A/N: Hi everyone! Thanks for patiently waiting for another update about Luke and Max. To those who hadn't noticed yet, this is a slow-burn story so they wouldn't be eloping to Las Vegas for a quickie wedding quite yet. LOL!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one.
Let me know!
***
As an olive branch, I came to work the next day with a cup of coffee for Luke and a bag of freshly baked pastries for Peggy who left it at her desk for everyone to sample.
I didn’t leave a note for him—just scribbled on the cup sleeve: Even burritos need coffee.
I didn’t get a chance to check if he got it because first thing that morning, Bryce called a departmental meeting and announced the lineup of the new brand loyalty committee.
Moi, along with two other junior staffers, was named part of the group which, to my utter secret thrill, excluded Theodora. Heading the committee was Phil—on his seventeenth year with the company and a really nice guy—someone I had a lot of respect for and actually liked as a person.
I didn’t miss Theodora’s evil eye when we filed out of the meeting room but I was too happy to care and the giant smile on my face probably told her that all too clearly.
I was on my way back from hunting down Jillian who spent about five minutes jumping up and down with me in the ladies’ room as we tried to squeal quietly (because that really works, right?), when Theodora oh so conveniently stepped into my path after moving away from the water cooler in a discreet alcove down the hall.
She smiled, one of her fake ones, of course, and in a low, conspiratorial tone, said, “I don’t know how you put out, Max, but he must like it enough to kick you up a step in the ladder.”
I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “I don’t know how you do it, Theodora, but you mustn’t do it very well if the best you can come up with is a lame accusation that I slept my way through to this opportunity.”
She opened her mouth to respond but I took a step toward her, making her squirm just a little bit as I ate up that comfortable distance between us enough to let her know that I wasn’t going to cower away.
“Rain on my parade all you like—I’ll just dance in it.”
“While I hold up her umbrella.”
Theodora and I were too busy staring each other down that we didn’t notice the tall figure that had loomed over us. Luke stood there with his arms crossed, holding the cup of coffee I gave him. I could just spy from where I stood the not-so-discreet note I scribbled on it.
Theodora gasped and I pressed my lips together but mostly to keep myself from grinning wide as Luke did his superb best of looking every inch like the powerful and intimidating executive that he was in real life.
“I can hold my own umbrella just fine, sir,” I said very formally, secretly biting the inside of my cheek, while Luke just arched a brow at me. “Thank you for the offer.”
“Glad to be of assistance, Ms. Moss,” Luke said, playing along. “Anything else that might require my attention? Perhaps, a little weather issue?”
Color was fast leeching out of Theodora’s face that she would soon resemble the cream color of the wall so I thought I’d take pity.
“Nothing that I can think of,” I said lightly. “Ms. Graves and I were just having a little water cooler talk about the weather. Nothing unusual in a typical office day.”
Luke held my a gaze for a moment, as if he wanted me to admit out loud what Theodora was sniping about, but I just brightened my smile for him. He gave a faint nod.
“Well, in that case, Ms. Graves, you don’t mind if I walk with Ms. Moss to the boardroom, do you? I’m meeting with the newest brand loyalty committee which I just heard she is a part of,” Luke said before turning to me with a gallant smile. “I met with Bryce and Phil an hour ago and they prepped me on the members of their newest team. Congratulations.”
God, this half-farce was too funny and fantastic, especially as Theodora tried so desperately to make the ground open up and swallow her whole somehow, but we probably should reel it in a bit.
“Thank you, Mr. Hedenby,” I said graciously, stepping back into the main hall to prompt Luke to leave poor Theodora be. “I’ll be happy to accompany you to the boardroom. I’m sure Ms. Graves is eager to get back to her duties.”
And to cap that slightly outrageous performance, Luke extended an arm out dramatically. “Lead the way, Ms. Moss. Ms. Graves, have a good rest of your day.”
We walked down the hall together casually, Luke finishing his coffee and pausing at a garbage bin to toss the cup after removing the sleeve off of it and slipping it inside his jacket pocket.
