“You won’t do that at the end of the semester?” Luke lets me stand again, but he keeps hold of my hand and leads me across the room toward the door. “When work is all done?”
“No, I think it would be more powerful if I start it now. While everything is still fresh in my mind.”
“Ohhhh, I get it.” His interested smile turns smug as we move down the stairs. “You’re gonna write your paper on me and my giant dick, aren’t you?”
An obnoxious throat-clearing sounds from below, bringing my gaze up with a snap, and beside me, Luke’s playfulness makes way for tension and a painfully tight grip of his hand around mine.
Jason stands at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at us with a type of rage in his eyes.
“Donnerson?” Luke growls, matching Jason’s rage, and steps in front of me to block my view. “You just fuckin’ insist on being seen, huh?”
“Luke, st—”
“Inappropriate discussion topic for a public staircase, no?”
“No.” Luke’s body grows and vibrates with danger. He’s the guy who fights for a living, the guy with a rap sheet, and community service that is yet to be completed. “This isn’t a public building,” he continues. “It’s private, as was our conversation.”
“Luke.” I grip his pulsing bicep and try to pull him around. “You need to st—”
“It was so good to speak with you yesterday, Allyson.” Jason can’t see me, just as I can’t see him. But he speaks bravely and without care for the fighter readying to violate court orders. “I really enjoyed our time together. Our discussion was… enchanting.”
Luke’s furious gaze comes around to look down at me over his shoulder. His eyes blaze with fire, and his brows shoot up. “Oh?”
“No. Stop it.” I squeeze his arm as tight as I can. I’m here, and I’m ready to argue back. I refuse to hide or back down, but also, I won’t make a damn scene in front of one of Sonia’s clients. “We’re going to get breakfast. Right now. Me and you.”
I step around Luke, and smile for Jason when our eyes meet. My stomach jumps for just a second, a strange electricity pulses in my blood, but I close my eyes and shake it off.
I can’t have a jumping stomach around this man. I will not.
Dragging Luke away from the stairs, I lead him toward the hotel doors and outside into the fresh breeze. “You need to stop that bullshit,” I hiss as soon as we’re free of the doors. “Dammit, Luke, just stop it.”
“What bullshit, Ally?” He tugs his hand from mine the second we reach his truck, and instead laps the length of the parking space while I watch. “What discussion did you have? What was so fucking enchanting about it?”
“I’m not doing the jealousy thing, Luke. I told you yesterday that I will not be peed on just to soothe a fragile male ego.”
“Fragile?” He barks out. “I’m not fragile, Allyson! I’m protective, and needy, and sometimes I just want a fucking hug. What I definitely don’t want is some stranger turning up in town, staying where you’re staying, being everywhere you are, and calling your discussions enchanting.”
“You’re needy?” I blow past the rest of his words. Past the alpha tantrum, past the guy with potential stalkerish tendencies, and I stop on the small nuggets of perfection. “You want a hug?”
“I always want a hug. Fuck! Who doesn’t?”
So I step forward, and wrap my arms around his torso. He was still pacing, which means our hug is more like a crash, but once we make contact and I clamp my fingers together at his back, Luke’s face comes down to my neck, and his rage turns into something else. Something much more pure.
“I always want a hug too,” I whisper against his chest, “so if this is what you need, then this is something I can give.”
“Ally…” He groans and squeezes me tight while his heart hammers against me. “I don’t know how to be selfless. That talk last night about altruism? That was me. That was all about me.” He peppers a kiss to my neck. To my shoulder. To my ear. “I’m a selfish motherfucker. I’ll want your attention, I’ll be that annoying kid who screams ‘watch me, watch me, watch me’, only to then bounce a ball on my knee or some stupid shit. I’m a man, but with childish tendencies. I’m scared of commitment, but I’m terrified of losing you. How’s that for fucking weird?”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Stop analyzing me!” He shoves me away to go back to pacing, but I laugh as I stumble, and when my laugh turns to a piggy snort, Luke races back again and slams his lips to mine.
“It makes me insane,” he breathes out. “It makes my brain swirl faster. It makes my heart race, and my stomach drop, and my toes tingle, and my cock swell, and my throat dry, and my palms clammy.” He pulls back and shoves his palms in my face. “I’ve never had sweaty hands before you. Never!”
“So you’re vulnerable,” I tease. “And being vulnerable scares you.”
“No, Allyson.” His nostrils flare with rage. “Being vulnerable pisses me off. I gave up some of my power when I met you, so now you control my happiness. You control everything. And that annoys the shit out of me.”
Laughter bubbles in my chest. “You’re so focused on what you lost, that you fail to see what you gained. I’m not running away, am I? You seem to have control over me too. My happiness. My sadness. My damn mood, and my morning walk to work. Us fighting about this stuff is fine. We’re both stubborn, independent people, so it’s going to take some time to iron out the bumps. But arguing about a guy neither of us actually knows, about a client who had his first hour with Sonia yesterday…”
“Wait.” Luke comes to a screeching halt. “He’s a client?”
I shake my head. Then nod. Then shake it again. “I can’t discuss this, Luke. I can’t discuss who is and who is not a client. But I need you to know that I won’t fight about it either. It’s a waste of our time, and it’s literally a non-issue for us. No matter how this all shakes out, I will not let you control who I speak to. I can’t. I refuse to start that nonsense and create a precedence.”
He stares down at the ground, swallows, and kicks rocks when I stare so hard, he must surely feel the heat. “I need to trust?”
“Yes.” I step closer and lay my cheek on his chest. “Yes, you need to calm the hell down, and trust. Because if there’s no trust, then we may as well walk now.”
“What if I say I trust you, but I don’t trust the guy who may or may not want to toss you in his murder van and hold you hostage?”
I choke out a soft laugh, and even knowing I’m messing up my makeup, I remain plastered to his chest. “Then I’m going to have to ask you to trust me to handle myself. I don’t think the guy owns a murder van, nor do I think he would steal me even if he did.”
He scoffs. “That’s naïve of you.”
“I think he’s a guy who needs someone to talk to. He needs a friend—”
“Oh, good!” He throws his head back to study the sky. “You’re gonna be that for him, and I’m expected to chill the fuck out and trust while you get ice cream and watch movies, right?”