Page 97 of Honeymoon Phase
I unsteadily stand to my feet, my fleece-lined leggings soaked as a clamminess settles over me. Sweat and snow damp my skin as I glance around and struggle to find my bearings. I squint down into the bright white snow to use my footsteps to follow my path back to the trail. Back to home. I need to go home.
I’ve loved running back here. I haven’t done it since it started snowing and I’ve missed the peace and serenity I feel when I’m out here in the middle of nowhere. Away from the urban sprawl of Boulder. Away from the voices in my head that don’t shut up at night. But right now, this mountain isn’t quieting anything in my mind.
Only Luke can do that.
He is my quiet. My calm. My mountain.
It’s dark by the time I spot the cabin, and my face is swollen and numb, most likely covered in frozen tears and snot as I round the house, desperate to get out of these soggy shoes. I’m mentally preparing for how painful that hot shower is going to be when a gruff voice thunders, “Where the fuck have you been?”
I look up and see Luke.My Luke.He’s standing on our front porch.Ourfront porch, wearing a white T-shirt covered in soot and firemen pants with reflective lines shining in the dark and suspenders up over his shoulders. The yellow porch light casts him in a silhouette as he stomps down the steps toward me, his face positively murderous when he steps out enough for me to see it.
“I’ve been calling you nonstop for an hour, ever since Dakota called to tell me you were upset.”
I pull my phone out of my leggings pocket to see that it’s dead and wet. “I didn’t know my phone died. Sorry.”
“Sorry?” he huffs out a laugh, his face a strange mix of sad and happy. “Jesus Christ. I’ve been worried sick and all you can say is sorry?”
“You’re one to talk,” I yell back, now that I know he’s not fucking dead in a fiery barn. “I had to find out from Dakota that you got called away to a fire.”
His jaw goes taut as he stares back at me, saying nothing.
“A fire, Luke!” My eyes fill with tears again and I swipe at them, annoyed that I still have any tears left to cry.
“I’m sorry,” he says, noticing my obvious pain. “I was... angry.”
“Angry.” I shake my head and smile through my tears as pain bubbles up to the surface and erupts inside of me like a volcano. “I told you we needed to be good through this arrangement, Fletcher.”
“I know that.”
“I told you I couldn’t lose you.”
“I know that too.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing?” I cry, my voice fraught with devastation. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” he growls back, his face twisted in pain as his eyes score over my face.
I inhale a sharp breath and move closer to him, stabbing my finger into his chest. “Fact or fiction, Fletcher. You want me. Not as a friend but as something more.”
Luke exhales heavily, his face long and sad as he holds his hands out in surrender. “Fact.”
I nod slowly. “Now ask me.”
“Roe, I can’t—”
“Shut up and ask me.”
His Adam’s apple slides down his throat before he says, “Fact or fiction. You... want me.”
I lick my lips, my chin quivering with fear because the answer to this feels big. Possibly bigger than I’m ready to admit, but I have to give him something. And I know as soon as I answer this question, we will never be the same. We can never go back to being just friends. But I’m not sure there’s any going back at this point anyways. I’m too far gone.
“It’s a fact, Luke. It was a fact before everything that happened last night and it’s a fact after. I want you. As more than a friend.”
His face turns fierce as he processes my words, having the ridiculous ability to look shocked. How could he not know? How is it not painfully obvious that I’m obsessed with this man?
In a flash, he eliminates the space between us and scoops me up into his arms. My feet dangle off the ground as he presses his forehead to mine, breathing me in as I breathe him in. He smells like smoke and sweat and musky clothes, but I love it. I want to wrap myself in this scent and remember this moment forever.
“Tell me again,” he urges, his arms bound tight around my waist as he holds me to him. “Tell me you want me.”
