He leads me to the dining table. “Is here okay?”
I glance at the perfectly white, glossy table, seated atop a perfectly white, plush rug. I guess this spot is as good as any.
“Sure. Thanks.” I take a seat and unload my supplies, focusing on setting up. I haven’t done any hand-lettering in a while, so I’m going to need to do a few practice rounds first.
“Can I get you a drink?” Luke offers as he wanders into the kitchen.
“That would be great.” I busy myself unscrewing the lid to the India ink and setting it down, then doing some practice strokes on the paper.
“Whiskey?” he asks, and there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. I ignore it.
“Sure.” Except, it’s been several hours since I last ate and drinking whiskey on an empty stomach, while alone in this apartment with him, is probably not such a good idea. “Actually…” I swivel around in my chair and he pauses mid-pour.
“Everything okay?”
“Well, I haven’t eaten, so I probably shouldn’t—”
“Me neither. Want to order something?”
I hesitate. Eating dinner here with him seems, I don’t know, intimate somehow. But my stomach rumbles as if on cue, and I nod. “Yeah.”
“Do you like Thai food?” Luke pulls a menu from a drawer and hands it over.
“Sure.” I run my eyes over the list, then hand it back, pointing to chicken Pad Thai.
“Is that all? Come on, you want more than that.”
“Well…” I nibble my lip and he laughs.
“I’ll order that and a bunch of other stuff. Trust me, it’s good.”
“Okay.” I smile and turn back to my lettering.
He orders the food then brings me my whiskey, peering over my shoulder. “Wow, that’s really cool.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. “I haven’t done it in ages. I’m a bit rusty.”
“Really? I think it looks great.”
I try to hide my smile, hoping he can’t see it from where he’s standing behind me.
“Are you sure you’ll get them all done tonight?”
“Yep.” I dip my pen back in the ink then stop, hyper-aware of the way he’s hovering. I turn and throw him a pointed look.
“What?”
“I can’t do it with you right there!”
“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to it.” He laughs and wanders over to the sofa, hitting the button to reveal the TV. Then he sets his whiskey down and pulls out one of the game controllers, slipping on his headset and loading up a game.
I smile to myself as I feel my body relax. For some reason, things are feeling easy between us tonight and I’m relieved. If I could get my attraction to him under control, things might even be good. And I can do that; attraction is nothing more than a chemical response in the brain that I can just ignore. I’m a grown woman with self-control, for Christ’s sake. I’ll simply… stop being attracted to him. Easy.
I manage to get a whole bunch of the cards done before dinner arrives. The first couple are a little wonky, but by the end they’re looking good. Luke is so involved in his game he doesn’t notice the door buzz. I have to call out to him to get his attention.
“Sorry.” He removes his headset with a chuckle. Then he flicks the screen off, the TV sliding out of view. I reach for my bag to hand him some money but he shakes his head. “It’s on me,” he says as he lopes to the door. He returns a moment later and when I go to clear the table, he gestures to the sofa, so we settle in there with the food.
And he’s right; it is good. I eat quickly, washing it down with my whiskey, and he pours me another one.
