Page 5 of One Little Problem
“I won’t listen, so you should just do what I want,” I advised him sweetly.
“Fine.” Wow, that was pretty easy. “I’m giving you a helpful tip as you’re about to run into that pole.” He stopped and seemed content to watch the show.
Dammit. I stopped, throwing my hands in the air to protect my face. I could not get another black eye when around Luke; my father might actually murder him and Luke’s corpse probably wouldn’t be as much fun to hang out with. The smell would be worse, for one. I winced and braced for impact… nothing happened.
I looked ahead of me; there was nothing in the way. I turned to glare at Luke who was cracking up. “First, you make me do all this walking, now you’re taunting me.” All was right with the world, I had complaints again, even if they weren’t super serious.
He looked more amused. “You think this qualifies as a lot of walking?” He was so lucky amused was a good look on him. His face just seemed so carefree and open, even as he was making fun of me.
“It does for me and we just agreed you weren’t going to be mean.” I had to set limits; walking was definitely one of them. Maybe he could carry me. Yeah, I had height, but he was probably strong enough.
He smirked. “I didn’t sign anything.”
There was nothing special about this street we were on, except when Luke was on it. “So hot when you’re a smartass,” I informed him. He made everywhere better.
“Who do you think I got it from?” We had gotten separated a bit, stupid air standing in our way, but now we drifted back towards each other.
“Uh, we’re way in public,” I reminded him. Not too long ago, he would have cared. Our chests just barely grazed each other on each inhale. Would it be totally sappy to say each exhale hurt, as I fell out of contact with him, but every new breath was a fresh start, bringing us back together again.
“Can’t say I care,” Luke told me. This whole being sure of himself thing? Yeah, pretty hot. Maybe I said that about everything relating to Luke, but I wasn’t wrong.
On the romance scale, I don’t know, maybe this didn’t top the charts. We were standing in front of a building for a closed down deli that was either going to become a frozen yogurt place or a Chipotle or a front for the mob, depending on who you believed, but our town was too small for any of that. Used to be anyway.
Those from super tiny towns, they might laugh about ours being small. It was neither huge nor miniscule, but it occasionally felt like the latter. We had a few chain stores and more than one school district and stuff. Sometimes it felt so insufferably small. Or it used to. These days, there was plenty of space.
Felt like it took a while for my lips to meet Luke’s. Luke and I just stood there, inching closer and closer, me trying to make out the green in his eyes in the low light and really wanting to kiss but also liking this moment where we almost kissed and everything felt so fond and nice and our lips did brush finally and that was even better.
How had this become my life? Standing in public, kissing my boyfriend with barely a care in the world. See, totally perfect.
And then suddenly a throat was cleared loudly. Did Luke’s parents follow us to be chaperones? No, I turned to look, and my dad was standing in front of us instead. Great. “Oh, come on,” I complained. “He never has a life.”
“You’re saying that out loud,” Dad commented dryly.
I knew that! Maybe. “Your lack of life shouldn’t shock you.” Maybe he really was getting dementia and that wasn’t just a joke I made at his expense sometimes.
“Maybe that’s why I’m out tonight,” he coughed and looked away. “Having a beer with the guys.” That required a new shirt and combed hair? And who were these guys, were any of them hot? I had Luke but still. I almost mocked my father but then the conversation kept moving.
“Hey, it’s better than my parents,” Luke said. “We’ll go with you,” he told my dad. “You can buy us a beer.”
Dad smiled at him, looking more dangerous than friendly. “You are so lucky I don’t have a firearm anymore.”
Probably we’ve already established I’m a terrible person, so I didn’t have to feel bad for enjoying the way Luke gulped dramatically and he started looking around like he wanted to bolt. Confident was a good look on him. Scared was a good look on him. He looked good in everything and probably nothing too. Nope, don’t think of that while around Dad.
“What, I can’t make jokes?” Luke asked, laughing awkwardly and trying to project a vibe of ‘please don’t shoot me.’ He leaned into me a little, like I could protect him from my big, bad father. Aww.
“You aren’t as charming as you think you are,” Dad informed him.
“Beg to differ,” I muttered. “Oh no, I’m talking out loud again.”
“I don’t mind,” Luke said, looking at me with almost a shy smile.
“Beg to differ,” Dad disagreed.
Hadn’t we gotten over this? “Try being a little bit supportive,” I advised my father. “It won’t kill you.” There had been a moment where he hated Luke a little less. Couldn’t we go back to that?
“You’re the one telling me to watch my cholesterol. It might,” he sassed. Who had taught him sass? No one answer that; it was totally me. Guess that was a no on us all getting along.
“Luke’s parents are taking up all the disapproval so there’s none left for you.” I snapped my fingers, as if to say darn, too bad.
