Page 41 of Don't Make Me Beg
I suck in a breath as I gently turn the crystal knob, but rather than spinning freely, it sticks with resistance. It’s locked.
My shoulders sag with disappointment, and I decide it’s probably for the best. A girl can only take so much heartbreak in one day. I’d rather keep my memories intact.
Remembering what I’m really up here for, I spin around and see a cracked door. This used to be an extra bedroom. The master is at the opposite end of the hall, so I assume this must be Luka’s office.
Carefully, I tiptoe down the hall, gently pressing the cracked door open as I slide inside.
The room is dark, despite the afternoon sun shining brightly outside, and a large mahogany desk sits in the center across from a wall of bookshelves filled with books. Furniture fills every inch of the space but not in an overly crowded way.
There’s a tint on the windows, which I’m guessing is the reason it’s so dark in here, with a view that overlooks the spooky forest I was always obsessed with as a kid. The stories of the monsters that lived in the forest never scared me. I was just a child the first time I heard the stories—they were no doubt intended to scare us from setting foot in the forest, but they only made me more curious.
As I grew older, I found that I felt more connected to them than anything else. I’ve always felt a connection to Phantom’s Reach, maybe because I knew what it felt like to be misunderstood. I used to sneak in here and try to paint the spooky trees, hiding the words I never felt safe to say in their shadows.
But then my mother found my paintings, and it wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t share the same sentiments. She had a lock installed on the door the very next day, and I came home to discover she’d thrown away all my art supplies, too.
The sad memory aches like a bruise on my heart that my fingers long to press, if only to remember it was real. I close my eyes, pushing the memory to the back of my mind where I can revisit it again rather than wiping it away.
Ready to get back to my search, I spin around, letting my gaze drift over the massive desk in the center of the room.There’s a notepad laid out with a checklist that’s almost fully checked off. I pick it up, trying to make out Luka’s scribbled handwriting.
— Make donation for Theater reno…
— Cross-reference Ivy’s vendor list with confirmed returning vendors
—Finalize database redesign for criminal outreach services project
— Follow up on Girl Scouts sponsorship fund
— Make town meeting itinerary
I don’t have time to analyze what I’m reading before the heavy thud of footsteps climbing the stairs startles me, and I drop the list. The sudden sense of dread washes over me as the thuds grow louder, telling me he’s coming this way.
“Oh shit.” I slap a hand over my mouth as my eyes dart around the room, looking for somewhere to hide.
Panic like I’ve never felt courses through me, and I dive behind the armchair in the corner just as the door creaks open...
My heart beats like a snare drum, the pounding in my ears is so loud I’m surprised it hasn’t given me away. My breaths are shallow as I try to keep as still as possible.
I watch him fall into his desk chair, already loosening his tie as he lets out a heavy sigh. He looks like he’s stressed about something, and I find myself wondering what on earth there is for him to be stressed about. He’s not the one who’s just had his whole world ripped out from underneath him. He’s got a freaking AI assistant at his every beck and call for Christ’s sake.
My conscience takes that opportunity to remind me that I’m not exactly in a position to be judging anyone. Besides,considering the checklist I just discovered on his desk, I guess it’s safe to say there are a lot of things I don’t know about Luka Kingsley.
Touché.
I swallow a gulp as I let myself drink in the stolen glances, suddenly all too aware of just how attractive this man is. Has he always been this insanely good-looking? Did I really not see it back then, or did I become desensitized from watching him grow up before my eyes?
It’s not that I was completely oblivious… I had a crush on him for as long as I can remember, but I guess I was always too shy to admit it. And it’s not like he ever seemed interested in being anything other than friends. Not until graduation night anyway…
I press my fingers against my lips, as the memory of that kiss burns against my skin, my body responding like it happened just moments ago rather than years… The sensations only grow stronger when he begins rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. I feel my stomach do a somersault.
Ok, this is fine. All I have to do is wait for him to get up and go to the bathroom, and then I’ll make my escape. He’ll never even know I was here. I wipe my sweaty palms against my t-shirt as my anxiety skyrockets, making my heart race even faster. There’s a worried anticipation brewing beneath the surface, which is probably the cause for all my mixed-up emotions right now. I keep waiting, halfway expecting L.O.K.I. to rat me out any second. Like I’m staring at a jack in the box waiting for it to pop out…
Luka rustles some papers before sliding open a drawer and depositing them inside, then he clicks open his browser. and the computer monitor light illuminates the dark room.
“Fuck, man. Get it together,” he mutters with a frustrated sigh as he glances over his shoulder at the now closed door.
I squeeze my eyes shut and curl my legs tight against my chest, trying to make myself as small and unnoticeable as possible.Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.
He clicks a few more times, and the sound of soft jazz music fills the silent space.
