Three

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"Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything," he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me in. I smell his cologne, the bitter, metallic undertone accompanying it that is nowhere near the scent of alcohol.

"Where do you go every night?"

"I go out. I told you,"

"I know. But where?"

There's a short silence.

"It's this place,"

"What's it called?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"No reason," I say, feeling his calloused hands. He smiles gently at me.

"It's just a place somewhere. It's called Red Rum."

"Is that a bar?" I ask, referring to the name.

"You're a little curious today, aren't you, sweetheart?" Luke chuckles lightly.

"I'm just asking," I hug him tighter.

"Right. But curiosity killed the cat, baby. Don't forget that."

"I won't."

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