Page 73 of The Friend Game

Luke chuckles. “You know your imagination is one of the things I love most about you. Among many other things, of course.” My brain immediately tunnels in on the word love, but I give it a forceful reminder that he didn’t say he lovedme, but that he loved somethingaboutme. A very key difference.

“Oh really?” I adopt my best coy expression (and I’ve practiced in the mirror many a time—so I think it’s pretty good). “Care to tell me more about these other things?”

His eyes turn molten. “Let me take you out to dinner, and I’ll be glad to.”

“Yeah, okay.” I nod breathlessly, and follow him out the door, completely forgetting about my slightly disheveled state under the heat of his approving gaze.

“How does Thai food sound?” he asks as we walk. “I know this great place nearby–” he stops himself then turns to look at me. “Wait, do we need to go somewhere further away so we’re not seen together?”

Some of the air starts to leak out of the balloon of happiness I’ve been floating around in. His words remind me forcefully of those early months of dating Marshall. How he never wanted to be seen with me. Today at church Luke didn’t want to give my identity away. I assumed that was for my sake, but maybe it was actually for his own. Afterall, I’m in danger of being fired for lying. Not exactly a person he’d want to be associated with. Especially since he’s on probation.

It’s completely understandable on his part. Honestly, I should’ve thought of this myself.

So why am I so disappointed by it?

Luke must notice the way my face falls at his words because he takes my hand.

“Hannah,” he says, “I’m only asking out of concern for you. You’ve got that board meeting coming up and I don’t want to add any fuel to the gossip fire already burning at Grace Canyon. Not everyone is happy with my decision to break the contract I signed, and I don’t want you being the woman I broke my contract for to negatively affect the way the board votes.”

“Oh.Oh.” My hand goes to my heart. “I thought, well…I mean, I would evenunderstandif you wanted to wait to go public until after the board meeting is over and people are less focused on the fact that I lied about my certification. You don’t need me bringing down your approval ratings,” I say with an uneasy laugh.

“Hannah,” Luke shakes his head at me, “as the apostle Paul so aptly put it, ‘if I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.’ I came out with our relationship because I wanted to please God, not man. So when it comes to telling people about us, the decision is fully yours, okay?”He looks earnestly into my eyes and my stomach does a little flip-flop.

“Okay,” I agree. “In that case, I think we should not tell people that I’m the woman you’re seeing until after my meeting.”

“You do?”

“I do.” I nod. “I admire you for not being worried about people’s approval of you, but I would never forgive myself if my bad choices got you fired. You keep taking care of my needs, let me take care of yours for once.”

Luke studies my face, then nods. “Okay,” he relents. He lifts a hand and pushes my hair lightly off my face, cupping my cheek as gently as if I were made of glass. “Though I have another need that I think you could help with me.”

“Oh really?” My words come out breathy. “Which need is that?”

“The need to kiss you,” he says simply, then he tugs me the rest of the way to him and does just that.

Chapter 30

LIKE I’M SOME kind of Disney princess, the morning after my date with Luke I wake up singing, and I don’t stop. I sing in the shower, I sing while I’m getting dressed, I try to sing while I’m brushing my teeth (but mostly just get toothpaste spit all over my chin), I sing while doing my hair, I sing as I’m heading from my bedroom to the kitchen for breakfast—and that’s when I finally stop singing because sitting at my kitchen table is Jill.

She’s finally come for my reckoning.

“Don’t stop singing on my account,” she says. “Adele’s got nothing on you.”

“Funny.” I titter nervously, turning away from her under the guise of filling my coffee pot with water, but really just so I can take a steadying breath. I might be wrong, but I’m pretty sure there’s a lecture coming.

But Jill doesn’t say anything as I finish prepping my coffee. Nor does she say anything as Ihead to my fridge to get out some yogurt and fruit. She just sits at the table, watching me.

I know what she’s doing. She learned this trick from our mother, and I’ve seen her successfully implement it on Liam and Ellie—and even Max once or twice. She’s trying to fluster me with silence. Thinks I’ll break and blurt out what’s on my mind if she just waits me out. Waits and stares.

But it won’t work.

Not this time.

I set my yogurt tub down a little too forcefully on the table and some of it flies out, splattering across the wood.

Silently Jill passes me a napkin; her face completely impassive and entirely unnerving.

I take another deep breath, imagining myself as a vault and Jill as the person without the code to get in—forced to leave empty-handed.

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