I waited until we were a good distance away before I yanked Luke by the elbow and pulled him into a smaller hall which was luckily empty.
“Tell me you had nothing to do with my getting a spot on the committee,” I said, giving him my most serious expression. For all my tart attitude with Theodora, it did nag at the back of my head that my association with Luke might have influenced the odds to my favor.
“I had nothing to do with your getting a spot on the committee,” Luke said readily, his face earnest, that after a second, I released the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and the grip I had on the sleeve of his jacket.
“Good,” I said, sighing and running my hand through my hair. “While there’s nothing I can do about people who will think and say nasty things about me, I’d like to be clear about it in my own head.”
“Is that what Theodora told you?” Luke asked, his eyes narrowed.
I had enough unwanted attention as it was, being friends with Luke, although no one other than Theodora had been bold enough to say anything to my face. If I threw Theodora under the bus and backed it up over her, I would only worsen the speculation.
“Whether it is or not, she wouldn’t be the first and last to suspect that I’m enjoying the perks of sleeping with the CEO,” I said with a shrug. “It will require some imagination but given your reputation, it’s not too out there.”
Luke’s jaw clenched. “What’s not too out there?”
I raised a brow. “You sleeping with someone like me.”
“I don’t like the underlying meaning of that phrase someone like me because it seems to suggest that the kind of person you are should serve as some obstacle to my renowned relentless sexual appetite.”
My face got so hot so fast that I wondered for an insane second if steam was coming through my pores. I laughed, albeit it came out a little shaky, as an attempt to lighten up the taut sexual tension that felt thick in the air all of a sudden. “Jesus, Luke, is the candid description that necessary?”
He didn’t smile or laugh. “It’s about as unnecessary as the self-doubt you like to drape over your head when you don’t want to acknowledge the truth that’s right in front of you.”
And sure enough, I started looking at everywhere but him. “We probably should get to that meeting.”
“In a minute,” he said before he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me down the hall. He stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. It was labeled Utilities. He slipped out a badge from his pocket and held it against the automatic reader.
My eyes widened as the light blinked green on the small lock panel and Luke pulled the door open.
He could not be seriously considering trapping me into a broom closet with him! Only high school sweet hearts and employees playing hooky did this kind of utterly juvenile thing.
“Are you out of your mind?” I demanded as he pulled me into the room only big enough to fit the two of us standing, surrounded by shelves and hanging racks that contained cleaning supplies and toiletries for this floor. The overhead light was a weak white wash that lit up the space just enough to see most things but not too glaring it could rouse the dead—or snap Luke out this dream state he seemed to be caught in.
“Am I ever,” was all he said before he pulled me into his arms and crashed his mouth against mine in a wild, fiery kiss that obliterated every single doubt in my head. If this kiss was to prove anything, it was that Luke wanted me down to every fiber of my being. His mouth hungered as if he wanted to consume me like I was the oxygen in his lungs and the fire in his veins. His arms locked me against him, his hands everywhere—sifting through my hair, trailing down to the side of my face, coasting up and down my back, and cupping my behind to press me closer to him until there was no way to misinterpret what was filling the space between us.
“Never think that I could never want you,” he rasped against my ear when he broke away so we could catch our breaths. He tasted of sweet milk and all kinds of hurt. “I’ve got you in my blood, Max, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to get you out.”
“Yet you try so hard,” I said hollowly, knowing that soon, when the fire inside me had abated, a cold empty ache would fill the space. “And I don’t know who ends up hurting more in the end.”
Blinking back tears, I straightened away from him and fixed my dress, patting down what I could of my hair.
“I’d rather it be me than you, Max,” Luke said, pained regret flashing across those winter blue eyes, his skin a shade paler.
I smiled—a faint, trembling and probably terribly sad one. “I doubt that we’d be able to tell the difference.”
Holding on to the pieces of me until I was at a safe enough distance to put them back together, I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Fortunately, the hall was still empty and I made the short distance from there to the ladies’ room without incident. I stayed there for a few minutes, wiping away every trace of Luke’s kiss and the evidence of my own weakness.
