Page 77 of Lost Love on 6th Street

“And we’ll get you some nice art. I know some people.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Is this my apartment or yours?”

Luke stops, then laughs at himself. “Sorry, I’m excited.”

I sidle up to him and take the bottle. “You’re allowed to be excited.”

His eyes stay on mine as I take another drink of champagne. Once I’ve swallowed, he asks, “Do you promise this is what you want?”

I thrust the bottle back into his hand. “I promise, Luke.”

“Not just because I coerced you or something,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

“You didn’t coerce me. I thought about it. Granted, I only had until the end of the day, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” I go to the window, lean on the frame, and look down at the street outside. “I’m not staying for you,” I say.

Luke clears his throat. “Right, of course you’re not.”

“Let me finish,” I go on, glancing back at him. “I’m not staying for you, but I’m not not staying for you. Does that make sense?”

Luke places the bottle of champagne down by my bag and takes a few steps closer to me. “I think so.”

“I want a career. I want to have a good job, and I don’t just want to be someone’s . . . someone.”

“You’d never be ‘just’ that,” he says.

I remain silent as Luke leans his body over mine, putting his forearm against the wall above my head. Damn, I love feeling small in his shadow. Protected and special.

“I trust you,” I say, touching the lapel of his jacket.

“Yeah?”

“I’m terrified, but I trust you.”

Luke tilts his head to one side, eyes softening. “You have no idea what that means to me.”

“You have to be careful with me.”

“I’d never dream of being any other way with you.”

“Tender, you know?”

Luke runs his thumb down my jaw. “Always.”

Though the moment between us is long and languid, my insides are spiraling out of control. I want him. I’ve wanted him and I’m ready for him to shuck off the gentleman and give me the full man he can be.

“I can’t make any promises,” I say. “About forever, or—”

“I’m not asking for that.”

I grab his jacket harder. “But I can promise to try my best to make it so.”

Luke’s lips part. His breath is shallow and strained.

“I can promise to try for forever,” I say. Maybe it’s too much. And if it is, it’s best we walk away right now. But I can’t deny how I’m feeling. The longer I spend with Luke, the more I can see him in my life for a long, long time.

Longer than long, maybe.

“If you walked out of my life right now,” Luke says, his voice gravelly and low, “the time we’ve had together would be more than I deserve.”

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