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Luke arrives last, freshly showered and wearing a black button-down that makes his eyes look impossibly blue. Our gazes briefly meet before I busy myself with serving.
“Something sure smells good,” Vince declares, taking a seat. “I knew you could cook, but damn.”
“Wait till you taste it,” Luke says, and something in his voice makes me blush.
Dinner is a lively affair. The guys trade stories about their early days, and Emily and I laugh at the tales of misadventures and near-disasters on their first tour.
“Remember when Luke tried to crowd surf at that club in Tampa?” Nate grins. “And everyone just... moved?”
“I still have bruises from that,” Luke groans good-naturedly. “In my defense, I thought the crowd was paying attention.”
“They were too busy watching Cass,” Vince says. “Or those of us playing the guitar. No one notices the keyboard player.”
“Hey, some of us notice,” I say without thinking. When they all look at me, I add quickly, “I mean, the keyboard parts were always my favorite. In your songs.”
Luke’s eyes meet mine across the table, intense enough to make my breath catch. I quickly look away.
“What about us drummers? Nobody notices us either,” Nate points out quietly.
“Why should they, when they’ve got me to look at?” Vince jokes arrogantly.
Everyone groans and Luke asks for seconds. I smile, feeling the food is a hit. Sam makes a dramatic show of declaring the pot roast ‘the best thing I’ve evereaten,’ and Emily asks for the recipe. Even Presley wakes up in time to enjoy a little mashed potato, earning delighted laughs when she smears it across her face.
The meal is everything I hoped it would be—light, fun, and filled with the kind of energy that makes being with friends fun.
When it’s time for dessert, I pull out the apple pie I’d baked earlier.
“This is so good,” Vince says after his first bite of pie. “Luke, if you don’t start dating this girl, I will.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. Luke’s knuckles go white around his fork.
“And on that note,” Nate says, standing, “we should probably all head out.”
Luke stands, recovering. They bicker, good-naturedly, as everyone gathers their things. I hug them goodbye and thank them for coming.
“Thanks for dinner,” Emily quietly says as she hugs me. “And for making Luke smile like that again.”
Before I can ask what she means, they’re gone, leaving Luke and me alone in my suddenly quiet kitchen.
“That was fun,” I say, moving to wrap up the leftover pie.
“It was.” Luke steps closer, and I can feel the heat of him behind me.
“Glad you liked it,” I say, glancing at him. “You deserved a good meal after fixing Agatha.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”
“Sure, I did,” I say, smiling. “It was the least I could do.”
The silence stretches, and I realize he’s still watching me. His gaze is steady, warm, and just a little too intense for comfort.
“Thanks. Not just for dinner, but for asking about my favorite food.”
I turn around, intending to make a joke about Emily’s loose lips, but the words die in my throat. He’s so close, looking at me with an intensity that weakens my knees.
“Lila,” he says softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my face. His fingers linger on my cheek, and I find myself leaning into his touch without meaning to.
He bends down slowly, giving me time to pull away. I know I should. That this is wrong, and I’m setting myself up for heartbreak.