profound. I feel so drawn to him, so fascinated by him. His way of looking at the world, how everything he says intrigues me and just makes me want to know more about him. He seems so free-spirited, so positive, so alive. Our conversations, although few, mean something, even the little things—most guys who have ever tried to get to know me have been either too shy and nervous to open up, or too focused on trying to impress me to have any kind of intelligent conversation. Luke is gorgeous and confident and intelligent and everything every other guy I’ve ever met, isn’t. And I’ve never had so much fun! Just in the short time I’ve spent with him on this beach, I can’t help but wonder what other exciting emotions I’ve got locked away inside of me that he could easily draw out.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I stand up and fish my shorts from my bag. But the thought of leaving begins to weigh heavier on my heart the closer it comes time to go; a pang of disappointment settles in my chest, and I find myself struggling to do the simplest of things: stepping into my shorts, buttoning them closed, finding the right words to say good-bye—there are no right words, I quickly realize.
Luke is still staring out at the water.
After shuffling my feet into my flip-flops, I reach down and take up my bag, shouldering the lighter weight of it without my towel inside.
Luke is still staring out at the water.
I pause, thinking more about how to say good-bye until I realize how ridiculous something so simple is and then I say with reluctance, “Well, I guess I need to head back. I enjoyed—”
“Stay,” Luke says, looking up at me at an angle. “Why don’t you stay for a while longer? Just a few days.” The serious look in his face takes me aback; the determination, although subtle and soft, makes my throat dry up in an instant.
“I-I—Luke, I can’t.” Yeah, I can’t stay and I can’t fathom what made him say that to me, or why every part of me wants to.
He rises to his feet, and the intensity of his gaze sends a shot of warmth through my belly and rushing into my heart.
I’m so confused … so—
“I know this sounds crazy,” he says, stepping even closer. “I mean, it even sounds crazy to me, but I want you to stay.”
Suddenly his hazel eyes light up as if an idea just flashed in front of them.
“Hey,” he says with a bright face, “you could even give me some pointers on setting up a charity art event at the community center I’m helping organize.” His mouth turns up on one side teasingly. “You could show me some of those mad event coordinating skills you have—I’ll even pay you for your time.”
I start to smile back at him because that grin of his is infectious, but then I just shake my head. “Luke, I really … I mean, I’d love to help out, but—”
He takes both of my hands into his and his eyes soften, but with such sincerity and determination. I look down at his hands, his strong fingers curled around mine. I can’t fight the feeling his touch compels, and I tighten my fingers around his in response to it.
Oh God, what’s happening? Where is this coming from? And why is it not making me want to take off running in the other direction?
The soft touch of his fingers against the skin of my arms makes my whole body shiver. But I keep my head on straight and take a step away from him.
He frowns, and I can’t help it—so do I.
“I … I really can’t,” I say and hate that it’s true. “Maybe we can exchange phone numbers.”
He shakes his head and buries his hands in his pockets, looking past me, sifting through his thoughts, it seems.
“I know I probably overstepped my bounds,” he says. “I’m not a freak, I swear, but I just thought I’d take a risk.” He laughs lightly, trying to cover up his slight embarrassment.
The smile finally returns to my face and my eyes soften on him.
“I don’t think you’re a ‘freak’ at all,” I say, stepping closer. “It did catch me by surprise, but … well, it wasn’t scaring me away, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He blushes and his gaze strays from mine momentarily. He’s ridiculously adorable.
“But I’m curious,” I say, and he looks at me again,