He lets the weighty silence hang between us until I wrangle my words. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. I have no idea what it’s like to be you. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
When I gather the courage to look up at him, he leaves me hanging. The smug smile painted on his face makes me want to reassess my judgment. Maybe he really is the cocky rich boy happy to humble me.
“And?” he asks.
“And what?”
“You said you wanted to apologize, but that wasn’t an apology.”
Why does he have to be so freaking obnoxious? “What?” I replay the words in my head. Right. “You’re a bit of a dick, you know?”
“I know.” His words are broken up by laughter.
“I’m sorry. You happy?”
“I’m delighted. And it’s fine. I’m used to it.”
His confession twists the vice around my heart even tighter.
“We good now?” He shifts on his feet as if he’s about to leave, but I’ve got another question for him. The one that’s harder to voice than the apology was. I shoot out an arm, placing a palm on his chest to stop him from stepping past me.
“One more thing.”
He eases back on his heels. “Uh huh. Need a ride home?”
“Umm, well maybe. Is there any way I can come home with you?”
His smirk blooms into a full smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes and shows off the perfect, shiny white teeth.
There’s a solid chance those teeth resulted from thousands of dollars of dental work.
Might not be a literal million-dollar smile, but I’m sure there are at least five figures invested in it.
But that doesn’t make it any less appealing.
“You want to come home with me, Wilder? Do you really think that’s a good idea?” His tone drips with honey and heat.
“What? No, not like that. To visit Bluebeard. If it’s okay. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Oh. Too bad.” Too bad? But he continues before I’ve had time to process. “Of course you can. I promise he’s still alive. It’s not like I’ve been starving him.”
“I never said you were.” Why does he have to be so infuriating? Misunderstanding everything I say on purpose. “I just want to visit. See how he’s settling in.”
“No problem. We do roommate dinners every Sunday. You can join us. There’s always way too much food. Dev cooks enough to feed the entire team for a week. Bonus points for deliciousness. He’s a fantastic cook.”
My heart sinks. “I don’t want to interrupt your roommate bonding time or anything. I can come another day.” He reaches out when I turn to leave, trying not to let the disappointment drag my shoulders down. His palm is a solid weight on my shoulder.
“It’s fine. My sister is going to be there anyway. I could use the backup. I’m still not a hundred percent used to her and Lucy together.”
“Are you sure? The other guys won’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure, Wilder. Besides, like I said before, I’m pretty sure JJ is half in love with you. And the other guys are cool. Come on. I’m parked out back. You got all your stuff?”
I swing my backpack around to show him, nodding.
“Good. Let’s go.”
He pivots, long strides eating up the hallway, and I have to rush after him to keep up. Once again, he’s thrown me off balance.
It’s easy to sink into the soft leather seat of his high-end SUV.
Guilt is riding me as I look around the immaculate interior.
Anywhere but at him. Not a speck of dust on the dashboard or a smear of dirt on the mats.
An impressive feat for late winter here in Michigan.
It shouldn’t surprise me judging by his general appearance, but I think I was expecting to uncover some flaw in here.
But the air smells like a fresh breeze just blew through rather than a sweaty equipment bag, and there’s not a single empty cup or crumpled receipt.
He lets me sit there, studying his car, while trying to tamp down the curiosity that’s been riding me since he made the comment about his life.
I shouldn’t want to dig deeper. Get to know him better.
But I do. I can’t help it. Maybe it’s all part of his plan.
Lure me into blurting out all my secrets.
The way he leaves silences hanging in the air…
it’s like an open invitation to fill with confessions.
“I really am sorry.” I finally blurt out, rotating my neck the tiniest bit to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He’s sitting at the wheel, back straight, one hand casually resting on the top of the leather-wrapped wheel, the other tapping a repeating rhythm on his knee.
“For what?” He sounds confused, as if the things I’ve been freaking out about had zero impact.
“For calling you an entitled rich asshole. Basically.”
