Page 35 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

He placed the knife down on the cutting board and turned to face her. “It looked real, Willow. And it’s confusing as fuck.”

“Luke,” she said softly. She placed her hand on his arm, his skin warm. Muscles rippled beneath her touch.

“It’s weird to see a version of yourself play out on video that isn’t really who you are. If it was real, it would be an amazing video, Will. Truly. But it’s not. And it feels duplicitous. I’m confused by it.”

The enthusiasm she’d had was gone. Along with the warm feelings his kiss had stirred. Now, she was as confused as he was.

Perhaps she shouldn’t post them. Perhaps she should reshoot them. Change the tone. While the moments had all happened, he did have a point that they were misleading when presented the way they were.

But, God, she needed them to be. “I need them to be believable,” she whispered.

“I know you do. Hell, there was a point when I was watching that I wanted to believe in them too. But we both know how this goes and how it ends. I just don’t know how we do this for a full year, pretending every day. Like, do you know how hard it is to keep my hands off you? I mean, not in a fucking creepy ‘you need to worry I’m going to molest you’ way. But look at you. You’re fucking gorgeous, Will. And that kiss. Bad fucking idea. Because now, I remember what you taste like, I want more.”

His words should make her happy, but they didn’t. Anger bubbled in her gut. “And there is the problem. You don’t want endless more. You want finite more. If you could have me for a no-strings night, you’d be in. But the idea of a relationship with responsibilities for me, for our child, scares you. You don’t want me. You want someone, and I’ll do. For now. I know you’re confused, but I can’t let you drown me in your confusion.” She picked up the contracts and closed her laptop. “I’ll post these tonight. Perhaps it’s best if I just go work in my room. Tell me when you are done making your dinner and I’ll come out and make my own.”

“Put the laptop down, Will,” he warned, his voice low.

“Luke. Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he asked, snatching the laptop out of her hand before putting it on the counter. “I’m trying to be honest with you. Isn’t that important? That we use our words like grown-ups. You asked me how I felt about the video, and I told you the truth. Remember that whole conversation we had about how given everything else was a lie, we should be truthful to each other. Don’t go getting pissy when you don’t like that.”

He stepped up into her space, backing her into the fridge. Her heart raced as she studied his eyes. Somehow, she knew she wasn’t at risk. “I didn’t get pissy.”

“Yes. You did. Own it, Will. I was honest, and you judged me. If I didn’t give a shit about you, I’d lift you up right now, flip that skirt of yours, and fuck you. Just how you liked it in Detroit. Soul-stirring. Passionate. Furious. So up inside you that you have no clue what your name is, because the only name on your tongue, in your mouth, inside you is mine.” He pressed his nose in the crease of her neck.

Her body furiously rebelled against her as wetness pooled between her legs.

She wanted that.

No, she didn’t.

And, shit, he was right. She was confused too.

“But here’s the thing, flower. I’m not the only one so fucking deep in mixed messages, and memories, and needs right now. At least own that shit.”

Willow turned her head, his lips so close to hers she could almost taste them. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It is confusing. All of it. I thought the rules would make it easier, but they don’t, do they?”

“No. They don’t.” He pressed off the fridge, then ran a fingertip along her nose. “But we’ll figure it out. Just don’t be offended and instead talk to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now, go post your stuff while I make dinner. We could probably do with a bit of time to cool off, yeah?”

Unable to speak, she simply nodded and returned to her room, wondering what she could do with the rage of emotions flooding through her veins.

“Hey, Matt,” Luke shouted as he jogged along the street to catch up with him. Ahead was the studio and a day of rehearsing, playing around with songs until they were happy with the concert arrangements.

“Morning, mate. Ready for today?”

Luke caught up to him. “Yeah. Can I chat with you about something first? Before we go in?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I’ve been getting to know Willow, and been rehashing shit about my life. She asked me about why I thought we were so tight that none of you would tell anyone what we were doing.” They stepped into the studio building and headed to the elevator.

“What did you say?”

“That we’re family. Dysfunctional, obviously. But family first. I miss writing songs with you. I felt pushed out when Jase began to step up.”

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