Page 84 of I Can't Help It

My jaw clenches, and I hope he doesn’t notice. Does he really have to go down memory lane right now?

“Ava is fine.” The words sound drier than unbuttered toast. “The heating pad was for me. My leg started to cramp after we took a cycling class this morning.”

“Ava does love her cardio,” he says with a chuckle. “Well, dang, are you okay then?”

My leg is okay. My blood pressure isn’t.

He needs to stop talking about Ava like—

Like what? Like she was his girlfriend?

No. Like he STILL wants her to be his girlfriend.

So, do something about it.

Tell him that you want her to be your girlfriend.

“Luke? You good, bro?”

“For sure,” I lie, feeling sick to my stomach. “I think Ava is downstairs waiting for me though, so I should probably go find her.”

“Oh, I’ll come with you.”

Yay. What a great idea.

Ava

When Luke walks into the lobby with Wyatt beside him, my heart is screaming with happiness and relief. He told Wyatt. He told him that we like each other. And now we can—

But then I see the look in those caramel eyes, and it tells me that nothing has changed. Wyatt still doesn’t know. I have to act like I don’t feel anything for Luke.

However, there’s a reason why Sloane is a drama teacher and I’m not.

My acting skills? They’re not so great.

“Hey, look who ran into each other!” I exclaim, sounding way too bubbly. “What a crazy coincidence, huh?”

Luke raises an eyebrow at my awkward greeting, but Wyatt is oblivious.

“I know, right?” Wyatt proceeds to laugh. “And my room is on the same floor as his.”

Which means all three of us have rooms on the same floor.

I think I’m ready for this on-site visit to be over. Well, I still need to ride a horse first, and then it can be over.

“So, are we heading outside for the fall festivities?” Wyatt asks, looking between us. “It’s going to be a sec until Maren and Trista are ready with Carter…I could use the company.”

While we were dating, I learned very quickly that Wyatt is a mega extrovert. He likes people and he doesn’t like spending time alone.

Kind of similar to a puppy. A puppy that’s 6”2 and has a short beard instead of fur.

“Of course,” I tell him with a smile. “Just wait until you see all the booths and everything else. You’re going to love it.”

“As long as I’m not near any butternut squash, I’ll be good,” Wyatt declares, swiping a hand through the air. “You guys know I have that—”

“Topical allergy,” Luke and I say at the same time.

Wyatt and I laugh at the coincidence. Luke doesn’t. Actually, Luke has been pretty emotionless this whole time. I don’t like it.

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