Page 94 of Falling Backwards
Chill out a little bit, girl.You don’t have a real reason to think Kyle is here.And even if he is, you’re not alone no matter how empty it looks around here—Luke is super close by, and thereareemployees…and…other shoppers somewhere….
Across the way, a guy has shuffled into my line of sight.My breath freezes in my chest.His sandy-blond head is turned away from me as he peruses the rack of sweatpants Luke visited a little while ago.
Kyle’s hair looks like that.
And the frame of his body does too—it looks like that guy’s.
…Ithinkthe latter is true, anyway.It’s kind of hard to tell from this distance, this angle.
My heartbeat can’t decide between ramping up and remaining calm.
Is that really him?What’s the likelihood of it versus the likelihood of me just being paranoid?
He shifts as if to look this way, and my fear takes over.I bolt with a gasp I can’t contain.
Even once I’m around the inner corner of the fitting rooms, out of sight of him, I keep rushing, heavily heading for—
I gasp again as the only closed door flies opens and Luke fires through it.I teeter to a halt so I don’t collide—
Ho.
Ly.
Shit.
“Hey.”Towering and intense andshirtless, Luke looks me over, then peers around behind me.“You okay?”
Once again, my lungs aren’t working right.
Holyshit, jeans and socks are all he’s wearing.
I try not to stare, but it’s too hard to resist.I’ve been aware for months that adult Luke is handsome in a different way from how teenage Luke was—he’s grown into being thicker and more masculine—and this is serious proof that I wasn’t expecting to get.
Those jeans couldn’t accentuate his bottom half any better.They were made for his hips, his thighs, the vague shape of the rest of his legs.As for his top half, his uncovered shoulders and torso and arms look stronger than they do in clothes, but he’s not exactly toned.He just looksgood.Even his navel is attractive somehow.
Paired with my memories of our most recent physical contact, this sight of him easily teases how good he probably is at giving real hugs, at snuggling, at playfully carrying a girl around.
Lifting her onto a countertop during a kiss.Caging her against a soft bed while they—
No, myGod, I shouldn’t imagine things like that.
But now my brain is having a dangerously easy time imagining the girl as m—
“Maggie?”
Starting, I close my mouth—when did it fall open?—and look at Luke’s face again.
Mine is on fire, I realize.
Along with a lot of the rest of me.
His cheeks have colored too.He slips one hand over his mouth in a half-hearted rub.
Are his eyes even more intense than before?
I finally manage, “I’m sorry.”The words are as dry as my throat has gone.But how can my throat feel dry when my mouth is practically watering?
Wow,that’sa confusing and embarrassing thing to notice: I apparently find Luke mouthwatering.
