Page 72 of Come to Me
There have been a lot of awful moments, too many temptations to count, and it's terrible being so far from Luke.
But I'm still glad I'm here. I was a nervous wreck for two weeks straight, but I'm finally calming down. And I'm on fucking Broadway.
"No," I admit. "But I really wish there was a way you could be here with me without uprooting your life."
"Me too. My life is pretty empty without you in it."
My face flushes. I take a sip of tequila, but that only makes the situation worse.
"A year together and that still makes you nervous?" he asks.
I nod.
"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or concerned." He lays his hand on top of mine and looks into my eyes. "Hell, you look so damn adorable when you're blushing. I don't think it's possible for me to feel anything negative when I see that."
And now it's much, much worse.
He laughs.
"Shut your beautiful mouth," I say. "I will have none of your sass."
"Not even a little bit?"
I shake my head.
"Even if it's the only way you can get into my pants?
"Always the same trump card."
He shakes his head. His eyes lock with mine. There's something so intense about it, almost as intense as before in the park.
I swear, it's like he was looking straight through me.
I bite my lip, my cheeks no doubt even redder. He smiles and squeezes my hand. "You're amazing, Ally. I hope you never change."
"What if I become jaded and cynical in my old age?"
"I'll still love you."
"Even if I get fat and ugly?"
"You could never be ugly."
"What if I was in a disfiguring accident," I prod. "A truly horrific one."
"Doesn't matter. You're still my Alyssa, even if you're my bitter, jaded, disfigured Alyssa." He looks around the room like he's checking for something then he brings his gaze back to me. It's back, the nervousness. There's a hint of it in his eyes.
We lock eyes for a long time. It's alarming at first, but, after a few moments, there's something so comfortable about it. I study all the contours of his face--that messy hair, the big, brown eyes, the too beautiful, too skilled for words mouth. That's Luke.
Yes, he's handsome as all hell. But that isn't what I think when I look at him.
It's just him. Luke. My boyfriend. The man I love more than anything. And, even though he still gives me butterflies, still takes my breath away, there's something about looking at him that makes me feel comfortable.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking," he starts. I can tell this is important.
"When you aren't torturing me?"
He nods. "My schedule of torturing you, maintaining my amazing body, and running a one-man law firm doesn't leave much time for thinking, but I make do." He smiles. His cheeks fill with a hint of color, again. God, he really is nervous.
