Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

77. Ready

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"How did you get in?" I ask, covering the sheet over my neck to conceal my body.

"You kind of yelled it out at me from down there," he answers, shrugging.

Oh, right.

"Are you naked?" he asks, and I now feel even more self-conscious.

"Well yeah, I thought I was alone," I admit. "Can you pass me a shirt from the drawer?"

He indicates to the chest of drawers wanting to know which one.

"The middle one," I point. "Oh and some underwear too please," I blush, looking away. "Top drawer."

He throws me a t-shirt, and then delicately opens up my underwear drawer, and thoughtfully chooses a pair of red lacy French knickers. I can't help but remember his reaction to them in the bathroom stall at Funky Buddha.

He passes them to me and I stare at him until he gets the idea, and turns away as I change underneath the covers.

"Luke, what are you doing here?" I sigh, not really wanting or prepared to hear his reply.

"You know why I'm here Ava," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You don't understand how much –"

"Look, I'm going to stop you there," I say, raising my hand. "Luke," I pause, looking him directly in those blue eyes of his. "You want me because you know you can't have me. Simple. Once you realise that, it will make things a whole lot easier on me," I say, completely emotionally exhausted.

"How can you say that?" he says, edging forward, "You fucking felt it when we kissed. I know you did. Tell me I'm lying," he says, the volume in his voice rising, and his hand gestures becoming more exaggerative.

I can't.

I look down into my lap, unable to make eye contact with him anymore. He can't do this to me. Not now. He can't be saying these things because every time I see him, it's like he clouds my vision. I could be so certain in feeling a certain way, and I see him and he changes everything for me.

"You can't because it's true," he comments, as I remain silent.

"I'm in love with Harry," I state, hoping that it will be enough.

"And one day you're going to realise that if he loved you back he wouldn't cut you off in the way that he has."

"That's not fair!" I cry out with emotion.

"No it's not fucking fair," he shouts back. "He fucks with your head by coming back into your life after you think you've moved on. Why do you let him do this to you?!"

"There's more to it than that," I mumble my response, not able to look up.

"Ava," he says as he grabs my hands, his voice more gentle and caring. "Ava, he can't treat you like this. He can't fuck you off, and then as soon as he senses you moving on and being happy, he can't walk back into your life. That's not showing you he cares."

And the words cut straight through me.

He's right.

It's true. Completely. Everything he's said is true. I feel sad and pathetic, and absolutely led on.