Nope.I quickly catch myself. It doesn’t matter that he’s being cute, that he likes all the same stuff I like, that he’s the only guy who’s made me orgasm.He’sthe reason I have to spend the next two weeks lying to my sister.
He holds out a can of Coke and I take it with a sigh. “I… like your apartment,” I mumble, at a loss for what else to say. Although if I’m honest, I don’t love the ultra-modern, shiny look. With the white carpet and walls, and the gleaming surfaces and LED lighting, everything feels kind of sterile. I prefer wood and soft fabrics, warm yellow lighting and squishy sofas you can sink into, somewhere to drink red wine without feeling like you might destroy everything in sight if you’re not careful. I glance at his angular white leather sofa. It doesn’t look like it’s even meant for sitting on.
Luke cocks his head to one side. “Really? I can’t stand it.”
“What?”
“Well,” he says, dropping down onto the sofa, “it’s not really decorated to my taste.”
I gingerly lower myself beside him, letting my eyes drift over the decor again. This must be Dena’s taste, then.
“Apart from the TV,” he adds with a grin. He reaches for a remote and presses a button. A gleaming white wall panel slides aside to reveal a giant screen and a cabinet with several gaming consoles.
I have to laugh. “You’re big on gaming.” Though after seeing his bookshelves, it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.
He chuckles. “It’s part of my job.”
“Right,” I say, turning to face him on the couch, being careful not to somehow rip the leather. Knowing me, I’ll probably slash a hole in it with my keys and end up owing him thousands. “What do you do, exactly?”
He draws a breath, eying me. “Do you really want to know?”
I frown, puzzled by his hesitation. “Well, I did. Now I’m not so sure.” An awkward laugh escapes me, then I feel all the blood drain from my face. “Oh, God. It’s not something to do with porn, is it?” I screw my nose up, recoiling. Come to think of it, he did say he works “in entertainment”—everyone knows that’s code for porn. Why is that only occurring to me now?
He barks out a loud laugh, taking me by surprise. When I don’t laugh with him, his face twists in horror. “You’re not serious?”
I shrug, my eyes darting around the apartment looking for… I don’t know, video cameras? Whips? Economy-sized bottles of lube?
“Jesus. No, Harriet.”
“Okay. Good.” I laugh with relief. “Then in that case, yes, tell me what you do.”
“It’s not going to sound all that exciting now,” he says wryly. “I create video games. We released a game on PC earlier this year, and soon we’re putting out a console version.”
“Wow, that’s so cool!” I crack open my can of Coke. “You’re not working today?”
“No, I’m off for a couple weeks with the wedding coming up.”
“Work doesn’t mind you taking all that time off?”
“One of the perks of being your own boss, I guess.”
I pause, my drink halfway to my mouth. “You’re the boss?” He nods, and I don’t know why, but that knowledge sends a little thrill through me. “It must pay very well.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I cringe. I know it’s not classy to talk about that stuff.
He shrugs, leaning back on the sofa. “We’re doing alright. I’ve only been at it a few years. I bought this place back when I was in software development and making a lot more.”
Well, that makes sense. You can make loads doing that sort of stuff, can’t you?
“I was going to redecorate when—” he breaks off, glancing at me. “Anyway, I just haven’t gotten around to it. It’s been like this for years.”
“I like the bookshelves.”
His eyes rest on mine for a second, as if trying to read me, then his mouth tugs into a lop-sided smile. “They’re a new addition.”
I adjust my glasses, glancing back at the shelves. “You just… went out and bought all that stuff?”
“No. Well, some of it. A lot of it had been in storage for years, and last month I just decided—fuck it. I live here alone now, I should be able to have my stuff out.”
I sip my drink, reading between the lines. Dena didn’t want him to have this stuff out. I mean, it doesn’t go with the rest of the space, but what kind of wife won’t let her husband have his possessions in his own home? Sympathy trickles through me and I push it away.
