Page 32 of Lucky Strike

“Why do you keep looking at Luna’s apartment?”

His head snapped to her. “What? I’m not.”

“Oooooh, Sam.” Zabe wiggled her eyebrows. “Do you want to kiss Luna?” The kid shut her eyes, squeezing her mouth to form kissy lips before giggling.

“No. Knock it off.” He brought the bill of his hat lower. Besides he had kissed her, or rather she’d kissed him, and the whole thing had been a tease. It had been over before it began. He didn’t even get to reciprocate or revel in the feel and taste of her lips or pull her body flush with his and run his fingers through the silky locks at the nape of her neck—

Not that he had thought too much about it or wanted to kiss her which, of course, he didn’t. The whole thing was a pointless exercise of imagination.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. She doesn’t like me,” he said after a moment.

“Why wouldn’t she like you?” Zabe was at a complete loss. This was unsurprising considering she got along with everyone. “Is it because you said she’s annoying?”

“I never said that.” Lunawasannoying. But Sam had never said the word aloud and, therefore, he was allowed to defend himself against such an outrageous accusation. She had merely guessed his opinion and it happened to have been the correct one. But that wasn’t the same thing at all.

“My dad says you shouldn’t assume anything. Maybe this is a situation where she thinks you don’t like her, and you think she doesn’t like you, but in the end you’re both wrong. I don’t know. I’m just an eight-year-old kid. What do I know about this stuff?”

This did make him stop to process her words, but he soon shook his head. “Even if I did like her, I wouldn’t know what to do about it.”

Sam’s past relationships were not ones he considered to be serious or long-term. Most of them had started when he and his brother had gone drinking at local parties. Liquid courage, Nate’s help, and his own horniness had been the primary forces in jump-starting those relationships. It was all different now, and he had no interest in attempting to revive a horny, reckless version of his past self.

Zabe raised one confused eyebrow. “When I like a girl at school, I learn what she likes. But again, I’m eight. You’re an adult. You shouldn’t have to learn this from me.”

Sam continued thinking on the issue after she departed to go shopping with her dad. He sat in one of the patio chairs and pondered all of it, before jumping up to pace. He took another seat, worried his hands together before springing from his chair again. He couldn’t decide between pacing or sitting or doing anything at all.

Lacing his fingers over his head, his eyes rose to apartment seven.

Forget it.

Time to return to his own place or at least do something else. Zabe was right. She was eight years old. What did she know? Figuring Luna out wasn’t going to be that simple. He knew she preferred nice things, which already put him out of his depth.

As soon as he hit his apartment doormat, he whipped off his hat, ran his hands through his hair before plunking the cap low on his head.Hell with it.Flipping around he smacked into a warm body.

“Oof! See? This is why wearing that thing is a hazard,” Luna said.

“Sorry. Did I hurt you?” He wanted to touch her, make sure she was okay from their collision, but he resisted. Her appearing like a wish fulfilled was enough. She was dressed in shorts and a bright pink crop top but wore a pair of black Converse, putting her height at perfect. She had to tilt her chin to make eye contact with him or, if he stepped closer, her head would fit snugly along his neck and his arms could wrap themselves around the warm band of skin shown above her waistband.

He licked his dry lips. “Did you need something?”

“Actually, I do. I picked up an old mirror that I want to take apart so I can repaint and reuse the frame but the latches holding the mirror to the frame are giving me issues. I’m afraid I might break the mirror and get glass everywhere.” She paused here as if her request was obvious to anyone and didn’t require any further explanation.

Silence seemed to be the best response when it came to dealing with her, and his mouth remained shut, his eyes fixed, not jumping in to ease her ego.

After a moment her eyes dropped while she adjusted one of her black bra straps that had slipped from her shoulder. He couldn’t stop his gaze from tracking the movement. “I thought maybe you might be able to pry the backing off for me. Can you help me? Please?”

Sam swallowed before replying, “Okay.”

“The patio furniture is a nice addition,” she said as they walked past.

He waited for follow-up critique, where she’d comment on the age of the furniture or mention the faded fabric. Her restraint in saying neither was an impressive feat. It allowed an added boost to his effort and maybe walking through a million cobwebs had been worth it—not that it mattered because, again, he had done it for Nicholas, not Luna.

But the feeling of pride was nothing compared to when he faced her kitchen. Sure, he’d been there when they had finished painting late last weekend, but she had added new handles to all the cabinets and there wasn’t painter’s tape and plastic everywhere. Even with the older black appliances, the kitchen had transformed into something belonging to an apartment going for twice the rental amount. According to him, it was a pretty nice sanctuary.

The mirror was on her table, placed in the middle of a laid-out newspaper. One latch was slightly lifted, showing where she had made some effort herself.

“You don’t want the mirror part?” He took her flathead screwdriver in hand, wedging it under a latch. With brute strength he was able to pop the metal backing.

“No, it has a crack in it already and it’s all mottled looking. It’s basically trash, but the frame is in decent shape and unique. I picked it up from one of the antique stores in Old Town for three dollars. I’m going to repaint the frame bright red as wall decor for Mia’s nursery.”

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