“Did you call me an asshole?” The car glides to a stop at a red light, and the hybrid engine powers down. It’s eerie. He takes his eyes off the road for a moment, turning to me with a curved blond brow.
“Well, not exactly.”
“But that’s what you meant to say?”
I pick at the perfect purple polish coating my nails. Peeling at the smooth surface until a satisfying chip appears, I’m immediately annoyed with myself. Now I’m going to have to repaint that one.
“No.” Shit. “That’s not what I meant. I was tired, and I let the hunger monster possess my vocal cords. It was a bitch move.”
“Did you not eat today? I’ve got snacks. Dinner will probably be ready when we get back to my place, but if you need to eat now, help yourself. They’re in the glove box.”
He lets people eat in his car? No way am I falling for that. I’d be afraid of getting a single crumb on the upholstery. I wonder if he has one of those mini vacuums stashed in the back. But that’s beside the point.
“I’m good. And it’s not an excuse, but it’s true. I have no idea what your life is like, and I shouldn’t be judging you based on appearances.”
He laughs. “So, you think I look like a rich asshole?”
Um, obviously yes.
“I get it. And I am. You’re right. But it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Yeah?” I leave the question lingering in the space between us, turning to face the window. Houses and trees slide by as I try his own trick on him, hoping he’ll fill the silence.
He doesn’t respond for so long I think I’ve failed, but then he clears his throat.
“Yes, I’ve had all the privileges you can imagine growing up.
The best clothes, vacations, cars. But there are certain expectations that come with being born into the Whitaker family.
Like my sister. You’ll get to know her a little better tonight.
Or a lot. She’s a little more open than I am.
And by that, I mean she’ll be happy to tell you her life story before dessert. ”
“You guys eat dessert?”
He snorts. “No, but you know what I mean. She’s open, and friendly, and trusting. But she’s been burned too many times, and she’ll be the first one to tell you how she ended up here at Lakeview.”
“Got a little too friendly with a statue?” Of course I heard about it. Saw the pictures and videos. It was all over social media.
“Right. You got it. And Lucy, you know Dev. She started dating him last year, and it turned into this big thing. He’s not good enough for my father, stepmother.
One of the best guys I know. What a bunch of bullshit.
But that’s the way it is. Cece will move past it.
She’s almost done school. The only reason she ever goes home now is so I don’t have to struggle through the experience alone, but after graduation, who knows?
She’ll move on. It’s not so easy for me, though. ”
I mull over everything he said. He revealed a lot about his family, but very little about himself. He’s very guarded. And I get it. He has to be. Growing up under the scrutiny of the entire Internet like that. But I wish he would. I want to understand him better.
“And…”
The turn signal clicks on, and he swings into the driveway of a beautiful house. “We’re here. Home sweet home.”
It’s lovely. Pristine. Just like his car. Precisely trimmed ornamental hedges squat in front of the large front porch. A wooden swing sways slightly in the breeze. Idyllic. Way nicer than any other college house I’ve ever seen. But it suits him.
I’m still taking it all in when my door swings open and he holds out a hand. I stare at it, unclip my seat belt, and swing my legs around to the side to slip out.
He snags my elbow as I’m sliding down when I ignore the offered hand.
“This isn’t the 1800s. I don’t need help to get out of a vehicle.”
“I know. But I’d hate to get tangled up in a lawsuit if you slipped and fell getting out of my car.”
There’s not a hint of humor on his face. Not even a slight twitch of the lips. “Did that actually happen to you?”
And then I know I’ve been had because his face cracks into a grin. “No. I was being a gentleman. Never met one?”
“You dick.”
He grabs my other arm before my fist lands. “So you’ve told me. Come on. I’m starving, and I’m sure Bluebeard is dying to see you.”
Bluebeard. How could I forget the entire reason I came home with him?
It is the entire reason, right? Better not to analyze that any deeper.
That heady electricity that zips through me at his touch?
It means nothing. Just lust. Nothing more.
He is a good-looking guy, and I am only human.
I can admire a man without giving in to the attraction.