I didn’t cry because I didn’t want to lose that battle too.
By the time I made it to the boardroom, half the team was already assembled, with Luke sitting at the head of the long conference table. He had no trouble looking at me but I tore my gaze away as fast as I could before I betrayed myself further in front of a dozen people and sat between Sal and Andy who both scored a spot on the committee as well.
In the hour that we sat there, I could feel Luke’s gaze barely leaving me but I fought hard to ignore it, trying to focus on the meeting and forget that the man leading it was a man in whose arms I’d crumbled and melted and formed anew a mere half an hour ago.
When the meeting was dismissed an hour later, after a long discussion about direction and initiatives and ideas, there was still only one thing I knew—Luke was in my blood too and there was not damn thing I could do to get him out.
***
Maybe Luke was right when he said that taking a little bit of your poison every day gradually made you strong enough to withstand its damage. Whether he was or not was something I was going to discover in the coming weeks.
Despite my wandering attention at yesterday’s sit-down with the CEO, I heard and participated in enough conversations in the office for the rest of the day to figure out that Luke was going to be very involved in the brainstorming process for the preliminary proposals. It was his baby—his first big project as the newly placed CEO—and he wanted to work closely with our team to develop it. He had a formal presentation scheduled with the stakeholders in a few weeks and our timeline was going to be tight.
I didn’t want to avoid Luke because if I was honest with myself, I missed him when he wasn’t around. I just had to remember to keep a good distance, to take a step back even as he matched it with a step forward. At some point, I’d find my back to the wall and there would be nowhere to go but I was afraid to look behind me right now.
On Friday morning, we assembled again at the boardroom that was going to be our main hang out in the next few weeks. We started with some reports from R&D about our most recent consumer behavior while waiting for Luke. Bryce returned from a phone call about half an hour into the meeting with the announcement that Luke couldn’t make it.
I thought it was a little strange but Luke was a very busy and important man and he probably got called away to something else.
It continued to bother me for the rest of the morning because I hadn’t gotten a single text message from him. He would always manage, at the very least, a ‘Good Morning’ but there was nothing. He probably didn’t feel like it after that episode in the utilities room but even on our worst fights, Luke always managed a morning greeting, whether I responded or not. While on a coffee break, I texted him ‘Good Morning’ but no response either.
Just before lunch, I texted him again.
[Me: Hey. You missed the meeting. Busy?]
I kept glancing at my phone all throughout lunch, distractedly listening to Jillian and Ryan, but there was nothing at all from Luke. So as I was walking back to my desk, I called his cellphone but it just immediately went to voicemail. I called his house (because he gave every single one of his contact information, remember?) and his answering machine picked up after a few rings.
“Hey, call me when you have a minute,” was all I said in the recording before hanging up. I circled back to the main hall and rode up the elevator to Luke’s office. I wasn’t sure why the silent treatment was bothering me. I asked for distance, after all, but it was very uncharacteristic of Luke to go completely incommunicado on me.
Peggy had just finished a call when I walked in and she greeted me with a broad smile.
“Hi, Max!” she said, her cheerful mood only slightly dampened when I came to a stop in front of her desk. Her brows furrowed in concern. “Everything alright?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. Just getting busier. I was just wondering if Luke was in.”
Peggy sighed and shook her head. “He’s sick. He rarely gets sick but he does come down with the flu or a bad cold at least once a year.”
“I saw him yesterday and he looked fine.”
“He was tired and a little off yesterday morning but it got bad quickly in the afternoon and he went home early,” the woman said. “I’ve dropped off food and medicine last night but he just mostly needs rest. He doesn’t like to be fussed over so we usually just leave him alone until he shows back up in the office.”
Worry clamped around my heart like a tight fist as I imagined Luke, normally vibrant and quite virile, curled up in bed in a dark room somewhere, feeling like utter hell. “Is Terrence with him?”
