“Oh, come on. An evening at the orchestra with some poor girl as your mother’s hostage can’t have been that bad.”
Lukas took a sip of his beer, and I found myself mesmerized by the way his throat moved when he swallowed.
“Zero out of ten, do not recommend. The poor girl tried to hold my hand like ten different times. I finally had to shove my hands under my thighs for her to get the point. When my mother made me walk her to the door after, you know, like a gentleman would do, I told her that my mom was still in denial about the fact that I was super gay. I wasn’t out yet, but I think she knew.”
“Was your date mad?”
“Relieved.” I took a sip of my drink. “She thought for sure something was wrong with her. See, her mom wanted her to get close to me as much as my mom wanted me to get close to her. Hence the reason she tried to hold my hand.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen. I didn’t want to be at the orchestra with a girl. It wasn’t like I had a rip-roaring social life, but there were a million places I’d rather have been.”
“You said you have a brother, right? Do you see each other often?”
“No. We speak when we have to. My brother is the kid my parents wanted. Smart. Straight. Successful. Doctor. We’re not close.”
“I used to dream of having a brother when I was a kid.”
The band introduced themselves, and the drummer made eye contact with Lukas, who raised his beer at him like a one-sided toast.
“That’s Perry on the drums.”
“Perry? Is that his real name or his stage name?”
Lukas met my gaze, his eyes sparkling with humor as he leaned closer to me, probably so he could be heard over the sudden swell of music. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
Feeling a little bold, I managed to work up the nerve to put my hand on his knee under the table. I leaned in even closer. Close enough to smell the hint of beer on his breath.
“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to threaten to kill someone on the first date.”
“Right, right. Sorry.” Lukas smirked at me. “That’s second date material. I got ahead of myself. It won’t happen again.”
We were close enough to kiss now, but I didn’t close the distance. I wanted to savor all the little pockets of anticipation that rose up in me like bubbles of happiness. I knew Lukas wanted to kiss me—I could see it in the way he kept looking down at my mouth, then back up again. The fact that we wanted to kiss each other made it worth waiting for. There was no rush. No hurry. Lukas wanted to go slow which oddly took the pressure off.
Our conversation paused as our food arrived. When we were left alone with our drinks and our burgers, Lukas looked at me and asked, “so, what’s your favorite song?”
“Why?”
“Curious.”
“Well, I usually have several favorite songs, but right now it’sthoughts I have while lying in bedby The Maine.” The name of the song almost made me keep it a secret, but I’d tell Lukas anything.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and shot off a quick text before tucking it away again.
“What was that about?”
Lukas grabbed a fry off his plate and popped it in his mouth. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, acting innocent.
Reaching over, I stole a fry off of Lukas’s plate and bit it in half. “I’m watching you.”
His eyes darkened. “Promise?”
Heat flared in me, unexpected and sharp, and suddenly taking things slow sounded like a terrible idea.
An impossible idea.
TWENTY
