I wasn't a fan of heights. I preferred to keep my chaotic ways to the ground floor of everything. Faceplanting hurt a whole lot less when I was already close to the ground. The higher up I was, the less in control I felt. And that feeling of being out of control was not welcome in Delle Falls Universe.
I was fine with being several floors up. I had climbed up enough trees, up enough walls, and out enough windows to have mastered the shorter height problems. But anything over five floors... that felt excessive. Unnecessary. Uncomfortable. Unhelpful.
Standing in an elevator that led up to a movie star's house was nerve-wracking, but standing in a glass elevator that led up to the top floor of a sixty-story skyscraper where the top floor penthouse belonged to said movie star and you were somewhat dating the movie star's older brother, while also secretly investigating him for murder... now that was another level of stress.
Not to mention being trapped in the glass elevator that was moving at inhuman speeds while trying to act like you weren't completely terrified of watching the world drop below you... It all led to a nearly unhinged level of fake calm. I pretended to stare out the glass, facing away from Andrew, eyes scrunched shut, fingers gripping the railing in a death grip as I felt the floors drop away.
Why couldn't Andrew's brother live on the ground floor?!? I am going to look like a terrified goober if this stupid elevator doesn't stop soon.
"So how fast is your brother going to spot that pretty shiner on your face?" I asked, hoping to distract myself. My voice was surprisingly even as the glistening glass elevator shot up into the sixty-story building, floors whirring past in a blur. I forced my eyes open, keeping them moving from spot to spot, afraid to get a clear shot at how far up we were as the world flew by through the glass exterior.
"Oh, you are totally busted as soon as he sees me," Andrew said with a chuckle as the elevator screeched to a stop on the top floor, sending my stomach slamming into my brain before it flopped back down into place. I forced my hand to let go of the elevator bar, one painful finger at a time as I focused on the doors, forcing my heart rate to even.
You're Delle Falls, dragon detective. You got this. An elevator ride doesn't scare you. Just stay away from the windows.
The elevator doors flew open and I was suddenly staring into an overwhelmingly large penthouse that gazed over the Los Angeles skyline that shined in the afternoon sun. The deep wooden oak floorboards were warm in the sunshine, glistening in the warm sun rays that snaked in through the back wall made entirely of glass.
A living room filled the center of the massive space and was made up of leather couches, a glass and steel coffee table, a massive, intricately carved wooden mantel surrounding a roaring fireplace, and deep brown shelves covered in science fiction memorabilia, classic movies, and family photos.
Large black and white classic movie posters hung along the entryway walls and a thick deep red rug was settled below the fifty-foot television. The penthouse screamed upscale man cave, meets old Hollywood feel. It was cozy so long as I didn't stare out the windows too closely.
"Holy crap," I gasped, unable to react to a mansion without staring slack-jawed at everything. The living room is bigger than the first floor of my family home.
I was tempted to step back into the elevator that had opened up right into this ridiculously large home and leave Andrew in the penthouse. He belonged there far more than in my house... where everything was worn down and broken.
"I like this one. She has the proper reaction to beauty," a voice said to my right. A pair of sharp chocolate brown eyes met mine from across the room.
The voice belonged to a twenty-five-year-old with dark brown hair that fell down to a set of strong shoulders coated in elaborate tattoos, a tan complexion and looked like a Jason Mamoa level movie star. He stood in the kitchen, staring at his new arrivals with an unreadable expression.
Where Andrew was tall and toned, sporting a sculpted body that was pleasing to look at, Luke was a body of pure muscle that left me wary of getting too close. If I wasn't careful the dude could crack my spine in a bear hug.
Whoa... do all Walker boys look like they won the gene lottery?
Luke wore a white v-neck, that was a sharp contrast to his tan skin, a pair of ripped designer black jeans, and an intense look as he took in his brother from where he stood behind a long granite kitchen island to the right in an open kitchen floor plan. He glanced at me before giving his brother his full attention.
"Although if she reacts to your ugly face with anything other than a desire to barf, then I may have to retract my previous statement," he said, baritone voice seeping through the room like caramel, nearly betraying his dry tone.
Andrew grinned at his brother, rolling his eyes as he dropped his duffle bag in the entryway. "Hey, Luke. Missed you too, buddy."
