Page 13 of Such A Good Guy

Luna

“You can barely see the CN Tower,” I said, disgruntled, and I looked back at Luke.

He was breathing deeply, two spots of color high on the cheekbones of his model-perfect face.

“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously, watching as he rubbed a tanned hand quickly over his nose. “Are you on drugs?”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes dancing at me. “I love drugs.”

I scoffed. “No, you don’t. You’re way too square for drugs and you always have been.”

“Didn’t I try those weed brownies when you made them in college?” he countered. “And the weed cookies? And also the disastrous weed carrot cake?”

I laughed. “Pft, that doesn’t count. You always ate everything I made. Even my tofu burgers.”

“Those weren’t bad,” he said.

“Youwere the only one who was able to eat more than a bite of them without gagging.”

He shrugged, his eyes warm as they looked at me.

A littletoowarm.

Oh, god, surely he wasn’t going to make this whole trip awkward. I didn’t know how long I was going to have to be up here to do the paperwork.

“How long do you think it’s going to take to. . .get Adrian’s ashes?” I asked, because I didn’t like the look in his eyes.

Luke was too sweet to even try making arealmove on me if I wasn’t interested, but I wanted to make sure he didn’t get the wrong impression.

“It might take a few weeks,” he said. “But I can make up for any lost wages since you’ve had to close your crystal shop for this.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said uncomfortably. “You don’t have to be like Santa Claus now that you’re loaded.”

He shrugged again.

“I have more money than I need. And it’s only fair since you had to come up here.”

That was perfectly logical, and of course Luke was practically family, but still. . .

“Well, you don’t have to take me to all your concerts,” I added. “I wouldn’t want to take a seat from any of your rabid fans.”

“But Iwantyou there, Luna,” he said.

The way he said it was almost like a caress, and my stomach lurched again.

What the fuck? I never got motion sickness, but this ride had me about to hurl.

When we got to the Rogers Centre, Luke opened the door for me, then got out too, his fingertips brushing against my elbow.

“Now, Luke, we’re such old friends you don’t have to do all this for me.”

“Weareold friends,” he said. “But I still want to.”

When we got out, he introduced me to his Business Manager Ignatius Carleton and a variety of other staffers he of course knew all by name and had a nice word for each.

“This is Luna,” he said. “I’ve known her a long time and she’s very special to me.”

Then he squeezed my shoulder briefly and affectionately, his hands always respectful even though my Metallica T-shirt was hanging off my arm, leaving acres of skin he could have groped if he was some kind of pervert instead of a good guy.

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