He looks around, and then suddenly his blue eyes are on mine, invading my space and my soul. I feel self-conscious from his piercing stare, but no part of me wants to break free from it, either.
“Is your mom here?” Luke asks, in a tone both soft and strong. Feeling weak, I tighten the grip on my torso for support.
“No, she went…”
Before I can finish my sentence, Luke is up the entryway step, kissing me.
Hard.
His palms are on either side of my face, and the few feet that were between us have shrunk to inches. One inch, maybe.
I drop my arms in surrender, then slowly wind them around this boy before me, tight and then tighter still. Luke kicks shut the front door behind him, lips still locked on mine, and we kiss each other like one of us is dying.
“I can’t stay away from you,” he whispers when he finally takes a break to breathe. He’s staring directly into my eyes with his forehead pressed against mine, and his hands are still holding tight to my face, as if to keep me there and ensure that I look at him right back.
To ensure that I see him. And, boy, do I.
His eyes look pained yet determined. I can see in them that he’s not letting go, and I know for sure now that I don’t want him to, either.
“Don’t stay away from me, then,” I whisper back, placing my hands gently over his and lowering them to my neck and then my sides. The movement relaxes him a little, and I can tell that his angst is waning.
“Do you forgive me, London?” Luke asks, his eyes still cutting into me.
“Yes, I do,” I say truthfully.
Yes, he lied to me. But he loves me, and I love him, and people make mistakes. I can’t see him in my future to know for sure, but I believe he’ll learn from this. He seems to be that type of person.
Luke is kissing me again now, softer this time. I try to think of nothing and just enjoy the moment, but I can’t help but wonder when my mom will return.
The house shifts, and I jump away from Luke like we’ve been caught.
“What?” he asks, looking around.
“Nothing,” I say, peeking behind me just to make sure. “I just thought my mom was back.”
“Maybe I should go?”
“No!” I say, so forcefully that he laughs. “No,” I say again softer, this time moving two steps toward him and taking his right hand in mine. “Stay for a little while.”
I’m embarrassed and excited at the same time, and there must have been a suggestive edge to my words, because now Luke blushes a little.
“Do you want to go upstairs?” he asks, squeezing my hand tighter.
“Yes, but…”
“But what?” he asks, bending a little to look curiously into my face.
At a loss for a gentler response, I just come out with it.
“But we’re not doing…”
“Doing what? You mean that? Sex?”
He’s still staring right at me as he says it, and now I’m the one turning red and feeling childish for even mentioning it.
“Yes, that’s what I mean.”
“I didn’t think we were going to,” he says, eyes holding steady. How is he so cool right now? Has he had this conversation a million times before? I’m about to respond when he interrupts me by adding, “At least not tonight.”