Page 85 of The Switch: A Friends To Lovers Romance

His mission to get water forgotten, Luke fell to his knees and clicked the arrow button on the keyboard.

Another picture sprung up. This one of him and Ashanti on a rollercoaster, her head ducked into his chest in obvious fear while Luke had his mouth open mid-yell.

“What the…?” He pressed the button in rapid-fire strokes and watched the pictures change over and over again.

Someone stirred behind him. It was James waking up.

Luke scrambled over to his cousin, the laptop held tightly in his grip. “Who made this?”

“You did.” James groaned. “Oh, my head hurts.”

“I did?” The moment those words spilled from his lips, the memories shot back into his brain. Luke almost dropped the laptop. “Where’s my phone?”

“What?” James winced.

He scrambled over to Harold and nudged the large man over on his side. “Harold, have you seen my phone?”

“Mfff,” he grumbled.

Luke darted to the sofa and lifted every pillow until his phone clattered to the cushions. He scooped it up and scrolled through his messages, staring at the screen in horror.

“What?” James asked, walking up behind him.

Luke ran a hand through his hair. “I texted Ashanti to meet me. Tonight. At the café.”

“Oh yeah,” James said. His eyes were smaller than usual since he was still half-conscious. He smoothed the front of his wrinkled white button up as he spoke on a yawn, “Your big confession is tonight.”

Luke tapped the screen. “No, no, no. I can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“It’s crazy, that’s why.”

Before Luke could type a message recanting his invitation, Ashanti replied.

ASH: I’ll be there.

The phone slipped from his fingers as Luke groaned. He whirled on James, black eyes flashing. “This is your fault!”

“Me?”

“It was your stupid idea.”

“It’s better than doing nothing.” James pushed Luke away. “I have court at eight. Wake Harold before Lin breaks my door down looking for him.”

Luke sank into the couch and half-heartedly poked Harold with his foot. “Wake up, man.”

Harold snored in response.

Feeling miserable and not particularly kind, Luke yelled—“Lin! I can explain! I swear!”

Harold shot straight up like a man possessed, his face creased in fear. He held a hand over his head and flinched. “Lin?”

“James said to go home,” Luke said evenly.

Harold blinked. “Come on, man.”

“Sorry.”

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