ANNA
Luke Fisher just kissed me.Luke. Fisher. Just. Kissed. Me. Let’s try that again. LukeFisherKissedMe. Luke. Freaking. Fisher. Kissed. Me. Me!
Fast or slow—it still made no sense. Did the laws of reality just glitch?
Sure, technically, it was for show, to throw off the mean girls—a little fake-out to make me feel better.
Except it didn’t feel fake. At all.
Maybe he’s just that good of an actor. Yeah, that’s it. He’s so talented that even his fake kisses deserve an award. And now, here I am, unable to stop replaying it in my head.
I’ll let you in on a secret. I’d watched him kiss women on screen. Countless times. And yes, I’d imagined what it might be like, purely out of curiosity. But here’s the truth: reality blew imagination out of the water.
As we drove back, my mind raced. Chief among the emotions was a touch of smugness at the jealousy on the faces of Reagan and Chatterly. Sure, they didn’t know I’d kissed Luke Fisher.
They thought it was some black, curly-haired champagne baron.
Well, they could sit there with their fake smiles and passive-aggressive comments, but little did they know I was the one who’d just locked lips with a bona fide movie star.
I was mid-smirk when Luke’s voice pulled me back.
“You’re a great storyteller,” he said, almost like he’d just realized it himself. “The way you talk about things—people, places, whatever—it’s like you’ve got this gift of making everything sound alive. Like, when you were describing the baroness earlier, I could almost see her. Most people don’t have that. It’s natural for you.”
A warmth settled in my chest. It didn’t feel like one of those polite, throwaway compliments people give to fill silence.
I needed to say something—anything—to stop replaying that kiss in my head. “Thanks for stepping in back there,” I said. “Every time I run into those women, it’s like I’m sixteen again. Braces, insecurity, the whole awkward package. Ugh, listen to me. You probably have no idea what that’s like.”
Luke laughed, shaking his head. “Are you kidding? I was a total nerd in high school. Scrawny, constantly tripping over my own feet. I was invisible.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he said, grinning. “Then I shot up six inches the summer after graduation, joined the crew team at Brown, and suddenly people started looking at me differently. Still felt like the same dork inside, though.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the corners of his mouth turning up with a sheepish smile.
I raised an eyebrow. Was he saying that to make me feel better? His sincerity seemed real. “Guess we both had our moments, then.”
There was a brief silence before Luke said, “Speaking of the past, who was that Beau guy your old classmate mentioned?”
I smiled wryly. “Let me paint you a picture. Think high school rom-com. He was dripping in money and popularity. Me? I was the nerdy scholarship girl. At some point, he took off my glasses. Metaphorically. I don’t wear glasses. He realized I didn’t look so ugly after all. But plot twist. He still ended up with the popular high-society girl. And now they’re getting married. End of movie. Roll credits. Cue sad trombone.”
Luke held my gaze. “I don’t think I’d watch that movie.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t a blockbuster experience from my end either.”
I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to dredge up the past, but Luke’s kind expression nudged me forward. “Those girls are the worst. In eighth grade, I got a scholarship to Collegiate. It’s this fancy prep school in New Orleans, and I thought it was my big break. Before school started, my Aunt Delores gave me some money to buy new clothes, and I found this Jill Stuart dress at the Junior League thrift store. It had a tiny tear, but she fixed it, and I thought I looked perfect.”
Luke’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.
“First day of school, I showed up in that dress, thinking I’d nailed it. But the kids there weren’t wearing fancy clothes. They were in jean shorts and T-shirts. One girl was even in pajama bottoms. I stuck out like a sore thumb.” I laughed weakly, trying to downplay it. “And then Reagan happened.”
“Reagan?” Luke murmured.
“She was one of the queen bees. She spotted me, smiled, and said she loved my dress. I believed her for a second.” I swallowed hard, memories choking my throat. “Then she told me it used to be hers… until she donated it because of the tear. She pointed out the mend on the sleeve and laughed in my face. Everyone laughed.” I forced a smile, trying to shake off the lingering sting. “It was humiliating. I was wearing her cast-off trash.”
Luke’s jaw tightened. “Kids can be brutal.”
I nodded. “Yeah. After that, I just kept my head down and focused on school. I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to notice me. Then, in junior year, I started spending more time with Beau. He was my debate partner. Rich, charming, popular. Somehow, he noticed me, and for a while, I thought maybe I belonged.” I sighed. “Now he’s engaged to Reagan.”
Luke’s voice was gentle. “And seeing her today brought it all back?”
