Page 66 of After We Fall

Traitorous heart.

“I’m coming in there if you don’t answer me,” he says.

Absolutely not. No way is he coming in here. The girls never come back here, and he is not the exception he’s assuming he is. Besides, I view his departure as the brisk cutoff of our relationship.

No. Working relationship slash friendship.

Delete the friendship.

There. I nod to myself, whisking my legs to the floor and sitting up a little too quickly. The room spins, causing the bohemian colors to swirl in my vision.

“Just a minute, please.” I blink the final dizziness away. After crossing the room, I inch the door open, blocking Luke’s view with my body. “Can I help you?”

His alert eyes study me from head to toe through the crack in the door. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” I answer in a level tone, as if conversing through three inches of space is my normal routine. As if I’m not wound tight, hoping this man leaves without seeing my room. Hoping he leaves without seeing my heart. “Can I help you with something?”

He narrows his eyes.

On an annoyed exhale, I say, “I thought you were leaving town, Luke. Why are you here?”

He shakes a plastic grocery bag in my face. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Thank you. That’s thoughtful of you.” I slip my hand through the crack and grab the handles. As I pull the bag through, it skims the side of the doorframe.

Luke half smiles. “Don’t you want to know what it is before you thank me?”

“I’m sure whatever you brought me is fine. I know you’re preparing to leave town. I won’t keep you. Have a good night.” On my last hasty words, I push the door shut.

Taking two steps to the center of the room, I release a strained breath. I peek inside the bag and pull out a box of herbal tea.

Tension Tamer herbal tea by Celestial Seasonings. What in the world?

The door opens, and I spin around. Shoot! Black spots dot my vision, and I begin to fall to the ground, but Luke slides his arm around my waist and steadies my body against his torso.

I close my eyes and grimace through the pounding in my head.

“You okay?”

I inhale through my nose and nod. I open my eyes and blink several times.

Concern etches the corners of Luke’s eyes, but once I’m stable, he steps back. “We need to talk before I leave, and I thought . . .” He turns his head, scanning my room. He jerks with a double take, his eyes catching on the fringe of my bedroom lamp. In what can only be described as painful slow motion, he takes in each element of my room.

My hippie-inspired, quasi-groovy, anti-Penelope, color-infested room.

A grin cracks across his face. It’s proud, pleased, and annoyingly attractive. “Did you get permission from the 1960s to use this bedspread?” The grin shifts to cocky, amused, and blindingly handsome.

Heat flushes my face, and I cross my healthy arm over my sling, clutching my bicep. “I would like to ask you to leave.”

His face loses its hilarity, and his eyes lock onto mine. “I like the pink.”

I stand frozen.

He takes one more step. “I like the flowers.”

Oxygen. I need oxygen.

“I like seeing this piece of you.”