“Then what?”
He shrugged. “I did what Gus is doing now. Hooked up with randos and moved on before anything got heavy. It was weird, though. I never felt anything emotionally for anyone I slept with, and I expected that, wanted it, even, but I didn’t realise until...”
I nudged him. “Go on. Until what?”
Luke sighed. “I didn’t realise until we got close again a few weeks ago that I wasn’t feeling anything physically either. It’s like I’m numb to all women except you.”
He straightened up and took the empty rice bowl to the sink. My heart followed him, but I stayed where I was, running my gaze over his broad shoulders and long, muscular arms, cataloguing his tough exterior like it hadn’t been a couple of hours since I’d last had my hands on him. The distraction worked, and heat rose in me again until he turned around with a blank expression on his face.
No way. Did he really have no clue that this worked both ways?
I crossed the kitchen and inserted myself into his personal space, winding my arms around his waist in a flood of affection that had nothing to do with sex. “It’s been the same for me,” I whispered.
Luke stared down at me. “But you were married.”
“To someone I didn’t love.” I knocked my head against his chest. “And before that I had similar experiences to yours. No one ever made me come like you.”
A chuckle rumbled out of him, disbelieving, and laced with a hysteria I recognised. And I hated that—hated that he was so afraid of how he was feeling. Afraid to feel at all. Had loving me done this to him? Or had life truly busted him up so badly he didn’t know which way was up? “What was it like?”
He blinked. “What was what like?”
“Being a part of wars and conflict. You’re so brave, but I just can’t bear to picture it.”
“Then don’t,” he said. “It wasn’t like that for me anyway. I was a sailor, not a soldier, and the only direct role I ever played in conflict was humanitarian, distributing aid, stuff like that. I saw some awful shit, but I had the privilege of knowing I hadn’t personally contributed to it. And I guess I needed it that way. Back then, with a gun in my hand, I’d have been dangerous. Besides, war never healed anyone.”
“Is that why you went? To be healed?”
“You know why I went.”
“No, I know what you say. That’s not the same thing.” I stepped away from him and folded my arms. “Do you ever wonder if we’re too broken to put back together?”
“Individually or apart?”
“Both.”
Helplessness brought Luke’s eyes back to life. He started to speak, but a revving car engine cut him off. “What the fuck?”
He turned his back on me and peered out the window.
“It’s just a car,” I snapped.
He ignored me, stretching at an impossible angle to stare at who-the-hell-knew what, muttering something I couldn’t quite decipher.
Car tyres squealed, and suddenly he was pushing past me to get to the back door.
He dashed out of the house, barefoot and shirtless, and disappeared into the night. Bemused, I followed, but I had no hope of catching him.
In the distance, a black car spun around at the end of the quiet cul-de-sac and gunned its engine, headlights flashing bright and illuminating Luke standing in the middle of the road. Tyres squealed again, and the car lurched forward, speeding down the street towards him, showing no sign of stopping.
Panic surged through me. I set off running. “Luke! Get out of the way.”
But he didn’t budge, or acknowledge he’d heard me. Just stood there, like he was waiting to be hit.
My feet pounded the pavement, stones cutting into my bare feet. “Luke!” I screamed again. “For God’s sake, move!”
He glanced over his shoulder, the roar of the car engine deafening as it hurtled towards him, and the look on his face stopped me dead. He doesn’t care if it hits him. I didn’t know Luke as well as I wanted to anymore, but that split second, I’d never been more certain of anything. Please God, no.
I braced myself for the impact of the car, for the crunch of metal on bone. A silent scream formed in my throat, but at the last possible moment, Luke broke my gaze, turned back to the car, and calmly stepped out of its way.
The car sped past and peeled out of the junction. Luke watched it go, then walked casually over to me like nothing had happened.
I thumped his arm. “What the fuck was that?”
He glanced at his arm, and then at me, his expression hard. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Luke
When it became clear Mia wasn’t going to answer me, I strode past her and back to the house.
She followed, and whacked me again, harder this time, until I reached back and caught her hands.
I dragged her into the house and slammed the door. Then I released her and braced myself for her to come at me again.
She didn’t. Her eyes were fierce in the darkness, but her fury was marred by confusion and something else. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Just stand there and wait for that car to hit you.”
I laughed. Couldn’t help it. “That’s what you think I was doing?”
“You didn’t move.”
“Yes, I did. Or I’d be roadkill right now. The question is, why? And actually, who? Because that car has been everywhere you and I have been together since the night of the gala, and I’m pretty sure it’s no one I know.”
Mia frowned, bewilderment twisting her beautiful face. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you?”
“No!” she shouted. “All I know is that you just stood there and didn’t seem to care if that lunatic mowed you down.”
Her words scraped a nerve, but my mental health was the last thing on my mind. I stepped towards her, ignoring the lance of pain when she flinched. “The point is, that some nutter in a car wanted to mow me down, not that I didn’t get out of the way according to your schedule. Who is it?”
Realisation finally seemed to dawn on her. The fight in her eyes faded a touch, and she shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen that car before.”
“Well, I have. It was outside the town hall the night of the gala, and in Gus’s street three times this week. I even saw it outside the gym when we went on Thursday.”