I’m on cloudnine, feeling delicious in triple postorgasmic bliss, feeling comfortable with Luke, if not a little anxious about…well, my weirdness. What else is new?
Then his face shuts down, going blank, and my heart beats a bit faster.
“Don’t make me peel back your skull,” I tell him.
He winces.
“Too much?” I ask lightly.
He grabs my wrist, pinning me against him as he flips us onto his back.
“I like that,” I tell him decisively. “Big strong man.”
“I need to tell you something,” he says slowly, and fear leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.
“You’re married. You have a girlfriend,” I blurt out. “You are pregnant with the president’s baby. It’s a litter of puppies.”
He tilts his head, giving me an incredulous look. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“I’d let you peel back my skull, but I don’t know if you’d get what you were looking for.”
He pulls me tighter, and a little squeak comes out of me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Luke, you’re kind of freaking me out,” I whisper. “We called the marriage off this morning, remember?”
His grip loosens. “I don’t have any of those things, especially not the puppy pregnancy. What I do have…is—”
He lets out a huge breath, and some of my now-dried hair flies up from the force of it.
I’m going to be sick from anxiety over whatever he’s working up to telling me.
“My mom.”
“I have a mom, too,” I say breathlessly. “See? We have so much in common.”
A hint of a smile quirks one corner of his mouth before disappearing into a frown.
“My mom is sick. With cancer. Stage three.”
“Oh, Luke,” I say, my eyes immediately welling with tears. “I’m so sorry. What can I do? Do you need to go visit?”
He closes his eyes, his throat bobbing. “I can’t visit as often as I like during the season.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you both.” I frown. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“She’s in Seattle—”
“I could fly us up there. I have work up there—”
“It’s just hard,” he says slowly, cutting me off, then rubbing a thumb across my cheekbone. “That’s all.”
I get the feeling there’s more there, under the surface, but he doesn’t say anything else, and I shouldn’t poke at a clearly open wound.
“Okay, well, if you want to talk about it, if you need to talk about it, I can be serious.” I draw out the word. “I am sure that’s shocking to hear, but I can be a great listener if you need me to be.”
He stares at my face for a minute with the same intensity I’ve come to expect from him, but with a hint of softness underneath.
“Luke,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Last night…when I told you that stuff about…well, basically my most embarrassing moment and career suicide all at once, it was hard.” I blow out the rest of the breath, trying to figure out what I’m saying. “But I feel better. I feel better having told you. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m happy to return the favor and listen.”