“That was…” Luke begins beside me, and I tilt my head to look at him.
“Yeah.”
There’s a tiny crease in his brow as he assesses me. “Better than John Stamos?”
I choke on a laugh. “Better thananything.”
His eyes smolder in agreement, and I have to fight the urge to climb onto his lap and beg him to take me again.
I wrench my gaze away, my mind spinning. It’s slowly dawning on me that us having sex again might not have been the best idea. When I hazard another glance at Luke, I see the same realization on his face—in his gaze, in the way he’s worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. That beautiful bottom lip.
I can’t help myself. I reach over, stroking my thumb over his lip, his cheek, his jaw. He closes his eyes, pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist, and my heart twists.
Fuck.
We didn’t defuse the bomb. We just lit the fuse.
24
Iset my phone down on the table in front of me and secure my earphones, tilting the screen up so the front camera catches my face. I got out of Luke’s place quickly, making a lame excuse about being tired. I’m pretty sure he saw through that, though. He saw me for the scared little liar I really am.
But I need to process everything. I convinced myself that having sex with Luke would somehow get it out of my system, but how bloody delusional am I? The more I think about it, the more I realize thereisno getting Luke out of my system. And the more I think aboutthat, the more I panic.
So I caught a cab home to the Village, stopping in at Beanie to call Steph. She’s the only person I can speak to about this. My stomach is swirling as I press her name in my contacts, and when the call connects, relief engulfs me.
“Oh my God, your hair!” Steph gapes at me through the screen on my phone. I haven’t spoken to her properly since our last call and I miss her like mad. Seeing her now, I feel myself begin to relax. She’ll help me figure this Luke stuff out.
“You like it?” I turn my head, showing off my red locks for her.
“I love it! I can’t believe you dyed your hair. A week and a half ago you were worried about wearing red lipstick. And now…”
A grin creeps onto my lips. “That’s not the only new thing I’ve done; I went on a trapeze the other day.” I’m tempted to tell her about John Stamos, but that might be too much.
“Atrapeze!?” Her eyes widen with shock. “Harriet George! What the hell has happened to you?”
I chuckle, amused by her response. I guess she has a point; two weeks ago if you’d told me I would be saying these things, I wouldn’t have believed you for a second.
“Honestly, Harri. I know you said you were going to be more adventurous, but this is next level. Dying your hair bright red, going on a trapeze—not to mention sex in an airplane bathroom. Ooh, speaking of, are you getting on alright with the best man?”
Heat rises up my neck as I examine my cup of tea. “Erm, yeah. We’re getting onreallywell.”
“What doesthatmean?”
“It means…” I take a long sip of tea, bursting with my need to tell her everything. “It means I, um, slept with him again.”
“What?”
I set my cup down, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot. “I know. It just sort of happened.”
“Wow.” Steph arches an eyebrow and I grimace, thinking back to our last conversation.
“I know I said I wouldn’t, but—”
“Don’t ruin this for yourself,” Steph says, holding up a hand. She knows me too well. “You’re only human. Besides, I’m loving this wild new Harriet!”
This time I can’t hold in my grin. “Me too.”
“Was it as good as last time?”