Luke wiped his large muscular hands on a dishtowel, making it look tiny in comparison and raised a brow, face serious. "Never said I missed you."
Andrew shrugged, taking my duffle from my shoulder and dropping it next to his. I continued to stand unmoving in the entryway, processing the glamourous space and the banter between two attractive brothers.
"I read between the lines. I know you keep all your best declarations of love for the big screen," Andrew replied.
Luke snorted, walking towards us, his tone dry. "Funny. That joke NEVER gets old."
He lifted the dish towel towards Andrew's face and before Andrew could move away, Luke had him in a headlock, wiping the makeup off of Andrew's cheek showcasing the purple bruise in all its terrible glory. Andrew hissed, the touch of the dishtowel rough against his skin. "Geeze Luke! Can you not?"
Luke let him go and whistled, eyes wide. "Whoa. I expected all of this makeup to be covering some sort of hickey... Did you get into a fight with a train?"
There was a long pause as Luke continued to stare at Andrew, his sharp deep brown eyes unflinching, brow raised, expecting an answer while Andrew looked back at him with a determined expression, refusing to answer his question. Refusing to rat me out.
I took a step forward, officially stepping into the penthouse. "I'm the train," I said offering a small wave.
Luke turned to address me. He looked me up and down, appraising me, an aura of authoritative disbelief filling his posture. "You beat up Andrew?" He looked me up and down again. "Seriously?"
I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes at the tone. I could feel myself on the verge of a bad impression, but couldn't seem to stop my mouth. "Want a demonstration? I can give you a matching look."
Luke crossed his arms, eyes flashing. Andrew snorted. "You may have to go easy on him. He never finished his kickboxing lessons. Prefers decorative muscles instead."
I flicked my eyes along Luke's physique again, growing curious. Decorative? How could someone have so much power and have no idea how to use it.
Luke continued to look at me, assessing. "Don't let her size deceive you, Luke. She could kick your ass," Andrew added.
Luke raised a brow, quiet for a long moment. "I highly doubt that."
"Don't think a girl could take you down?" I asked, taking a step forward, chin tilted in defiance. I wasn't sure how I had come to challenge Andrew's brother in the span of five seconds, but I wasn't going to back down.
Luke snorted. "No. I've met plenty of girls that could pummel me. But..." he stared at my height and even smaller frame with a pointed look. "Your..." he gestured to all of me. "...well everything screams more cuddly than punchy."
Andrew covered his mouth to bite back a laugh. That laugh was the only thing that kept me from falling into Hulk Mode. I forced myself to hold out my hand to Luke, smile cold and stiff. "I'm Delle."
He took my hand and in a quick move, I forced Luke's wrist into an awkward angle, pushing it behind his back, and shoved him to his knees. He yelped in surprise as I pinned him to the ground and shoved his face into the floor. "Glorified Ass Kicker."
I let out an uneasy breath, suddenly registering that I had just shoved a bear-sized movie star's face into the ground. I glanced up at Andrew, expecting this to be the last straw. Clearly treating family members like opponents wasn't the right way to go about first impression.
Andrew doubled over in laughter, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Luke! What happened? You seemed so sure!"
My own face took on an unavoidable smile, utterly pleased by Andrew's reaction. I leaned forward speaking to Luke in a gentle coo. "Yeah, did all my cuddliness throw you off?"
"You proved your point. Let go." Luke growled, from where his face was pressed into his pretty wooden floor.
I complied, taking a step back as he sprang to his feet, a clean wooden floor plank mark pressed to the side of his face. I smiled, trying not to join Andrew as he continued to roar with laughter. "Sorry. I personally don't like to be underestimated. It's nice to officially meet you though, Luke."
Luke rubbed the side of his face as he shot me an approving smile. "Not bad. Nice to meet you too, Cuddly Delle."
Turning back to Andrew like this was a completely normal interaction, Luke tsked. "I really don't like that bruise. Let's drown it in some ice with a side of whiskey."
...
My fingers traced lines across the beautiful wooden mantle along the fireplace, following the intricate vines that bloomed into flowers. It was a classic piece, breathtaking and raw in its artistic form. The nature under my fingertips felt like it was one breath away from coming to life, flowers blooming and sending their strong aroma through the room. To say the mantel was hypnotizing was an understatement. I had all but forgotten I was in someone's house, focused on the mantel, body warming against the fire that nature framed. The entire thing looked like it had been carved by magic.
