Page 173 of Falling Backwards
LUKE:I’m at the door
Swallowing hard, I get to my feet.While I go, I clutch my phone to my chest as tightly as I try to keep my footsteps light.
Quiet, quiet, quiet,I tell myself as I unlock the door and open it.
Luke is standing there with his dark semi-curls mussed, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, his hoodie unzipped over his shirt.
And don’t forget to breathe, girl.
A stupid thing to have to remember, but the sight of himisso oddly breathtaking.Aside from being handsome, he also looks the way I feel: like the hours we’ve been apart have been long and all they’ve done is encourage intense thoughts to pile up, not mellow out.
His eyes soak me up and I almost apologize for still being in my pajamas—not because I think he cares but because I don’t know what else to say.In fact, I cantellhe doesn’t care.It’s so wild to say I’ve become familiar with what adult Luke’s appreciation of me looks like, but I have, and I see it now.
He doesn’t say anything either.Even after he takes a breath and meets my eyes again like he’s about to speak, nothing comes out.
Bitter Maggie would bite out something like,‘Okay, you said you wanted to see me, and now you have.Go away.’
I don’t want that, don’t feel that way.And I decide we don’t have to stand here until one of us figures out speech, so I just step back and wordlessly invite him into the apartment.
He takes the invitation.
I remember to be quiet, quiet, quiet as I shut and lock the door.
Just like that, it’s hard to see.The bit of moonlight I was sitting in before doesn’t do much at all for me now.But there’s no way I’m going to turn lights on in here and risk waking my friends, and if Luke wants to talk about the park, I know he’ll agree with me that a common area isn’t ideal for it.A conversation like that is private.So I do the only thing that makes sense: I turn on my phone’s flashlight and make my shaky body work enough to lead the way to my room.
Even without looking back, I can tell he’s following me, no questions asked.
Be quiet.Don’t forget to breathe.
That second thought becomes the more important of the two once we’re closed into my room, where he’s never been before.I try to focus on turning my flashlight off and setting my phone on the dresser near me, but my attention is mainly on how he seems to take up a crazy amount of this lamplit space.It’s something I’ve never felt anyone else do here or in any other room; it puts a buzz in the air.
The buzz worsens in the best way over how neither of us has moved very far from the other.
And even more over the fact that the new gaze we’re in is allowing the expression he wore hours and hours ago to build back up.The one that’s both gentle and intense, both affectionate and longing, and deep all the way through.
I’m free to mirror it this time with everything around us so still and silent, with no one else even awake.
Between everything I feel and everything emanating from him, I swear my heart is going to thump out of my chest.
What should I say?
What doeshewanna say?
He takes another breath like he’s going to speak.
Then, at last, in a low rasp: “Maggie, I….”
That tone hitting my ears in person, wrapped around my name.That expression.Gorgeous.
I’m not having trouble breathing anymore.I’m having trouble not breathing too loudly.
“I….”he tries again, his brow furrowing just a little bit.
There’s no stopping my eyes from hanging a long look on his lips.I whisper, “What?”
I get back to those eyes just before they drop tomylips.It makes my heart skip a beat.
And another as he rushes out, “Fuck it,” and comes towards me.