“Terrence’s got school but he’ll check in on him when he gets home. He lives a few floors down Luke’s penthouse but even he would give him wide berth,” Peggy explained. “Luke gets cranky as hell when he’s sick.”
I pursed my lips as I stood there, mulling over my options, knowing that Peggy was studying me with interest.
“You’ll let me know if he gets worse or if he needs anything?” I asked her, knowing that to do anything else would be to give myself away too much. “I can take him to the doctor or something if you guys are busy.”
Peggy smiled and nodded. “I’ll be sure to let you know, Max. You might be the only one he’ll listen to at a time like this.”
The rest of the afternoon was a write-off.
I was in and out of enough meetings to keep me busy but my attention always wandered back to Luke who was yet to respond to me at all. He might be in a really bad shape if he couldn’t even pick up his phone.
Before my day was over, I texted Terrence to ask if Luke needed anything. He replied that he had a research paper to do but he would be dropping in on him to make sure Luke had eaten and taken his medication.
[Me: I can check in on him if you want. My evening’s free.]
[Terrence: You sure you wanna sign up for that? He’s not very civilized when sick.]
[Me: I can handle him.]
[Terrence: First time a woman said that about Luke and I actually believed her.]
He texted me the address to a swanky, residential high-rise not too far from Pacific Dome. I stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things before hailing a cab to Avendale Court. It was an expansive collection of townhouses and one towering building amidst a maze of immaculate walkways and gardens, dotted by lush palm trees, flower beds and fountains. It was pretty much a shangri la to my shoebox of an apartment—yet another reminder that Luke and I come from very different places in this world.
There was a concierge/reception desk in the main hall and a man and a woman in very sharp white and black uniforms stood behind it. I felt for a moment that I was on board some kind of a luxury cruise.
“I’m here to see Luke Hedenby at P-1000,” I said as confidently as I could. “I believe Mr. Terrence Cooper has already called in my arrival.”
“What’s your name, miss?” the man asked as he tapped away at his screen.
“Maxine Moss.” I handed him my driver’s license.
A tiny little frown marred his forehead as he compared my ID to his screen. “Mr. Hedenby has had you on the list for a while now, Ms. Moss, so I don’t see any issues. Do you have the access code to the private elevators and the suite?”
I took back my driver’s license and nodded. “Terrence gave it to me.”
The man stood up and gestured at the brown grocery bag I had clipped with one arm. “Do you require any assistance carrying anything up?”
I smiled at him. “I’m good, I think. Thank you. Maybe just point me to the elevators, that’s all.”
The smooth and very quite ride up in the wood and velvet-paneled box felt like entering an alternate universe where everything seemed to sparkle and shine. In another time, I might consider all this pretentious but I reminded myself that this was normal to Luke who’d been born at the lap of luxury. If he didn’t judge me for my more humble origins, I shouldn’t judge him either for his more elevated ones. Neither of them were our fault.
I was nervous walking down the private foyer to his penthouse door.
I’ve never been here and maybe it was a bit too bold for me to show up here and play doctor.
Hey, you’re just taking a page out of his book and bulldozing your way into his life. You’ve earned the right for payback at the very least.
I knocked on the door and there was no answer. I tried a couple times more before finally punching in the code Terrence freely gave me and that I’d cautiously accepted. Luke may have invaded my life but I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about me doing the same to his. Except that he seemed to have expected it already if he’d put me on his access list.
The penthouse was massive—with very high ceilings and a loft section looking out to the airy main space where one wall was all glass. It was high enough to look past the cluster of other buildings that led up to the beach and enjoy the view of the ocean which now shimmered golden from the sun sweeping down the horizon.
The interior design and the furniture that accompanied it were sleek and minimal—color-blocked in black, gray and white. The only warmth came from the dark wooden accents on the paneled walls and finishes.
“Luke?” I called out, my voice echoing slightly in the vast space.
I slipped out of my boots and padded to the kitchen in my socks, setting the groceries down on the counter and storing some items that needed chilling in the tall, stainless steel fridge. There was a fresh supply of milk and eggs and orange juice there, along with a stack of fruit and vegetable trays. Out on the kitchen island were a few boxes of crackers and soup cans.
