Page 35 of This Much Is True
“Yeah. If you have an online dating profile, you should put that in your bio.” I drag my finger through the air. “I protect baby deer.” I shrug. “It would get you lots of swipes.”
He tears his garlic bread and stuffs half a piece in his mouth. I wait for him to comment on my observation, but he doesn’t. Worse, I think he knows that I want him to admit whetherhe does or does not use dating websites and is intentionally screwing with me.
Bastard.
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll ask. Do you use dating sites?”
His laughter is rich and warm. I could listen to it forever.
“What does it matter to you?” he asks.
“I’m just curious.”
“Are you going to make a profile and stalk me there, too?”
I gasp. “I don’t stalk you online. I just watch some of your videos.”
He hums.
I hum right back.
“No, I don’t use dating sites,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I tried them once, and I saw enough weird shit the first weekend that I deleted it. People are fucked up.”
“You should see some of the letters and gifts people send me. I had a guy send me ten used condoms once in the mail.”
Luke’s eyes widen. “That’s gross.”
“I know. Another guy sent me a tooth. I’ve had fingernail clippings, voodoo dolls, and someone sent me a live baby scorpion.”
He sets the other half of his bread down. “You don’t open that shit, do you?”
“No. It all goes to a post office box, and someone on my team opens it all. We’re really careful about it.”
He shakes his head like he can’t believe it.
“I got my luggage and phone today,” I say.
“How’d that go down?”
“Gavin met Stephanie on a random street in Brickfield. She basically threw it in his trunk and jetted away. Then Gavin brought it to me after stopping at the gas station, The Wet Whistle, and Chase’s to make sure he wasn’t being followed.”
He nods like he’s not surprised, which surprises me. But I don’t say anything. I don’t want him to think I’m overthinking things.
I scoop up a forkful of spaghetti. “I had the best day being here all alone. I can’t think of the last time I was truly alone.”
“Really?”
“I’ve beenaloneat home before, but that’s semantics. Cameras monitor all the exits, and men patrol the grounds at all hours. Since people can look up my addresses online, they do. Those situations can get hairy.”
The lines around Luke’s eyes wrinkle.
“What about you?” I ask. “How was your day? What happened in the horseshoeing business?”
Luke takes a drink of tea. But before he can answer, his phone rings.
“Fuck. I should’ve turned this off before we sat down,” he says, looking at the screen. “It’s Mom. I’ll call her back.”
“No, answer it.”
