Page 4 of Addicted to Love

Luke keeps watching me, staring at me like he can see into my head and decipher the jumbled mess that’s unfolding there. Finally, he mutters, “That’s such a bullshit answer.”

“Love leaves, but what Mark and I have—he’s there for me.” I’m shrugging, avoiding his eyes as I say it because I know how I sound. I sound like a fool. Like a hopeless fool.

“How can you be there for someone, if you’re literally never there?”

Growling, I push him away, careful not to touch his injured arm. “Why are you so infuriating? Are you trying to piss me off?”

“I like seeing you riled up.” His eyes glitter dangerously as he swipes a thumb across his bottom lip. His honesty sends a strange thrill through me.

“Well, enjoy. Memorise my face, because I don’t want you hanging around here anymore.” I glare at him, but he doesn’t seem deterred. In fact, I think it excites him more, as he seems to view me as a challenge.

“We haven’t finished this conversation.” He nods towards the store, and out of the corner of my eye I spot Tiffany and one of the other sales assistants, Ellie, watching through the glass. We’d been out here talking a while now, and my co-workers were beginning to notice. “What time do you finish ?”

Huffing, I adjust my purse strap on my shoulder. “Why would you wait for me? We aren’t friends. You could be a serial killer for all I know.”

“With a face like this?” He winks.

I narrow my eyes. “Urm, Ted Bundy?”

“Point taken. Anyway, I’ll see you at half 5.” Luke smirks before glancing down at my socks with dark eyes, his words replaying in my head, the implication hanging heavy between us. Maybe Mark was right to hit him. Before I can protest, he’s walked away, and I’m left staring at his ass as he goes.

After Tiffany locks the door, we walk out to the front of the mall together.

Ellie spots Luke first, he’s sat on a bench, a can of Coke in his hand and the corner of his mouth pulled up into a half-smile.

Tiffany nudges me. “Is that guy giving you trouble?”

I shake my head as we approach him. “No, he just wants something I can’t give him.”

“What?” Ellie whispers as she waves at him. She fluffs up her blonde hair and adds a little extra bounce in her walk. She was welcome to Luke, he was nothing but temptation and trouble, especially if he kept watching me with that speculative gaze.

I scoff, “Me.”

Ellie laughs. “He’s yummy though. A choice piece of ass.” She loved working in TapeWorld, it was her dream to meet a handsome musician and follow them on tour. She was only 18, she had time to learn that the idea of a musician was probably better than the reality, and y’know, steady money meant that all the bills were paid.

Shrugging, I move away from them as they head towards the car park. “Maybe, but he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

“They’re always the most fun,” Tiffany teases as she goes in the opposite direction to where Luke is sitting. “See you Thursday, Tammy.”

I wait until they’re out of ear shot before moving closer to him. I assumed he’d stand as I neared, but instead he stayed sitting, Coke in one hand, the other in the sling, strapped to his chest.

Looking up at me, his half-smile stretches into a full lazy grin. “Why do you look so annoyed? Haven’t you ever had anyone meet you after work before?”

His question irritates me. Mark had waited for me plenty of times. Usually when we were going to The Tipsy Cow, or to a house party. Actually, they were the only times he waited for me. A small simmer of anger begins burning in the back of my mind, where the hell was Mark?

“That for me?” I nod at the soda can as he reaches out and hands it to me. Popping the ring pull, opening it with a hiss, I barely register that his now empty hand is on the back of my leg, pulling me closer to him until his nose is almost touching my stomach. He looks up at me with that tender look on his face, hunger in his eyes, and I resist the urge to reach down and stroke his face. How the hell had we gotten like this? I’d met him a handful of times, each occasion edged with an odd intimacy that made me feel like crawling out of my own skin. His fingers are barely touching the exposed skin, just above my knee-high socks, and yet it’s the sexiest thing I’ve felt in a while.

“You should stop,” I warn, my voice low as I stay perfectly still. I should move away. I should...

“I haven’t done anything.” The word ‘yet’ lingers, unspoken between us, and I stifle a groan as I take a sip of the sugary drink, forcing myself to swallow so that I don’t think about the way his thumb has begun tracing small circles near the back of my knee. Since when were knees an erogenous zone?

Thankfully we’re interrupted as my bus pulls up to the stop a few benches over.

“We still haven’t talked.”

I wave at the driver and step away from the intoxicating bubble we’re in. With a shrug, I call over my shoulder as I prepare to step into the bus, “I live at the Sunnyview Trailer Park, number 108. Mark’s van is 117. If you still want to find him, he’ll be there eventually.”

I realise that I’m giving him the option to find Mark, to find me whenever he wants, and a part of me hopes that he does. The other part is convinced that once he sees where I’m from, how I live, he’ll vanish from my life just as quickly as he appeared in it.

---