too much.
“What else did I tell you?”
“Why are you embarrassed?” he asked instead of answering.
“Are you joking?”
“No. Last night, I told you I hadn’t been with a woman since I left the Navy.” Luke shrugged like his admission was no big thing.
Like it wasn’t personal.
Like we were lifelong friends who shared intimate details about our lives all the time.
“I appreciate you sharing that with me. And I suppose you knowing I haven’t had sex in a while isn’t the end of the world. It’s the other part I wish I would’ve kept to myself.”
“The masturbation.”
“Was it necessary to clarify?”
“Absolutely.”
“How long have you been out of the Navy?”
“A while,” he evaded.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Then how’s this? Less than four years but more than six months. And to clarify your unanswered question, I have no issue with masturbation. Though my hand is nowhere near satisfying, it works.”
I forgot about my burning cheeks when a new very unwelcomed shiver happened.
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
Luke smirked disbelievingly.
“Seriously, I have no desire to know what you and your right hand get up to in the privacy of your bedroom.”
“I’m left-handed,” he returned.
“Huh?”
“I’m left-handed,” he repeated. “What me and my left hand get up to. And I don’t jerk off in bed. The shower always.”
“This is the most bizarre conversation I’ve ever had,” I muttered.
“Trust me, it’s not. This is the second time we’ve been over this.”
My eyes drifted closed and I prayed for the end of the world. An asteroid careening toward earth would’ve been much appreciated. A fireball of death and destruction to end my misery.
“I’m never drinking again,” I muttered every drunk’s famous last words.
“For the most part, you’re a fun drunk.”
“Awesome. I’m glad you think me sharing my secrets makes me fun.”
“Darlin’, we haven’t gotten to the part where you were dancing on the pool table yet.”
My eyes snapped open and horror washed over me.
“I didn’t—”
“I’m joking. You didn’t dance on the table. But you are a fun drunk and not because you spilled your secrets. Because you’re fun sober. You’re funny and open and hold nothing back. After a few drinks, you’re the same you, just more of you. All of it good. All of it sweet and funny.”
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
All humor fled when Luke answered, “You’re welcome, Shiloh. But I should be thanking you for trusting me. Means a lot to me you felt comfortable enough with me to give yourself something you needed.”
The doorbell rang and I was saved from having to respond. Luke got up from the couch, handled the delivery, then dumped the pizza and salad on the coffee table and told me to stay put while he rooted around my kitchen. Luke came back with plates and utensils and we dug in.
It would be awhile—after I’d had three slices and finished my salad, after Luke had turned on the TV and perused the channels until he settled on a crime drama and the show had come to an end—before I drew up enough courage to ask the question that had plagued my mind since I’d woken up.
“Why’d you spend the night?”
I crossed my fingers in hopes his answer would be because I’d puked several times between the bar and home and he was afraid I’d do it more and choke and die.
Yes, that was how desperate I was—I would rather have puked in front of hot guy Luke than to have begged him to stay with me because I was now afraid to close my eyes and sleep.
When his gaze didn’t leave the TV panic rose. I’d done or said something that caused him discomfort.
Shit. Goddamn.
“Luke?” I whispered.
His head slowly turned and when his eyes met mine there was pain staring back at me. So much pain it hurt just to see it.
A beat later he shattered my carefully contained world.
5
I’d had all day to contemplate this very conversation.
I’d spent a good amount of time rationalizing the difference between a lie and omitting information that had the potential to hurt someone. Twenty-four hours ago all I knew about Shiloh was she was beautiful, funny, and a danger to my wellbeing. But last night in her drunken state I got to know her well. She’d told me pretty much everything about her life with unfiltered detail.
I knew about her father. Her brothers. How guilty she felt that Echo had to step up and raise them even before her dad went down. How River and Phoenix had done the same. I knew her mother was