I smiled when I saw the rice cooker sitting on one corner of the counter with the little post-it note I’d written for Luke on how to cook rice properly stuck on the backsplash just above it.
I discarded my coat and draped it over the back of one of breakfast bar stools and set my tote down on the floor.
I didn’t know how many bedrooms there were so I had to pop my head into the first couple of them down the hall until I reached the last door which was closed.
It wasn’t locked so I slowly pushed it open.
It was dark in there, the heavy drapes drawn in. The only illumination came from the glow of a TV screen from a corner, the sounds of what looked like a vintage cartoon show from the nineties completely muted.
Near the windows, I could spy the enormous wooden sleigh bed, the dark covers heaped over a still form.
“Luke?” I said softly as I tiptoed toward him, trying not to trip or knock over anything in the dark. I passed a free-standing lamp on my way there and quietly fiddled around to find the switch until it clicked on, bathing the room with a low golden light.
Luke was buried under the covers, only the top half of his cheek and the unruly mop of his hair showing. His eyes were closed, those long lashes sooty against his pale cheek patched slightly red from the fever.
My heart constricted and I fell on my knees next to the bed, reaching my hand out to brush the hair away from his forehead and check on his temperature. Heat seeped through skin all the way down to the side of his neck and he shifted slightly in discomfort, the covers bunching down under his chin. His lips were dry and cracked, his jaw covered with a rough stubble.
The movement stirred a hard, stilted cough from him and he curled over even more, his shoulders shaking with the effort.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m here.” I rubbed his chest in firm, even strokes, glancing around his nightstand which had half a glass of water, some throat lozenges and an assortment of cough and flu medicine. “Have a sip of water, okay?”
His eyes fluttered open, not seeing anything at first before slowly locking in on me.
“Max?” His voice was faint and scratchy and another bout of coughing hit him.
I stacked some pillows behind him as he rolled on to his back. I perched beside him on the bed and reached for the glass of water. “Here, finish this and I’ll get you some more. You need lots of fluid to get better.”
He wrapped his hand over mine around the glass and together we held it steady over his lips as he slowly swallowed what trickled down. When the water was gone, we lowered both our hands together, sitting the glass on his chest because he hadn’t let go of me yet.
“Why are you here?” he asked, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “You’ll get sick.”
I smiled. “Well, since you already kissed me yesterday, it’s a bit late now to worry about your germs. But it’s okay. I don’t mind your germs. I just want you to get better.”
He wasn’t amused by that but he did open his eyes and stared at me. “I told Peggy and Terrence not to tell you. Didn’t want you to worry.”
I plucked the empty glass away with my free hand and set it down on the nightstand. “Has it occurred to you that you’re way past that point of forcing your will on those two? They’ll decide what they think is best for you and do it.”
He squeezed my hand. “And you’ve joined the club.”
“And now you’re going to live with that fact,” I said with a small laugh. “Now, when was the last time you ate? I brought fresh ingredients and I’ll make you some homemade soup and some honey-lemon tea. You have to eat, even just a little, no matter how much you may hate it, and drink lots of water. And then I’ll fill up the tub so you can soak in for a little bit—it’ll help with the aches and the coughing and help you relax so you can sleep better. And then we’ll get you into some clean clothes and I’ll change the sheets so you’re not sleeping in your sweat and germs and all that bad stuff.”
Luke’s mouth curved up on one corner in a faint smile. “You sound like a dreadful nurse who’s just not going to… leave me alone.”
“Nope,” I said. “You’re stuck with me, buddy.”
Considering all of Peggy’s and Terrence’s warnings, the fact that Luke didn’t put up a legitimate fight surprised me.
He finally released my hand and let me tuck him back in before I went to the kitchen to refill his glass and get some water started for the soup.
I puttered around for half an hour, making more of a broth with practically minced carrots, chicken and noodles in it. I filled a bowl with it and placed it on a plate next to a handful of soda crackers which I carried to his bedroom with a tray I’d found in one of his cupboards.
