Page 57 of Don't Make Me Beg
“Trust me, that won’t be necessary!” I call back.
“Suit yourself.”
Once I’m inside and safe from Luka’s teasing, I lean against the sink and take in my reflection. Wet hair falling in loose waves around my bright, red, flushed cheeks that make my hazel eyes look more green than gold, and not a trace of makeup in sight. I guess the rain washed it all off completely.
It’s weird, somehow, I feel more beautiful right now than when I’ve got a full face of makeup and my hair perfectly styled. The flush on my cheeks gives me a youthful glow. I guess embarrassment looks good on me.
Embarrassment… or arousal?
“I’m starving, so I’m going to order a pizza. Jalapeños and hot honey still good with you?” Luka says from the other sideof the door, making me jump like I’ve just been caught thinking something I shouldn’t.
Honestly, can I not have one private moment to my thoughts without having Luka alerted to it? Does he have some sort of heart rate censor monitoring me?
“Yeah, if that’s what you want. I’m not picky,” I quickly call back.
But rather than answering me, I hear his voice in the distance repeating the order like he’s talking on the phone.
I don’t know why, but that simple gesture does something to me, and I get this warm fluttering feeling in my stomach. I can’t remember the last time someone asked me my preference for pizza… Jimmy certainly didn’t. He practically ate like a toddler, hating any seasoning on his food, especially spicy food. I don’t think he’d know how to order a pizza if his life depended on it.
Stop comparing everyone to Jimmy. Luka is your…
Husband.
I shake my head, still trying to wrap my brain around it. Images from tonight’s meeting rush back—Luka claiming me as his wife in front of the whole town, the way his jaw clenched when he realized what my parents were saying, the fury in his eyes like he was ready to burn the world down if it meant protecting me.
I’ve never felt so…wanted. By anyone.
It’s all supposed to be pretend, but I can’t help but feel like we’re starting to blur the lines. And it’s messing with my head in ways I didn’t expect.
I peel off the heavy, wet layers and pull on the soft, worn, oversized t-shirt that smells like Luka. He was thoughtful enough to let me borrow a pair of his sweatpants, even though they’re way too big. I do my best to tie the waistband as tight as possible, but they still hang loose at my hips, and I have to roll up the legs four times, so I don’t trip on them. I glance down atmyself and blow out a sigh. I may look ridiculous, but at least I’m warm now.
When I swing open the door, I walk right into the immovable force that is Luka. His hands grip my waist to steady me. Neither one of us moves as I stare up at his defined jaw, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and my fingers itch to trace it. Then I feel his thumb brush against my hip and take a big, not-so-subtle step back. “Thanks for the clothes,” I say in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like my own, and give him two thumbs up for emphasis.
He huffs a laugh like he’s holding back another tease. “No problem. Hey, so I was thinking since we’re already ordering pizza, we could watch a movie or something, too?” He shrugs. “If you’re up for it.”
I narrow my eyes, not even trying to hide my suspicion at his jarring mood change. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” He holds a hand over his heart like I’ve wounded him. “I just figured tonight was… a lot… and I don’t know about you, but I could use a little escapism.”
I twist my lips, considering his offer.
“You can’t tell me this isn’t perfect movie-watching weather,” he adds, just as the low rumble of thunder echoes in the distance.
He’s not wrong… And it has been far too long since I’ve had free time to watch a movie—well, apart from the Avengers marathon with L.O.K.I. that is, but that felt more like babysitting a genius preschooler than relaxing and enjoying myself with as much as he talked. Of course, I’d never tell him that.
”All right. Yeah. A movie night sounds fun.” I nod, feeling awkward all of a sudden.
I bite my cheek and rock back on my heels, trying to push the detailed reminders from my mind. Not helpful, brain.
“I went ahead and took the liberty of selecting the movie. I hope you don’t mind.” He gestures over his shoulder to the couch, where I notice he’s already set out a bowl of popcorn.
I try to ignore the flutters my stomach gets from knowing he was so confident that I’d say yes and also the fact that he never really cared to have popcorn during a movie, but I always insisted we needed it.
It doesn’t mean anything. He’s probably just being nice.I remind myself, but who are we kidding? Luka isn’t exactly the poster child for being nice.
Kind? Yes.
But nice? Absolutely not.
