Page 74 of Promise Me Never

I stashed clothes in here the first day, just in case we had a moment like this. The sight of the bluish purple bruise on my abdomen reflected in the mirror stops me in my tracks. The mark from the guy at the bar is gone, erased by Luke’s possessive touch.

His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “I’m not sorry.”

“Even if it hurts?”

“Even if it hurts.” He hits me with the full force of one of his full, genuine smiles. The one with a flash of dimple and sexy lines around his eyes.

Fuck.

I’m in trouble.

I shake my head and put on a hoodie to battle the chill of the air conditioner. I forgot to bring down underwear so I grimace as I pull on my pajama shorts. I look over at Luke, who’s wearing a pair of sweats and a plain white t-shirt, looking ridiculously sexy and rumpled only to find him giving me a goofy smile.

“What?”

“Wondering what that face was about?” He points at my shorts. “When you put those on.”

“I didn’t bring clean underwear down here, so I’m going without.” I look down at the offending shorts situation. “I just hate how it feels all loose and free.”

When I look up at him I find him holding a laugh in, his hand trying to conceal the smile, but his eyes giving him away.

“What?” I ask, setting my hands on my hips.

“You’re cute when you pout.” He mirrors my stance and makes a grimacing face.

“I hate you,” I shake my head, trying not to join him in laughing.

“I don’t think that’s true.” He swings the door open and motions for me to go first. “Not one bit.”

Twenty-Eight

LUKE

* * *

“Are we ever going to talk about Eli sleeping in your room this weekend?” Colt asks as we watch Amber and Eli say goodbye outside the private airport lounge.

The girls cling to each other as if they aren’t going to see each other for years when, in a few short weeks, Eli will be going back to California. The thought sours my stomach, fears rising like bile in the back of my throat. I don’t want to let her go. It’s a thought I’ve had a lot over the past weekend.

My smiles come more easily when she’s near me. I feel lighter, happier. Joy is a feeling so foreign to me that I didn’t even understand that I was feeling it until she reached over and squeezed my hand under the table last night at dinner. She’s been a gateway back to myself.

“Do we need to talk about it?” I finally answer.

“I think we do.”

“Why?”

“She’s leaving in a few weeks.” He turns to look at me.

“We know that.” My teeth grind together. “It’s just a temporary thing.”

He looks away, his jaw ticking too.

“Spit it out,” I say gruffly.

He sighs heavily. “You guys don’t look at each other like it’s temporary.”

I scoff and shake my head. “We’re just having fun. Don’t make it into something serious. Have you said anything to anyone else?”

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