Page 104 of Wish You Would

“Hey.” Luke’s voice was stern. I looked up in time to watch him stride across the restaurant, eyes zeroed in on me. His chair scraped across the floor as he pulled it out, then he sat across from me. “Hey,” he said again when I didn’t immediately meet his eyes.

Sighing, I looked up. “Yeah?”

He didn’t speak immediately. Just looked me over in his assessing way, as if he was cataloguing data in his mind. Which, he probably was. Finally, as if deciding on a course of action, he sat back in his chair, resting an elbow on the table. “What would happen if this didn’t go well? Walk me through it.”

I ripped my gaze from his to stare at my wringing hands. “I don’t know,” I said, blood rushing in my ears as the thought settled over me. Parker, gone forever. “It’d fucking suck.”

“Right.” I saw him nod from the corner of my eye. “It would suck a fucking lot. But you know what else would happen?”

Annoyance had me lifting my head before I thought about it. “Please, do tell, you depressing oracle fuck.”

Luke laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’ll be okay, you asshole. That’s what’ll happen.” He looked at me, expression wide open. “It’ll hurt like a motherfucker, and you’ll probably want to die. There might be days you regret ever being born, and days you have to force yourself to do the most mundane tasks.” His eyes drifted to a spot over my shoulder, a haunted look settling into them. He stared at nothing for a moment before he blinked and refocused back on me. “But,” he said, renewed determination in his blue eyes. “With time, you’ll be fine.”

I met his gaze, his words sinking in, one by one. Their meaning—for me, and for him—took aim straight for my heart. My eyes burned. “Luke,” I said, the single syllable coming out in a hoarse whisper. My heart hurt. For me, and for my friend. “What—”

“I have to get going.” He stood abruptly and cleared his throat, all signs of emotion tucked neatly behind his perfectly pressed suit.

I scrambled to my feet, grabbing his arm. “Wait,” I said, panic a heartbeat in my ears. “I can’t…what if…fuck, Luke. What if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

Luke pried my hand from his forearm and held it between both of his. His eyes searched mine as he measured his words and strung together an answer. As he tried to figure out how to diffuse the bomb before him. Finally, he spoke. “Well, first off, it would be her loss. No bullshit,” he added when he saw me about to protest. “Your loyalty is unmatched, and you love fucking hard. I’ve seen it in your relationship with your brother, and I’ve seen it in our friendship. I can only imagine how much harder you love when it’s a partner.”

I blinked, eyes blurry.

“Don’t cry,” Luke growled. “You’ll mess up your makeup.”

“Well, then don’t be so fucking sweet.” I tilted my head back and blinked furiously. “Asshole.”

“Ahh, there she is.” I could hear the grin in his voice. “My loyal and loving best friend.”

Despite the cyclone of emotion inside me, I laughed. Once I could see Luke clearly again, without the blur of tears, I asked, “And second?”

He nodded, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. “Second,” he started, eyes going far-off for a moment. When he looked at me again, there was something unreadable buried beneath the surface. “At least you tried.”

His words hung in the air, implications swirling with encouragement, and, despite the unfathomable emotions roaring through me, I placed a steady hand on Luke’s shoulder. “After this?” I started, indicating with a glance everything around us. “We’re gonna have a long talk about whatever’s going on there.” I waved a finger at his face. “I want that story.”

His jaw clenched. He looked like he was going to protest, but something stopped him. Instead, he tilted his head. Not an agreement, but not an outright no, either. I’d take it.

“You have,” he said with a glance at his watch, “about ten minutes to get your shit together. I should get going.” He braced his hands on my shoulders and gave me a brisk shake. “You’ve got this, Gi.”

I exhaled, slow and steady, and nodded. Luke nodded back, gave my shoulders one more squeeze, then left.

I stood in the middle of Shrimpy Dick’s, then. Alone, save for the cook in the back, finishing up the food I’d ordered. Soon, he’d be gone, too. Soon after that…

Blowing out a breath, I brushed my hands over my hips and surveyed the restaurant one last time. The bright overhead lights had been turned off, leaving only the pendant lights over each table around the perimeter to illuminate the space. Our table, the one in the back corner, was glowed with candlelight. The fancy candelabra kind, gold and glimmering in the center of the table. I’d wanted tea lights. Something subtly romantic. But when I requested candles, this was what Luke showed up with.

Fuck, it was too much.

“Shit,” I muttered, stomping toward the table. I’d just leaned in to blow the candles out when there were voices at the front of the restaurant.

“…don’t know, Anya. It doesn’t look open to me.”

My stomach somersaulted. Straightening, I stood stock still, hand on the back of the booth, eyes glued to the corner they’d round at any second.

“You kidding me?” Anya retorted, all smooth and casual. “This place is always open.”

“But why is it so dark? What if…” I could hear their shoes skid to a stop on the tile floor. Then, Parker whispered, “What if they’re getting robbed? Right now?”

I pressed my lips together to stifle a laugh. I could perfectly picture her face right now, eyes wide with worry—and maybe a dash of excitement, my warped little weirdo—and my chest warmed.

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