"Now," I said, clearing my throat, "Let's review."
Luke let out a sarcastic, drawn-out sigh.
"Fine."
"I'll go first," I said, with a small smile. "Ready?"
The theatre was quiet, other than the buzzing stage lights, and he had an odd look in his eye as I arranged the notes on my lap, furrowing my brow. His steely-blue gaze never left mine, it was unwavering, never glancing away, not for a second.
"Luke?" I asked softly, and he seemed to snap out of it.
"Yeah. I—I'm ready."
The reassuring smile sprang back to his face, and I returned it with one of my own.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go."
I took in a deep breath, preparing myself to ask the questions I had in mind. It was a game we played every time we met—quizzing each other on our likes and dislikes, our fun facts and histories. We used this as an exercise to perfect our future small talk—or, rather, I did. Luke was simply coping so that we could get ice cream afterwards.
"My favorite color," I told him, and he sat up straight, eyes penetrating against my own. He was already getting extremely good at the game; his competitive nature made it even more fun; especially when he got one wrong.
"Easy," Luke said, waving a dismissive hand. "Purple. If we're getting into specifics, it's a light violet. Come on, Victoria, challenge me for once."
I arched a brow, biting my lip to keep from smiling.
"Okay. What's my dream major?"
He didn't even have to think twice.
"Astronomy."
"Good." I replied, my tone quickening, "Why?"
"You used to count stars with your parents and since then, you were always interested by it."
At this, I laughed outright.
"Oh my God, Luke, what did you do? Swallow a textbook?"
"Victoria, you've practically told me your life story," he said through a laugh, and I shook my head, swallowing hard.
Not everything, Luke, I thought silently. Not everything.
Nevertheless, I kept the ball rolling. "Okay, next question—favorite animal?"
"Koalas." He said, with a winning smile.
"Wrong!" I said then, pointing an accusatory finger, finally triumphant.
"It's lemurs."
"No!" Luke said, his brow furrowing as he smacked his hand over his knee. "Dammit, Hemmings, why did you tell me koalas last time?"
"I didn't," I said pointedly, holding my chin high as I smiled. "I win. Your turn."
Frowning, he obliged.
"Okay. Prepare to lose."
"You've done most of the losing yourself, Callaway," I replied smoothly, sitting back and watching him as he looked away, brow furrowed in thought.
"Okay," he said finally, with a smirk, "What's my dog's name?"
"Marvin."
"And what breed is he?"
"Border collie."
He made a face at me, and I smiled.
"You can't stump me, Luke—I know what I'm doing."
"Oh yeah?" He asked, his tone growing louder. "What's my middle name?"
I opened my mouth, fully prepared to answer, and that's when I realized that I had no idea.
Cursing under my breath, I held up a finger to keep him from saying anything, racking my brains but coming up empty-handed.
"Damn." I said finally, throwing my hands up. "You win. Three to two."
"That means I get to pick tonight's ice cream."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
He grinned, standing up and helping me up, taking half of the notes from my arms and neatly flattening them over his knee, as he clipped them together with a binder clip before handing them back to me. In the slight movement, however, I caught a glimpse of ink on the inside of his wrist, dark against his tan skin.
He brought his gaze back up to mine, and I looked away pointedly.
"How do you feel about buying an Oreo flavor tonight, Victoria?" Luke asked teasingly, and—trying to ignore what I just saw—I groaned.
"For God's sake, if you're going to make me eat it, the least you can do is address it properly."
"Sorry," he drawled, "I mean Cookies and Crème."
"Better."
And I exited the theatre, keeping up with his enthusiastic small talk and teasing, all the while thinking about the mark on his skin, the mysterious tattoo, what it could possibly be and how I hadn't noticed it before.