Page 45 of Cakes for the Grump
Is he going to ask about it? Why hasn’t he?
Thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s raining enough now that my hair is going to be soaked if we stand out in the open longer. Deftly, Luke hails down a cab, deciding not to bother asking again. He opens the passenger door for me. “Get home now.”
I put one foot inside. “And you?”
“I have to go back and check on Theo.”
Is that it? Or is Sophie waiting for him back there? Feeling suddenly exhausted, I fall into the backseat.
The door closes behind me, but the front window rolls down. Lukepasses the driver money. “Get her where she needs to go safely,” he says, his voice a low warning. The cabbie nods and before I can say anything else to Luke, we are off into the night.
The drive is blessedly short.
And when I am inside my apartment again, a shower does the trick of settling me down, so by the time I’m finally in my bed, the night is less immediately playing on my mind, only impatiently brimming by the edges of my consciousness. I will not replay the events of the evening. There will be no imagining of Luke’s reactions around me, the way I felt him staring at times…the power of his hands around my face…how we tripped forward…
My finger moves over my lip.Did we—had our mouths actually touched?—
I’m hot all over, but still I yank my blanket over my face. It didn’t happen. I don’t think so. I’m exaggerating it in my head. When I can’t breathe, I come up for air and kick off the bed covers. What I should focus on is how he kept himself apart when I got the good news…
How…infuriatingbecause that’s the proper reaction to land on. It’s not as if I was going to bite him. There was no need to be so damn cautious around my happiness.
Happiness… I passed. MealKits Masala wants me to go on!
My shoulders sink in infinitesimal relief.
Then my phone beeps, a rather annoying thing, calling for my attention. I’m not answering, I decide. My eyes close and I will myself to fantasize about future meal kit challenges. This might have worked if ten minutes later, a follow-up didn’t come through.
I grab it from the side table.
LUKE
Did you get home?
When I don’t respond, there is another message.
LUKE
Answer me.
Huffing, I glare at his bossy demand.
Another message comes in.
Or I’ll have to come and check for myself.
That won’t do! I stab out a response.
ME
Don’t. I’m home and need sleep.
It’s a workday tomorrow, and I’m not allowed to be late.
LUKE
Your employer sounds like an ass.
Too easily I can agree and end the conversation that way. However, my fingers hesitate. Then I type, blaming it on my alcohol lowered inhibitions.
