Page 15 of My Pucking Valentine

She arches a brow in my direction, and I expect her to tell me what I’m going to do and how I’m going to do it, but she doesn’t. At least not directly. Instead, she leans back in her chair and crosses one knee over the other.

“Do tell, Luke, what do you want to do, and how do you think it will play out?”

Fuck.

There’s nothing like feeling you’re trapped in a goddamn corner because that’s exactly how I feel right now.

FOURTEEN

CLARA

I refreshmy email app every three seconds, searching for correspondence. I’ve effectively ignored every social media message that’s hit my inbox, and the only thing I can focus on is the email as I wait for the one that states I’m fired.

Because I’m going to be fired… right?

There is no way, no fucking way, that I’m getting nothing, that nobody has seen the news because I even got an alert on my phone from several news outlets. I don’t know what to do, where to go, or what to think, so I stay in my bedroom and wait.

What is most concerning is that I haven’t heard a word from Luke, either. Nothing. Not a text, not an email, not a carrier pigeon, nothing. I’ve never felt so much in limbo in my entire life. I can’t imagine I’m going to just walk out of this apartment unscathed. Not with the way the media has been posting about the scandal…

What a scandal

Two people who aren’t blood-related are in a relationship.

Wow. How scandalous.

Just because our parents got married when we were teenagers, people are judging us. I also wonder who has seen the video. Because I know those girls were recording us. God, I can’t even imagine how many people have seen my bare ass.

Tapping my foot, I try to distract myself by turning on the television, but nothing can curtail my intrusive thoughts. The cloud of doom is hanging over my head, and I’m just waiting for it to start pouring down on me.

It’s coming. I know it is.

And when my phone buzzes in my hand, I let out a little scream and throw it across my bed.

I was expecting it to happen so much that it scared the shit out of me when it finally did. Laughing at myself, I reach for the device and suck in a breath, holding it as I look at the new notification.

It’s from Luke.

My heart starts beating a million miles a minute, and I find that my breath becomes shortened. In fact, it’s hard to breathe altogether. I press my palm against my chest as I read the message.

LUKE: WE NEED TO MEET AND TALK.

Shit.

That’s bad.

My eyes well up with tears, and as much as I try to fight them back, they slide down my cheeks anyway.

Instead of telling him that I don’t want to talk about anything, instead of avoiding this whole scenario, I agree to speak with him. I know he’s going to want to come here because where else would he go? Every single time we’ve been together, minus last night at the bar, has been here.

I’m his little secret.

Something that used to feel so absolutely thrilling but now feels wrong and dirty.

Less than ten minutes later, there is a knock on my bedroom door. I’m far too scared to stand and open it myself, so I just call out for Luke to come on in. I know it’s him. Sarah likely let him in, no doubt eyeballing him the entire time he walked across the small living room and toward me.

The door opens, and he stands with his shoulder leaning against the jamb, his gaze focused on me. I can’t hold back my tears. The doom cloud is pouring down, and I’m frozen where I am, waiting for those words…we’re done.

Luke doesn’t seem too upset, which really doesn’t ease my worry because he never seems worried about anything. Unless it’s winning or losing a game. That’s his focus in life—hockey—which is fine with me because my focus has been teaching and getting my new certifications this year, although, throughout all of that, I did fall in love with him.

---