If he wants to.
I consider doing an exercise video, but decide I’m past the stage where exercise will make me feel better. Instead, I watch a teen romantic comedy about a nerdy girl who saves the football team captain from drowning in a backyard pool. To show his gratitude, he asks her to the prom, and she gets a makeover that turns her into a beauty queen. Needless to say, they fall madly in love and live happily ever after.
It’s a completely ridiculous movie, but it kills almost two hours. When it ends, I click on Netflix’s next recommendation, another teen rom com with a similar storyline. This one doesn’t hold my attention, though, and at ten P.M., I turn off the TV and go to bed.
Before I set my phone on my bedside table, I check it one last time. Still no messages from Luke.
When my phone finally rings, it pulls me out of a deep sleep, and at first I wonder if it’s part of a dream. It takes me a minute to wake up, and by the time I find my phone, the call’s gone to voicemail.
It’s two thirty-seven A.M., and the missed call’s from Luke. I swipe the screen to call him back.
“I’m at your door,” he says, and the urgency in his voice brings me fully awake. “Can I come in, Milly?”
“Yeah. Yeah, just a minute.”
I pad downstairs, flicking on lights as I go, and unlock the front door. The next thing I know, Luke’s arms are around me in a crushing hug. It feels like he’s trying to pull me into himself, and I never want it to end. I can feel his chest move as he breathes, deep shuddering breaths like an athlete would take at the end of a race. Or like a man who’s found something precious after fearing it had been lost.
He holds me for a moment without speaking, and I soak up the feel of him. The day’s worth of stubble on his chin that feels rough and wonderful against my cheek. The familiar scent of his cologne.
“Milly,” he finally says, loosening his hold a little so he can look at me. His hair’s a mess, and his hazel eyes are bruised with fatigue. He looks utterly wrecked and utterly gorgeous.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, pulling me close again. “I had to see you.”
“It’s okay,” I murmur into his chest.
He holds me for another moment before he explains.
“I just operated on a young woman who’d been in a car crash,” he tells me. “She was only thirty-one, Melissa. She was in rough shape when they brought her in, and the paramedics had pretty much prepared her husband for the worst.”
He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Anyway, she was too unstable for the CT scanner, so we took her straight to the OR. Turned out all the bleeding was from the spleen, and once I took that out, she stabilized pretty fast. She’s in the ICU, but she should do well.”
“God, Luke,” I murmur into his chest. I can only imagine how stressful it must be, knowing someone’s life depends on your skill. And then the high afterward, of knowing you fought death and won.
“Yeah. But then I went to talk to her husband, and the look on his face . . . the surgery went faster than expected, so he thought . . . he thought I was coming to tell him she didn’t make it. That I couldn’t save her. And Melissa . . .”
He pauses, and I feel a shiver run through his body.
“It’s okay, Luke,” I say gently. “She’s going to be fine. You just said so.” Between his own call shifts and covering for Ethan, he’s been working far too hard this week, and it’s no surprise it’s catching up to him. He’s almost beyond himself. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I realize the front door’s still standing open, so I push it closed and turn the lock. As soon as that’s done, Luke pulls me back into his arms. As though he doesn’t want to let me go, even for the time it’ll take to climb the stairs to my bedroom.
“You saved her, Luke,” I murmur. “Take off your jacket and let’s go to bed.”
Luke shucks off his jacket and toes off his shoes, and we walk upstairs together. He doesn’t bother to take off his clothes, just slips under the covers next to me and tucks my body in next to his. We’re lying on our sides, my back pressed tightly against his front.
Within minutes, Luke’s breathing slows, and I sense he’s almost asleep. He mumbles something inarticulate, and his leg hitches over my hip. He’s got me trapped beneath his arm and leg, and there’s no way I could move without waking him up.
But I never want to move again. It’s a delicious feeling, being surrounded by Luke Carlton.
And as I lie in his arms, listening to the peaceful sound of his breathing, I curse fate.
Because I’m afraid I’m going to have to give him up.
THIRTY-THREE
LUKE
The ringing of my phone wakes me up, and I realize I’m on top of Melissa. Half on top of her, at least—I’ve got her pinned under my arm and leg—and I roll to the side, a little embarrassed. I’m a lot heavier than she is, so that can’t have been comfortable.
