I washed my hands, took off my clothes, shoved my silver in my jeans pockets and pulled on the tee he had given me. It was seriously cool, old, faded, soft and black with a Triumph motorcycle in silver on the front of it. It was huge on me, coming down over my h*ps to my upper thighs. It felt good on, nice and snug and I tried (hard) not to think of wearing Luke’s t-shirt at the same time, trying to figure out how to steal it.
I folded my clothes neatly, as if my life depended on it. Without anything else to do to delay, I opened the bathroom door, switched off the light and walked into the loft.
The loft was still lit only by the lights outside.
Luke I saw, my heart beginning to beat a little faster in my chest, was lying in bed, sheets to his waist, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling seeming peaceful and Zen, as if he spent a lot of time in that position. This was all I really saw, mainly because without my contacts my vision was blurry. Which I had to admit, still struggling with fidelity to my vibrators, was kind of a bummer.
I walked slowly to the bar, semi-feeling my way with my feet, and put my clothes on a stool. Then I turned to him.
“Can I use your phone?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he took his hands from behind his head, twisted to the nightstand and pulled the phone out of its cradle.
I walked to him and took it from his outstretched hand. “It’s long distance,” I told him.
“Where’s Sissy?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes, mainly because I was also noticing that you didn’t get much by Luke and that was kind of annoying.
“Wyoming.”
“As long as it isn’t England.”
I nearly smiled at him but stopped myself just in time.
I looked at the phone. Then I realized I had a slight problem. Although I had memorized Sissy’s Mom’s number, I couldn’t see the keypad without my contacts. It was a new phone to me, who knew where the buttons were?
Shit.
I was wrong, the going to the bathroom thing was embarrassing, this was mortifying.
I stood there, uncertain. Then I realized I had no choice. Sissy was probably packing the car as I hesitated, ready to come down to find out what happened to me and face my house, empty, or her house, probably cordoned off with police tape. Then she would lose it, thinking Dom had killed me or, more likely, I had killed Dom.
Crap.
“Luke?”
“Yeah?”
I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought he was looking at me. “I need you to dial the number. I can’t see the phone.”
I didn’t know what I expected him to do. Still, I was surprised that, without hesitation, he sat up and took the phone out of my hand.
“What’s the number?”
I told him, he punched it in with his thumb and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I whispered, listening to it ring.
“Good to have you back, babe,” he said, his voice soft, gentle, affectionate and I felt my body jerk in reaction to his tone and his words just before Sissy answered the phone.
“Please let this be Ava,” she said.
“Yo,” I replied, turning away from Luke, wishing I could run away from Luke, and again wondering what in the hell I was doing.
“I’ve called a gazillion times!” Sissy shouted in my ear.
“I know. I’m sorry. I… something happened and I got separated from my purse,” I made it to the window by the kitchen, leaned against the brick sill and stared out at LoDo.