We piled his pillows high behind him and I scooted into the bed, grateful I wore slacks as I sat cross-legged there, spooning him some soup patiently and feeding him crackers.
When that was done, I located his bathroom and filled his jetted tub with warm water.
He pointed me to his closet—which was about the size of Cleo’s—and I quickly rummaged through it for a clean white shirt and pajamas. I didn’t dare linger in his underwear drawer. Just grabbed a rolled up pair of boxers and dropped it along with his other clothes on the edge of the bed.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to climb out of the tub once I’m in it,” he said as he sluggishly dragged himself out of the bed. His gray shirt was sweaty, and a little smelly, to be honest.
“I’ll pull you out of it if I have to,” I said, scooping up his clean clothes and leading him by the hand to the bathroom. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”
I left him in the middle of the bathroom to pour some bubble bath into the tub. He didn’t really have an awesome collection of bubble baths like I did but he had one that looked like it had never been used before.
I piled a fresh bath towel and robe with this clothes beside the tub and tested the water temperature before turning the faucet off. “It’s perfect now. Let’s go.”
I turned around and nearly doubled over. Luke was standing in the middle of the bathroom, shirtless, pajama-less. He was in dark gray boxers which did nothing to soften the impact of his beautifully ripped body on me.
Even sick, he was lean and powerful, his arms and legs taut with muscle and dusted lightly with some dark hair. His broad shoulders framed a firm chest, his stomach rippling with muscle. His narrow hips only showcased a shapely butt, his thighs strong and athletic. Then there were those bare feet—long, slender and very manly.
He looked like a goddamned underwear model and I was just standing there, probably salivating, in my baggy trousers and rumpled button-down shirt.
He saw my face and he flashed me a rakish smile. He took a step toward me and swayed a little so I bolted to his side, wrapping an arm around his naked waist. The feverish heat from his bare skin nearly singed me but I didn’t let go.
His arm rested on my shoulders and it was only with him that close that I noticed the long, jagged scar just along his left side, running right below his nipple down a backward slant and ending just above his hip.
I was stunned to realize that for all his seeming physical perfection, Luke was not perfect, after all, and the marks he bore indicated no small suffering.
“Where did this come from?” I asked, gently tracing my fingers down the slight ridge of skin. Luke flinched, as if it still hurt, but it was an old scar.
He moved away slightly to break the contact, his expression tightening with pain.
Maybe the injury wasn’t merely physical at all.
“Car accident, many years ago,” he said. “When I was young and stupid and reckless.”
“It must’ve hurt terribly,” I said, watching his face as emotions played at it in a tragic dance.
He closed his eyes and angled his face away. “It did but I didn’t get the worst of it.”
And for some reason, that statement sounded very final—as if the discussion was closed. He didn’t want to talk about it and I didn’t want to press him.
This was the first time since I met Luke that I grasped at the edges of darkness he had cooped up inside. There was guilt—a lot of it—and regret.
“Let’s get you into the water before it gets cold,” I said, dropping the subject and slowly steering him toward the tub.
Luke leaned his head down slightly until his chin pressed on my temple. “Thanks for being here, Max.”
I tilted my head up as soon as we reached the tub and saw him smiling softly.
Unable to resist or understand why I did so, I raised on my tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth, surprising him as much as myself.
“Now, get out of those boxers and get into the tub.”
He gave me a wobbly grin. “Are you going to stay and watch?”
I rolled my eyes and turned around even though my blazing cheeks probably already gave me away. “Now’s not the time to seduce me, Luke. You can barely stand up.”
“You don’t have to do seduction standing up,” he said, laughter, even if a little weak, clear in his voice. “In fact, I’m better at it horizontal.”
“Luke, stop talking if you don’t want me to shove you into the tub!” I clapped my hands over my ears until I heard the soft splash of the water and a raspy laugh from him followed by a loose cough. I didn’t turn around though because even though the water was sudsy, it was not sudsy enough to conceal what I would not recover from seeing.
