“Luke!”
He stood and for a second I thought he was going to leave. Also I had to admit, for a second, I felt unbelievably disappointed.
Instead, he dropped his cargo pants and I heard his belt hit the floor.
Holy crap!
Then he pulled the covers back and settled on his back in the bed.
I came up on an elbow and glared at him or in his general direction. “You aren’t sleeping here.”
“What’s Noah’s last name?”
I blinked in the darkness.
“Excuse me?”
“His last name.”
“Dexter, why?”
“He white?”
“Sorry?”
“Caucasian.”
“Yes,” I answered, deciding to move away from this strange turn of the conversation. “About the futon –”
“Do you know his birth date?”
“Luke –”
“Ava, what’s his f**king birthday?”
“July twenty-third, why are you asking me this?”
“You got a social security number?”
I felt a thrill slide through me as I cottoned on to the purpose of his interrogation and I shot up to a sitting position in the bed.
“Don’t you –!” I started to protest but Luke sat up too, faster than I’d seen anyone move giving new meaning to “abs of steel”. In the blink of an eye I found myself on my back, Luke full body on top of me.
“Get off me!” I shouted, bucking my body under his.
“This Noah guy’s got her.”
I was back to blinking, so confused I stilled. “Got who?” I asked.
“The old Ava.”
Instantly I felt the tears stinging my eyes, all fight left me and I turned my head to the side.
His hands came to either side of my face and he turned it back. “He took her when he disappeared, didn’t he?” Luke asked, his voice gentle.
Crapity, crap, crap, crap.
His gentle voice got me every f**king time.