Since we spoke.
I haven’t heard from him, and I’ve been too busy to visit the bar. Work has picked up and the long hours I’ve pulled over the last two days have almost kicked my ass. It’s only 9:00 p.m. and I’m ready for sleep.
My phone rings and I flick the television off and move from the couch to rummage in my bag for it.
“Why haven’t I seen you for two days?” Avery demands when I answer her call.
I sigh. “I’ve been busy at work, and I’m exhausted. Twelve hour days aren’t my calling in life.”
“You know what’s not my calling in life?”
“What?” I’m not too tired to pick up on the sarcasm dripping from her words.
“Dealing with a cranky, moody Luke Hardy, that’s what.”
Oh.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Fucked if I know, babe. He came back to the bar after he took you home the other night and he was really quiet, and then the next day his moods began. My guess is something happened after he dropped you home, but I’m not game to ask him.”
My breathing slows as I process her words.
I can’t do this. Not yet.
What did he mean when he said that?
“He kissed me,” I admit quietly. If it had turned out differently between us, I would be shouting it from the rooftops.
“Holy shit! And what? That’s all?”
“Yes, that’s all. But it was the best kiss I’ve ever had.” I linger in my memories, not wanting to believe they’re all I’ll ever have from him.
“Wait, back this up because I don’t understand how this all went down. Tell me from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.” I can imagine her settling back on her couch for the full story.
“There’s not much to tell. He kissed me, it was amazing, and then he stopped kissing me and said something about not being able to do this yet. And before you ask, I have no clue what he meant because he left without giving me a chance to ask.”
“Holy shit!” she exclaims again. “I think it’s about time we did some digging into Luke Hardy. We’ve let him evade all our questions over the last year, but this calls for some investigating. We need to know everything there is to know about him.”
“God, no! Don’t you go there, Avery.” I know she won’t listen to me, though. When Avery decides to do something, nothing can stop her.
“You can’t throw me something like that and expect it to be enough.”
I slump back onto my couch. This is bad. “I don’t want any part of it.”
Her mind is already three steps ahead of mine. “Leave it with me.” I can practically hear her mind ticking over as she speaks.
I’m about to beg her not to pursue this when someone bangs on my front door. “I’ve gotta go. There’s someone knocking on my door.”
“All good. You go,” she says, dismissing me, and I know I have no chance of changing her mind.
We say goodbye and finish the call as I drag myself off the couch so I can answer the door. I’m almost relieved someone is here because they saved me from Avery, but I’ve no idea who would be visiting me at this time of night.
Whoever it is bangs harder on the door. So impatient.
“I’m coming!” I yell out, and the banging stops.
I yank the door open, ready to give them a piece of my mind but freeze when I see who it is.
Luke.
His dishevelled appearance is in stark contrast to the cool, controlled Luke I know. He stares at me through anguished eyes, and all the hurt and confusion that has been churning in me over the past couple of days dissipates. The man standing in front of me looks broken, and all I want to do is pull him close and wrap my arms around him.
“Hi,” I greet him a little awkwardly while my mind goes to war over hugging him.
He doesn’t reply, but rather simply stands there, staring at me as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
And then—“I’m married.” His voice cracks on the two words a woman never wants to hear, and where I should be pissed off at his confession, I know deep in my gut that there’s more to this.
I’m not sure what to say, so I say nothing.
“Her name is Jolene…” He stumbles over her name as if it’s the last word he wants to escape from his lips. I sense his distaste and instantly dislike Jolene while wondering what she did to him to make him feel this way.
The silence swirls around us and the winter chill of the July night cuts through to my bones. Or maybe it’s the thought that a married man kissed me two nights ago, and all I can think about is kissing him again. And even though it’s wrong and I’ve always sworn I’d never get involved with a married man, it feels so damn right, and that scares the hell out of me.
I remain silent, waiting for him to say the words that could make this all right.
We’re separated.