More Than Maybe - Erin Hahn Page 0,82
But mother-loving “Lazaretto”?
Long, artistic fingers reach over me and punch in a request before I can see it. Luke holds out his hand.
“Dance with me?”
It’s not a slow song, or a fast one, but it’s perfection. “Just Like Heaven” by the Cure. Well done, Phil, I think. Luke pulls me to the center of the floor and bounces a little with the music, swinging me so my floaty tulle skirt twists around my knees. He’s singing along, and this is my new favorite song because of how seriously cute he is. His cheeks flushed, his wavy blond hair falling across the frames outlining his stellar gray-blue eyes. I’m on the balls of my toes as he spins me out once, and pulls me in, closer than before, and his breath brushes my face, and it’s all cinnamon gum and whispered singing.
Next to us, Mom and Phil are dancing like maniacs, and Cullen and Zack have just walked in, straight from the prom and still in their tuxes. Luke wasn’t kidding. He really didn’t care about missing the prom. They join us on the floor, and Meg hops off a stool, dragging Ben over, and they start jerking around, singing at the tops of their lungs.
All my favorite people are in one contained space. I take it in, my cheeks aching from smiling so widely. My eyes are teary, watering from laughter or sweetness, I can’t tell. But everything at this moment is so lovely I want to preserve it just … like … this … in my mind. The music bouncing off the rafters and echoing off the concrete floors. The smell of the stack of pizzas Cullen and Zack brought to share. The way the lights sparkle off Phil’s glasses, so I can’t see how he’s looking at my mom, but Jesus, I can feel it.
I exchange looks with my mom, and she holds out her arms and I move into her embrace. She pulls me in and whispers, “I’m so lucky, baby.”
I kiss her cheek and whisper back, “You both are.”
We all are.
* * *
After the party wraps, Ben and Kazi offer to clean up, and Luke drives me home in Phil’s shitty truck. “Hungry?” I ask.
He smiles. “We just ate pizza.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess I’m not really ready to go home. I feel too … electric, or something.”
Luke purses his lips and pulls into a small public lot. We’re still downtown, and the warmer weather has people out and about. “I know a spot, if you want.”
“Sure,” I say. My voice is too eager, but I’m wearing a glittery gold dress and I’m with a cute boy with a British accent and my parents just got married. Eager is par for the course tonight.
He opens the door for me and immediately reaches for my hand. “Warm enough?” he asks, gesturing to my cropped jean jacket.
Holding his hand has my face extra flushed. Like, yeah, I’m good. Just hold my hand forever and winters should be a breeze. But I play it cool-ish and nod. Enthusiastically.
Like, my head is swimming and ready to bob right off my shoulders and roll down the sidewalk.
He squeezes my hand and leads me down the road a few blocks, stopping in front of a softly lit all-night coffee shop with quiet guitar music strumming through its speakers. He tugs me inside and orders two hot chocolates with extra marshmallows. After we have them in hand, we sit at a small table outside. The shop blocks the wind, and twinkle lights zigzag across the large awning. We sip our drinks, staring out into the street, people watching, until Luke says, “So. Your boss is your stepdad.”
I blow on the top of my drink and watch as Luke’s eyes follow the action, feeling a little thrill. “He is.”
“Weird?”
“A little. But only because he’s moved into our house. It’s been Mom and me for so long that having a guy live with us is strange. He’s always been like a dad, though, so it’s not a huge stretch.”
He blinks and shakes his head a tiny bit, and I tilt my head in question. His cheeks flame. “Sorry. I told you. You’re very distracting.”
This boy. Gah.
“Let’s walk,” I say, finding it hard to sit still under his gaze. “The breeze is warm.”
This time, I take his hand. He seems uncertain after my abrupt change, and I want to reassure him. And I just want to.
We walk for what seems like forever. We weave up one