I could hear Luke in the kitchen, gathering up ice while Andrew slipped into the restroom to wash off his face. My hand moved on its own, fingers trailing across petals and leaves, aching to visit the source of this mantel's inspiration. Art had a way of stirring something deep inside. Making you ache if you let your soul be stirred by beauty.
Luke walked up next to me, handing me a glass of whiskey, eyes on the mantle. "Beautiful isn't it," he murmured, watching my fingers trail over an unbloomed tulip.
"It's beautiful," I breathed. "I've never seen anything like it." I dropped my hand and looked around the rest of the living room. "It doesn't really match the rest of your house."
Luke shook his head, touching the carving with a fond expression, his dark eyes filling with an ache I didn't understand. "Nope. But when you see something like this, you don't really care about whether it will work with everything else in your life."
"Where did you get it?"
"He stole it," Andrew said walking into the living room, ice pack on the side of his face. He looked at the mantel with a wary expression, seeming unaffected by the beautiful piece.
Luke crossed his arms, turning on Andrew, placing himself in front of the mantel in a protective stance. "I didn't steal anything. I took something that wasn't being appreciated before it could be destroyed or thrown out."
Andrew looked away, a muscle working in his jaw.
A dark expression crossed Luke's face. "How is saving this from a dumpster, stealing?"
Andrew sat down on the leather couch, looking tired, hand wringing through his jet black hair. "It wasn't yours to save."
"It's beautiful! Your work is beautiful Andrew! Of course I am going to save it!" Luke's voice boomed, angry and passionately protective.
I gasped, staring at Andrew with wide eyes. "You... made this?"
Andrew shrugged, looking completely uncomfortable, looking torn between wanting to crawl under the couch and die, or setting the couch on fire. "A long time ago."
I turned back to the fireplace, staring at the mantel with new eyes. I knew Andrew was a carpenter, but... "This is the most beautiful piece I have ever seen," I admitted, fingers brushing a leaf, catching on the detailed veins woven into the fragile leaf.
I spun, staring at Andrew with a look of fury. "What Class A Moron would throw it out?"
In the span of half a second I had taken up Luke's banner of protection. He had a right to protect this piece of art.
A hard smile crept across Andrew's face. "My parents would be those Class A Morons." The air was sucked out of the room. My anger vanished, replaced by confusion. "Threw it out when I told them I was going to be a carpenter instead of a lawyer. Not the best birthday I've ever had."
"Idiots," Luke muttered, fingers gripping his own glass of whisky tightly.
I slumped down on the couch next to Andrew, watching his attempt to hide the pain behind a wall of anger. He plucked up his own glass of whiskey with shaky fingers, taking a tentative sip, ocean eyes sparking into a storm of pain and rage. "Your parents suck."
Andrew laughed, a hollow, empty laugh that sucked all light out of the room. It was the complete opposite of his other laugh. The one that filled rooms with light. It was bone-chilling and haunting in equal measure. "Yeah... they do."
I cupped his face in my hands, thumbs trailing down his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. "I'm sorry Andrew. I'm sorry that something you love doing has been... tainted." My voice broke as I watched the pain he had been trying to hide, race to the surface. Understanding dawned in his expression. A truth we both shared.
The reason why he didn't want to talk about his chosen profession. It came with baggage, with pain he didn't want to address. That was something I could understand.
"It hurts when what you love to do brings you pain instead," I murmured.
Andrew closed his eyes against my words, brow furrowing against my fingertips.
I grew angry, hurt that Andrew had made something so utterly glorious and yet looked at it with trepidation, with memories that clouded its beauty. The hurt was obvious. The ghosts of past pains had woven into the activity, making it impossible for him to enjoy something that had once brought him joy.
What is the point of loving something when it hurt so much?
He placed his forehead to mine in quiet agreement. "I'm sorry too," he murmured quietly, his breath warm on my face, making me feel truly comforted for the first time by someone outside of my own family. Making me feel safe. Even if it was only for a moment. Even if it could only be an illusion. We were two pieces of broken pottery, that despite everything, still loved all the hard, jagged edges of our broken dreams, even if they hurt to touch.
