Page 31 of I Can't Help It

Maybe us sharing a room is the final push I’ve been needing. Again, why would Luke be so stressed about it UNLESS he liked me?

“Hey,” he drawls, now standing in front of me, “what’s wrong?” His fingers graze my forehead again. “Is your head hurting? We can go back inside and—”

He falls silent and his eyes get huge.

It’s because I grabbed his hand and slid my fingers between his.

Yeah, that’s right. WE ARE HOLDING HANDS.

Sooooo, what now?

I don’t know. I didn’t think that far ahead.

Luke doesn’t snatch his hand back like I was worried about, but he does continue to stare at me with a certain level of panic. He’s a deer caught in the headlights and I’m the one driving the massive truck that’s coming right at him.

“Don’t worry,” I finally speak, giving his hand a light squeeze, “my head is fine.”

“Good,” he mumbles, his gaze locked on our clasped hands. “That’s good.”

It’s time to test the waters a little bit more…

I take a step closer to him, and his quiet but sharp inhale sends a rush of adrenaline through me.

Something is there. Even if he doesn’t share the exact same feelings for me, he definitely feels something, and I need to know what it is.

“Luke,” I say as his eyes meet mine again, “I—”

My phone buzzes inside my back pocket as an unwanted, cliché interruption, but I decide to ignore it.

I clear my throat some. “Anyway—”

“You should probably check that, just in case it’s important.”

No, I shouldn’t check it, because I’m trying to let us have a freaking moment here!

But then our moment is over when Luke slowly unlaces his fingers from mine, like tugging a bandage off just a little bit at a time so the pain isn’t as bad…even though it hurts like heck anyway.

I hold back a curse as I grab my phone to see who has a death wish.

Sloane.

As much as I don’t want to answer the call, I know she’ll just keep calling me while also leaving a bunch of annoying voicemails.

“It’ll only be a sec,” I tell Luke with a weak smile. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised though if he decided to run and hide in the woods.

“Hello, Sloane,” I answer the phone, keeping my voice even. “What’s up?”

“Dude, you tell me?!” she exclaims with a huff. “I haven’t heard from you since the halfway point text! Did you make it? If I need to send a search and rescue party out, let me know now before I start my yoga session.”

“Yes, we did.” I roll my eyes at her usual dramatics. “And everything is fine. No search and rescue parties are needed.”

Even though Luke stepped aside to give me space for the phone call (space I didn’t want or need), he hears what I said and his eyebrows crease in confusion.

I just shake my head while mentally begging him to come stand by me again.

He doesn’t.

Ugh.

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