Page 30 of The Friend Game

“You do?”

I nod. “Belinda Lagman mentioned it to me yesterday. She was itching to try her hand atmatchmaking with me, but said you were not a good match for me because of the contract you signed.”

“I see.” Luke is quiet for a second, his forehead creased in thought.

“So I guess I owe you an apology too,” I take a big breath then go on, “because even after I found that out, I sort of still hoped you’d ask me out.” I lean back against my desk, my knees a little shaky after this confession. “I should’ve respected the fact that you’re committed to staying single right now, and been less…” I search for the right word.

“Likable?” Luke supplies. “Funny? Sweet? Easy to be with?” His voice drops. “Beautiful?”

A shiver runs up my spine. “I was going to say flirtatious,” my mouth is so dry, my words come out in a whisper, “but your words are good too.”

Luke’s eyes are smoldering, and I can feel my breath start to quicken. How did a conversation about why we can’t date turn into such a passionately charged encounter? All at once Luke seems to remember himself, because he clears his throat and takes a few steps back.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I came in here to apologize for all the ways I’ve been leading you on, and then I just go and do it again.”

“No, it’s fine.” I smooth my hands over my dress, trying to regroup. “That was nice what you said. Friends can say nice things to each other.Listen to this, you look nice in that sweater blazer combo, friend.”

Luke lets out a low chuckle. “You know I made it through eight months of being single without much of a problem.” He pauses, then looks right at me. “Then I met you.”

Heaven help me. Luke’s not flirting game is strong. Where is my paper fan when I need it? I do a little wave of my hand up and down in front of my face. It doesn’t make my face feel any less heated.

“See, this fine,” I squeak. “I mean, thisisfine, we’re fine. Super fine.” Oh my. “We can be just friends. Friendly friends.” I can feel myself on the precipice of one of my nonsensical rambling sessions, but somehow I still can’t stop it from happening.

“As a matter of fact, I have experience in this area. When I was 13 I liked this boy, Chase, and Chase liked me too. But my parents didn't let my sisters and I date until we reached high school, so Chase and I had to be just friends.” I frown as other memories of that time surface. “Of course, that may not be the best comparison given how Chase and I didn’t have the same moral standards as, say, a pastor.” I gesture to him and his eyebrows pop up. “There was some kissing that happened unbeknownst to my parents,” I spell out unnecessarily. Pretty sure he already got that.

I forge on, “Which really brings us back to the beginning of our discussion today. We need to be just friends, which is good, because you’re a pastor, and clearly I was a disobedient adolescent. That type of thing could be genetic, Luke. Plus, you should know that I didn’t go to church for a whole year while I was in college. Like I just stopped going. What kind of pastor’s girlfriend just stops going to church? And sure, those are all past versions of me, skeletons in my closet if you will, but the current version of me is pretty flawed too.”

“Hannah,” Luke tries to interject, but I keep going, a freight train barreling down the tracks.

“For example, I go to the bar a lot. Granted it’s my sister’s karaoke bar, and I go more to see her than anything else, but still, the phrases, “pastor’s girlfriend” and “at the bar '' don't really go together. And last week I accidentally stole a yogurt from the grocery store. It was under my purse in the cart, and when I found it I went back inside to pay for it, but for about seven minutes I was a bona fide thief.” I suck in a breath, then burst out, “But worst of all, I’m a big, fat fibber. Seriously, I throw white lies around like confetti. I can’t stand to disagree with people, so that’s usually where my white lies stem from. Just ask Liam. He’ll tell you how I don’t actually like Spider-Man. That I was lying when I told him I did. Poor kid. Probably scarred him for life. Which actually brings up the fact that I bet youthink I likeStar Warssince I dressed up as Princess Leia for Halloween, but the truth is–that was Jill’s costume. I borrowed it because it was that or be a ninja without any weapons. I don’t likeStar Wars. Not even a little—”

“Hannah!” Luke’s voice is louder this time, and I finally stop, my chest heaving from talking so fast. He must’ve moved while I was speaking, because he’s now standing directly in front of me. He sets his hands on my shoulders, and the contact makes goosebumps erupt down my arms. “Listen closely.” Luke’s deep rumble settles over me, and I raise my eyes to meet his. “I am going to ask you out, Hannah Garza. I don’t care about your bar-visiting, accidental-thievery, white-lying,Star-Wars-hating ways. I still want to take you out.” The intensity in his gaze has me rooted in place. “The only question is whether or not you’re willing to wait four months for me? I know it’s a lot to ask, so if not, I completely understand. But if you are, then I’ll see you at your front door in four months. I’ll be the guy picking you up to take you to dinner. I hope you like pasta, because I know this great little Italian place.”

Fireworks are exploding in my chest, but I try to play it cool. In a distant far-off part of my brain I can hear a voice that sounds an awful lot like Jill’s warning me to think about this before I just agree.Alot can change in four months,the voice says.You’re playing with fire trying to be just friends.

“Does this restaurant have breadsticks?” I query.

“Of course,” Luke assures me with a grin.

“Then it’s a date,” I grin back, shushing the voice in my head. Who really listens to their big sister anyway?

Chapter 12

“I NEED YOUR help,” Brooke says when I pick up the phone the following Saturday.

“Hello to you too,” I reply, a little grumpy because right before Brooke called, my phone alarm went off reminding me that I swore to myself to clean my bathroom today. I’d ignore both the alarm and my vow, but I already ignored them last weekend. Now my soap scum is growing new soap scum. The job cannot be put off any longer.

“Here’s the situation,” Brooke ignores my bad mood, carrying on like I asked for specifics, “you remember Sydney’s daughter Caroline?

I abandon my scrubbing bubble spray and sit down on the lid of the toilet. “Of course I remember your best friend’s daughter, Brooke. Why?”

“She needs to come to Grace Canyon,” Brooke proclaims. “But Sydney can’t afford the tuition.”

“Okayyy,” I stretch out the word. “Well, I’d love to help them out, but right now I have about zero discretionary income.”

“No, no,” I can hear Brooke’s answering eye roll in her tone, “I don’t want you to help pay for her to go there. I would’ve called Jill for that. No, I need your help getting her into the school on scholarship.”

“Brooke,” I let out a short laugh, “I’ve been teaching at Grace Canyon for a week. I don’t have much pull in admissions.”

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