"I agree with Cuddly," Luke said shattering our moment. I jumped back, startled. I had forgotten Luke was in the room. He sat down in his own leather chair, waving his cup towards Andrew, unphased by my near heart attack. "You are talented, Andrew. You just need to stop being so afraid to share your talent."
Andrew scoffed. "I'm not—"
"You are!" Luke said with a pointed look. "I saw that show you were on. When Cuddly here—"
"Delle," I corrected.
"When Cuddly here," Luke continued, "asked about your job. You looked like you wanted to swallow a lemon. How are you supposed to get closer to people if you allow your fear to ruin things? Not everyone is going to be like mom and dad."
Andrew remained quiet, face unreadable as he glanced back at the mantle.
Luke poured more whiskey into our cups, eyeing each of us with a look of disapproval. "So... now that we got your therapy session out of the way, let's move on. You ditched the cameras and thought coming to a high-profile house was a good idea after getting pummeled?"
Luke sighed, looking tired as he ran his hand down his face. "I really don't want to get involved in your little romantic fight club. Paparazzi can be brutal, and I've done a pretty good job going untouched so far."
Andrew placed the ice pack back against the side of his face, slumping further down onto the couch. "We won't stay forever. Delle here wanted to meet you."
I drank the full shot, slamming it down on the coffee table with a grin, eyeing Luke. "I figured if anyone had dirt on the Single Stud, it would be you."
Andrew snorted, eyes closed as he leaned his head back against the couch. "Luke won't betray me like that."
Luke chuckled darkly. "We already told you about our fantastic parents, what else do you want to know?"
"Hey!" Andrew protested.
"What have you got?" I asked, trying to keep my interest to a non-interrogator level.
Luke swirled the whisky in his glass with a thoughtful expression. "Hmm... where to start... where to start..."
"You can't be serious," Andrew said, with a frustrated expression. "You never tell anyone anything!"
Luke put his glass down. "She beat me in a duel fair and square."
I nodded. "He's right. Those are the rules of secret trading."
Andrew glanced between us looking utterly betrayed. "Bringing you here was a terrible idea."
I grinned at Andrew, enjoying the feeling of the whiskey and the easy way I had fallen into banter with his brother. Enjoying the cute little wrinkle of frustration that puckered up between Andrew's brow. The little 'v' shape that I suddenly wanted to smooth away. "Nah. It's one of your most brilliant ideas."
Luke smiled, downing his own drink. "He was due for a good idea eventually."
We both fell into laughter as Andrew glared at us. "You both suck. Try not to die from laughter while I use the bathroom." He dropped the ice pack on the coffee table and shot us each another glare before walking out of the room.
"Psh. A girl smacks a guy once and he gets all offended when she recites the rules of dueling and starts asking dark family questions," Luke said, waving his glass as he watched his brother leave. "It's common knowledge."
"To be fair, I did hit him pretty hard."
Luke shot me an easy, million-dollar movie star smile. The one that must have made millions of women swoon. "Thank you for leaving my face pretty," he said as he stood up to retrieve a box of peanut butter crackers. "I kind of need it to make a living."
I lifted my empty glass in a cheers motion. "No problem. Happy to keep you employed."
He poured the box of crackers into a large bowl and set it down on the coffee table as he sat back down across from me, motioning for me to throw a question his way.
I put my glass down, eager for answers, starting with the largest question I needed to be answered. Andrew had been avoiding the question, and if he wouldn't share, I was determined to get the answers from Luke. Hopefully, he was relaxed enough to spill the beans. Maybe he wouldn't view it as a touchy subject. "So..." I started slowly.
"Why do you think your brother signed up for a reality tv show? He doesn't seem like the type."
Luke scoffed, pouring me another drink before refilling his. "That's because he isn't the type. Heck, even I wouldn't do that and I am the entertainment celebrity in the family."
I tilted my head to the side, analyzing his words, weighing them carefully. "So why?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. I could sense that I was on the verge of falling into something deep. A clue that would help me piece everything together.
Luke glanced off down the hall that Andrew had disappeared through, before diving into family secrets that Andrew had been reluctant to share. "Tell me, Delle, how much do you know about The Walker Family?"
----
Thank you for reading chapter twenty-eight! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes! Add this story to your reading list to know when the next chapter drops!
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What do you think of Luke Walker?
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CHAPTER QUESTION - If a sibling or friend were to bring someone home to meet you, what would be the best way to win you over?