Page 106 of Trustfall

And then a deep male voice. “Woah, woah. I didn’t know you had the ability to hug.”

I walk out into the hallway to see Allie embracing Luke. I stay there for a minute as she lets him go. “Don’t ever fucking pull that shit again,” she says, slapping his chest as he lets out a quiet laugh.

He looks up and notices me. Allie turns and sees me too. She gives me a knowing look and turns to walk back to her room. I filled her in on everything that happened with my dad and Jaxon, but I left out the part about how Luke got Jaxon to meet with him the other night. Somehow, in all of the commotion, she and Nate didn’t even think to ask.

As soon as Allie is gone, Luke immediately eats up the distance between us. It happens so fast. One minute he’s at the front door, the next his hands are circling my waist and he’s lifting me up. My arms instinctively fall over his shoulders and my legs wrap around him. He walks me back into my bedroom and we stay like that for minutes. Just breathing each other in. I don’t want to let go, but the longer I hold him, the more it’s going to hurt when I do. I force myself to loosen my grip and he slowly lowers me back down to the floor, bending down so his forehead falls against mine. I move back and look up at him. Two glittering blue pools stare back at me. I place my hand on his chest, soaking up the feel of his heart beating wildly against it.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Em,” he finally says.

I turn my head away and take a step back, moving my hand from his chest. He knows I know.

“Em…look at me.” But I don’t.

“Emory,” he tries again. “Fucking look at me.” His voice cracks, and I see a tear fall from his face.

“When did you decide to do it?” I ask.

I glance at him briefly to see confusion written all over his face.

“When did you decide to go through my phone and pretend to be me? Was it when I was pouring out my soul to you? Was it when you were inside me? Or when you held me in your arms after?”

“Emory.”

“When was it, Luke?” I yell.

“After,” he admits. “When I was holding you.”

“You know what the worst part is?” I ask. “If you had just been honest with me…if you had told me you wanted to confront him, I would have gone with you. I would have driven the fucking getaway car.”

Luke lets out a strained sigh. “But you didn’t treat me like an equal. You treated me like a weak little girl. You not only invaded my privacy; you broke my trust. After you promised to guard it with your life.”

I hurl every single one of my words at him like I’m throwing dishes at his head.

“I know.” He takes a step toward me, but I back up.

“It wasn’t just that you went through my phone. You did exactly what Nate did. You took the choice away from me.”

“Emory. I’m so sorry. You’re right. I should have talked to you. I wasn’t thinking. I was just so angry. But you have to know that the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I lo?—”

“Don’t,” I grit out. “Don’t you dare say that to me right now.” I walk over to my nightstand and grab my phone, throwing it in the bag sitting on my desk with more force than needed. “You know, Jaxon was always sweet and apologetic after he did something terrible. It would only last a few hours before he was back to coming up with new ways to torture me.”

He winces and I know it’s not fair to compare him to Jaxon. He doesn’t deserve it, but I’m angry and I have to protect myself. Still, I regret it the moment it leaves my mouth.

“Emory…”

His control is slipping. His famous patience is wearing thin, but I don’t care. I won’t let him back in. I shake my head and turn around, but his voice stops me.

“What did you expect, Emory? That I was going to sit there and listen to all the ways he tried to break you and do nothing about it?”

“Just—stop, Luke. I need to think, and I can’t do that with you here. I need time.”

He shakes his head, letting out a long breath and pinching the tip of his nose with his fingers.

“You want to know how I knew your middle name?”

The sudden change of subject gives me whiplash, but I don’t let on, keeping my face as stoic as I can manage.

“You used to write your full name on the inside covers of your books. I bet you still do it.” He looks around the room and spots the book I’m currently reading on my nightstand. He opens the cover and sure enough, ‘Emory Grace Caldwell’ is scribbled on the back. I don’t know why I do it. It was a habit I picked up when I was younger, in case I ever lost one of my favorites.

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