Page 18 of Such A Good Guy

I did need to eat something and then get out of these goddamn jeans. Not only were they tight as fuck and cutting into my belly, but my pussy felt like it was swollen, too.

What on earth could be causing this?

These were not normal ovulation symptoms. My pussy felt overheated, like there was a pulse beating through my pussy lips. I darted a glance over at Ignatius. Maybe having sex with him would cure me.

“Want to come with us?” I asked.

“No, he has to go do work at the hotel,” Luke said sharply. “Too busy.”

I huffed internally but said nothing, since I was too busy trying to pull my jeans down at the knees and relieve some pressure on my aching pussy.

God, it wasthrobbing,my panties fucking soaked.

“Luna, I have something I want to ask you,” Luke said after we found a little lunch place and ordered. Caribou loin and mashed potatoes for him, and Nunavut arctic char for me.

My stomach twisted nervously.

Fuck. I had been trying to avoid this.

Whatwasthis anyway? Why now? Why after my brother had just died?

“Luke, maybe we shouldn’t. . .” I began.

But when I trailed off, he spoke.

“Have you ever thought about. . .you and me?” he asked, his blue eyes fastened on my dark ones.

I stilled a moment, playing nervously with my silverware.

How could I let him down easily without making the whole trip awkward?

“You and me what?”

“You and metogether.”

His blue eyes were bright and magnetic.

Oh my god, and he’d been so nice flying me out here and helping me with all this paperwork. He’d literally already done so much to get my brother’s ashes sent home.

“I’d love to take you out on a real date, Luna,” Luke continued.

Why wouldn’t he look away? Turn those magnetic eyes to someone else?

He paused for a moment as the waitress brought back two steaming cups of coffee.

She was clearly trying to get him to notice her, but he was just looking at me.

“No,” I said firmly. “You’re my brother’s best friend. It would just be weird.”

“It wouldn’t be weird,” Luke said, smiling at me. “Oh, excuse me?” he called back to the waitress. “Can I get some cinnamon? She always likes it in her coffee.”

I gritted my teeth.

Ididalways take cinnamon in my coffee.

“I’ve known you too long, Luke. You’re practically family.”

“We’re not family,” Luke said, handing me the little jar of cinnamon, his fingers brushing against mine.

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