“I’m going to go now and change your sheets, okay?” I said, trying to sound all business-like even though my imagination was vividly imagining the length of Luke’s body sprawled in the tub. “Where’s the linen closet?”
“There’s one just right outside the bathroom,” he answered, his voice lighter and more relaxed now, probably from the nearly instantaneous therapeutic effect of the warm bath.
I walked straight on and closed the bathroom door behind me before I could do anything reckless like turn around and enjoy the show of Luke soaking in a warm bubble bath. I turned on all the lights in the bedroom to see the space I was working with.
It was a big room with the same high ceilings and minimalist furnishings but it was cluttered. The bed looked rumpled as hell and I quickly stripped it down, folding the dirty sheets into a neat pile and setting them down next to the bathroom door since the hamper was inside. I picked out a sheet set from the discreet built-in linen closet and did my best in making the bed. With that done, I worked in a clockwise direction to pick up a few things here and there, finding a temporary spot for the items until Luke could tell me where they were supposed to go. Just across from the foot of the bed was a desk, not really for office work although it did have a docking station for his laptop but mostly just as a catch-all for a lot of random things. His cellphone and laptop were strewn on top of it, both dead. He had a few receipts on there, a few papers that looked work-related, and a couple of pens. The coffee cup sleeve I scribbled on was on top of a black leather notebook. It was an interesting collage of things that told little details about Luke but what arrested me was the large and square, black wooden-framed mirror right above the desk. Lined up and tucked behind the bottom frame were about half a dozen pictures. There was one of a young Luke, probably six or seven, standing between a tall, distinguished-looking man and a beautiful woman with a bright red hat. Probably his parents. There was another picture, slightly faded and curled at the edges, featuring a close-up of just the woman from the other photo, her dark hair blowing in the wind and her lovely faced etched with a broad smile. Probably the mother Luke had lost at a young age. There was a picture of him and a younger Peggy. There was a group picture of him with a few guys sitting around a couch, each sporting a different football jersey, Ryan being one of them, his hair still floppy and long on the side. Probably when they were in college. Another picture was of him and Terrence wearing party hats, their arms around each other, grinning a bit drunkenly, each holding a beer.
The last picture stopped my heart for a few seconds.
It was a small, wallet-sized photo, printed not in the best quality but clear enough to hit me with a sledgehammer of emotions.
It was that picture of me he took that Sunday morning after we fell asleep together at my apartment and before he left for Tokyo.
The smile on my face was soft and pretty, my cheeks a bit flushed, my hair a bit wild.
I picked it up and traced the smooth surface of the photo paper before flipping it over.
On the back was Luke’s usual scrawl with the date and a note that said: My Maxine.
He’d taken it with the phone that Lola had smashed and I thought the picture had been lost with it. Clearly not.
What wasn’t so clear was what it was doing there, next to the pictures of people Luke greatly cared about.
I had an answer but until that answer was his too, then there was no use in saying it out loud.
I whipped around when I heard him call my name from the bathroom. I tucked the picture back behind the frame and hurried over to him. He was already out of the tub, dressed in his clean clothes, his face beet red, probably from the combination of the steamy water and his fever. His eyes were hooded and red-rimmed and despite his impressive build, Luke seemed like he was about to fall flat on his face any second. I grabbed a smaller towel before taking his hand and leading him back to the bedroom.
“Sit down and let me dry your hair so your pillow doesn’t get soaked,” I told him gently. Once he was down on the bed, he lowered his head and I stepped in the space between his knees. Grasping the towel on both ends, I slowly rubbed his hair with it, squeezing some of the dampness out and dabbing behind his ears and his neck.
His head leaned forward until his forehead was pressed against my stomach, his arms loosely wrapped around my hips.
“Luke, you’ll be okay,” I whispered, dropping my head down to kiss the top of his.
“I know,” he murmured, not moving away even though I’d already stopped drying his hair.
I dropped the towel on the bed and put my own arms around him, one across his shoulders and one around his head.
