I slipped into my happy mode like muscle memory. Sometimes it felt easier to wear joy like a lightweight mask until, slowly, it stopped feeling like pretending at all. I’ve always been my own medicine. My own antidote to the gloom. Fake it till you make it or whatever.
For a while, they debated next year’s destination. I heard France, Morocco, New Zealand, even Kazakhstan. I offered Ireland.
“It rains a lot, though,” I warned them.
“Some of the best things can happen in the rain.” Luke’s eyes dropped to my mouth. I was suddenly hyperaware of his body near mine. “Will you come with us?” he asked, taking me by surprise.
“I don’t know Irish.”
“You have time to learn.”
“You could learn, too. Besides, most of the country speaks English. You don’t need me.”
A heavy sigh escaped him as he shook his head lightly and raised a wineglass to his mouth. Annoyed or conflicted—I couldn’t tell. He would forget about me soon enough anyway.
Luke stretched his arm behind the back of my chair, lightly twirling the end of my hairlock in his fingers. He gently wrapped it to the root, and my head lightly moved into his palm to exert more pressure. I closed my eyes, becoming the representation of my own bobblehead. Luke turned to me with a soft gaze and gave the sweetest smile.
“Are you already drunk, sweetheart?”
“Mmm, no,” I murmured, clearly lying, still moving into his palm. He pressed harder into my neck, circling his thumb, and I hummed. Instantly, I was back in the memory of his strong hands digging into my thighs. I felt the heat rush downward, pooling low in my belly as my body remembered him just as vividly as my mind did.
“Don’t blush yet, little bee. Save some for later tonight.” I opened my eyes and let my head rest against his shoulder.
The evening melted into a warm night, purple haze splashing through the whole sky. A gentle warmth spread through me as the wine-tasting shifted into live music, a band playing in the corner, people dancing, locals drifting in and out. A perfect ending to this trip.
I made my way to the bar, sweat clinging to my skin from the heat. I ordered water and leaned against the bar, watching the dance floor. Luke was dancing with Ava. He looked unusually happy, without the aggressive flirting I was so used to seeing. A different side of him. A side I was falling in love with.
“Have you seen Ava?” From the left, Alex approached.
“Yeah, Luke stole her,” I said, nodding toward them. “You probably have nothing to worry about. You and Ava look way better together.”
“Thanks,” he laughed. “I’d be devastated if I lost pancake Sundays. And, you know, the love of my life.”
I chuckled.
“They’re two of my favorite people in the whole world, though.”
I smiled at his confession.
“It’s nice to see Ava actually relax. She doesn’t like to brag, but she works so hard, hasn’t taken a vacation in years.”
“She looks radiant. The proposal probably helped,” I stated the obvious.
“I hope so.”
“Besides, who wouldn’t be happier after a two-week vacation on a beach. Even Luke is.”
Alex sighed. “Luke’s just emotionally bankrupt. He says he’s happy back home, but we all know how people can hide things. He’ll get back on his feet soon. I have a feeling.”
He hesitated before continuing. “You know, when I first started dating Ava, she wanted me to meet her parents, but I was broke and terrified they wouldn’t approve. So, I convinced Luke to pretend to be my chauffeur.” I chuckled at an image of Luke in a Boonie hat, calling AlexMister Harvingand polishing his shoes.
“It took Ava a while to figure out that the guy driving me around and coming to game nights wasn’t actually my chauffeur. Totally worked on her parents, though.”
My laughter grew, and Alex bumped my shoulder. “He’s a good guy.”
A heaviness settled in my chest. They all kept trying to hype him up for me as if I didn’t already know how great he was. Like I wasn’t steering straight for the iceberg on purpose.
Alex moved toward them, reclaiming his fiancée. Luke let Ava go easily and scanned the crowd. I grinned just before his eyes landed on me. Sweat clung to him from dancing, a shirt button undone, showing a hint of chest hair. I was so caught up that I didn’t even notice he was already approaching.
