Page 68 of Trustfall

“Luke, please,” I call out as he turns to leave.

He looks back at me, but I still don’t know what to say. I just know that I don’t want him to leave like this.

Then Ashton speaks up. “Look, dude. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Emory, but she and I are friends.”

Suddenly, Luke snaps and stalks towards Ashton, backing him up against the wall. “Was I talking to you?” He points a finger at Ashton. “I would tread lightly if I were you because I’m one second away from burying my fist in your fucking face for touching her.”

Ashton’s demeanor shifts at the threat. I’ve come to realize that Ashton is the most light-hearted, easygoing guy. Until he isn’t.

He sidesteps so he is no longer crowded by Luke. “I know you’re upset about the situation, and apparently unable to get it through your thick skull that there is nothing going on between me and your…girlfriend or whatever she is to you, but it would be in your best interest not to threaten me again.”

Luke’s eyes widen and then narrow. Then he inhales sharply, his breath seeming to catch in his throat. His jaw tightens, and I know he’s resisting the urge to fight with Ashton. He told me once that he doesn’t like physical confrontation if he can avoid it.

“Fuck,” he says, slamming his fist into the wall next to Ashton’s head. He turns around to leave and looks back at me, but he doesn’t say anything. Then he heads out toward the main part of the bar.

I look at Ashton, and he must see everything I don’t say in my eyes.

“Ash, I have to go explain?—”

He pushes off the wall, his lips pressed into a thin line, his worried eyes searching mine. “Will you be safe with him?” he asks. I love that he has become protective of me, but in the sweetest way, where he still trusts my ability to make my own decisions.

“Yes.”

“Then go,” he says, nodding to the exit.

“Thank you, Ash,” I say and stand on my tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

I rush over to give Nate a hug and spout off an excuse about being tired and having to work in the morning. Then I check on Allie, who seems happy enough with the citrus wheat beer she found. She’s chatting with some girls she knows from her kickboxing class. I let her know I’m leaving, and she says she’ll get a ride home later.

I sprint out of the bar, hoping that Luke didn’t drive off yet, and exhale when I see him leaning against his bike, smoking a cigarette, looking like a cardboard cutout of James Dean. I’ve never seen him smoke before, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t mind it in this moment. He has the bad boy trifecta going on right now. Tattoos, motorcycle, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Not to mention his broody stance and the sexy scowl painted on his face. I have to look away from him to keep the damn butterflies in my belly at bay.

“Hey,” I say in a low voice as I approach him.

He doesn’t say anything but eyes me up and down, looking me over in the light of the street lamps and the glow from the windows of the crowded bar.

“So that’s it? You’re going to give me the silent treatment now?”

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” he scoffs, flicking ash from his cigarette onto the ground.

Yeah, I deserved that.

“Are you seeing him?”

“Who, Ashton? No, I told you. He’s a friend.”

“Then why were you hanging on to him like he was your fucking lifeline?”

“He just saved me from some drunk asshole, and I was upset. I needed a hug. That was all.”

“What drunk asshole?” Of course, that’s the part he chooses to latch onto.

“It wasn’t a big deal. Just one of Nate’s friends who had a few too many.”

“Did he touch you?”

“What? Who?”

“The drunk guy. Did he fucking touch you, Emory?” Luke’s eyes darken with a fury I’ve never seen before. His hand curls into a fist, and he grits his teeth so hard that his jaw ticks.

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