I don’t know how long we hugged like that. Probably a long time but it felt too perfect to let go.
Slowly, he lifted his head. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
There were many ways to answer this question and most of them would satisfy reality.
But in that moment, in that bedroom, in his arms, reality didn’t exist any more than my defenses did.
I had an excuse to let my guard down—even just for a little bit, even just for a night—and I took it.
“I will,” I told him, smiling, before I pressed a kiss between his brows. “Now, lie down while I make you some tea.”
I tucked him in and brought him a steaming mug of honey-lemon tea. I made myself a cheese sandwich for dinner and stretched out on the leather couch in his bedroom, eating it while he finished his drink. It was still early but I could see the fatigue on Luke’s face so I told him that he should brush his teeth so he could go to bed.
He followed me to the bathroom and surprised me when he pulled out a fresh package of toothbrush from one of the drawers and handed it to me. I smiled at the parallelism because he had his own toothbrush next to mine at my apartment and now I had one next to his at his condo.
“I’m just going to wash up,” I told him when we finished. “If you don’t mind, I’ll use whatever soap you’ve got. I don’t really have any of my stuff with me—“
“It’s fine, Max,” he interrupted with a smile before stepping out. I was just putting my hair up in a high bun when a knock came on the door. Luke stood outside, holding a clean light gray shirt.
“It’s probably going to be too big but it might be more comfortable to wear to bed,” he said.
I tentatively accepted it. “Um, I was thinking I was just going to sleep on the couch and—“
“You’re sleeping on the bed, Max,” Luke said, forcefully, too, for someone who was barely able to stand and coughed for thirty seconds after that declaration. “There will be no arguments about that.”
He punctuated the statement by closing the door.
Okay, then.
I didn’t want to argue with a sick and stubborn man so I let it be and finished cleaning up. I washed my face and thankfully, I carried a little cosmetics kit with me that happened to have a small tube of moisturizer. It wasn’t perfect but I felt clean enough to slip out of my clothes and slip on Luke’s super soft T-shirt.
It was definitely too big for me, grazing just slightly above my thighs but long enough to cover my panties. The fabric was soft but not too thin to cling to my breasts too much once I took off my bra.
Awkwardly, I stepped out, feeling a bit exposed with nothing to cover my legs, but Luke was already in bed, his eyes closed.
“Poor baby,” I said, touching his forehead lightly. He still burned with a little bit of fever but not as bad it was when I first got there.
I walked over to the TV to turn it off and circled to the other side of the bed where I slid under the covers.
I reached out to slowly comb my fingers through his hair to see if it was dry enough. He seemed to like it though because he turned toward me, his pajama-clad leg brushing with my bare one.
I sat back against the pillows and leaned on my side to face him so I could keep combing my fingers through his hair until his breathing calmed and deepened.
And that was how we fell asleep that night.
It was not what I had in mind when I decided that distance was going to be our only option if neither of us were ready to admit out loud how we felt.
The problem was, you could only go so far if you couldn’t let go.
***
So, what do you guys think?
I know, I know, why can't they just get over it already and be together right? It isn't easy in reality and it won't be easy in fiction either. I like the little things and I think it builds them up nicely. Still, let me know what you thought of the chapter.
I will do my best to put up another chapter over Christmas but in case it gets super-crazy, it might be late a few days. I hope you guys will be busy enough during the holidays, celebrating with family and friends.
Thank you for sticking it out with me through 2014. It'll be over soon but just like a book, a new chapter starts whenver one ends.
Happy Holidays!
XOXO!
-Ninya
P.S. Love this song! I feel like it's perfect for that hug when she was drying his hair.
♪♪♪ Chapter Soundtrack: Feel This by Jonathan Jackson and Enation ♪♪♪
Said the more I sing this song
The more I feel your love fall down on me
Said the more I sing this song
The more I feel your love fall down on me
In the darkness I am found
Found with your love surrounding me
Feel this
Can you feel this?
My heart beating out of my chest?
Feel this
Can you feel this?
Salvation under my breath