Page 37

Lila
My fingers trace my lips for the hundredth time, remembering. The heat of Luke’s mouth, the press of his body, the desperate way he held me in his arms and touched me—bringing me to…
No. Stop it.
I force my attention back to my weekly schedule. It’s been two weeks since the charity, and I’ve managed to avoid Luke completely—helped by the fact that Wild has been touring up and down the East Coast. Every time I see news about their shows in Charlotte or Atlanta, I pretendmy heart doesn’t skip a beat.
Between my morning shifts at Beach Bites and the growing list of private clients, I barely have time to breathe—which is exactly how I want it. Staying busy means not thinking about what happened at the charity. And it definitely means not remembering how Luke’s hands felt...
“There you are!” Emily’s voice makes me jump. She’s standing in Beach Bite’s tiny break room doorway, Presley on her hip. “What’s so fascinating?”
“Just organizing next week’s private events,” I tell her. Then, excitedly, “I picked up three new clients at the charity, by the way. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Uh-huh.” She settles into the chair across from me. “And that’s definitely what had you looking all dreamy just now. New clients.”
“Emily...”
“Come on! You still haven’t told us what happened that night. One minute, you were dancing with James Harrison; the next, you disappeared, and when you returned, you looked like you had lost your best friend.”
I focus on my color-coded planner. “Nothing happened.”
“Kendrick saw Luke follow you into that hallway.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “It wasn’t—we just talked.” I try not to remember how Luke’s hands felt sliding up my sides, how he growled my name against my throat as he…
“Uh-huh,” Emily grins knowingly. “You just… talked.”
“Can we please change the subject?” I beg. “Tell me about the tour. How’s the band doing?”
She lets me deflect, but her knowing look says this conversation isn’t over. Emily updates me on Wild’s latest shows. Sometimes, I forget how busy she must be, managing such a popular band and with a baby. She makes it look effortless.
“Now, back to Luke—“ Just hearing his name makes my heart lurch.
“Lila, can you give me a hand?!” Ruth Ann, Beach Bite’s owner, calls from the front.
“Saved by the bell,” I say, standing quickly.
But Emily follows me. “You know you’ll have to face him eventually, right? He lives next door.”
“Not if I perfect my ninja-like stealth skills.” I tie my apron. “Besides, I’m too busy for... complications. My private chef business is finally taking off.”
It’s true. James Harrison’s magazine feature brought in several high-end clients, though I’ve been carefully dodging his dinner invitations. Between morning shifts here and evening events, my schedule is packed.
“Speaking of business,” Emily says casually, “Wild’s doing a private Jacksonville show next weekend. They need catering for the afterparty.”
My hands freeze on my apron strings. “No.”
“Lila—“
“I can’t, Emily. Please don’t ask me to.”
She sighs. “You can’t avoid him forever. Whatever happened between you two—“
“Nothing happened!” But even I can hear the lie in my voice because everything happened in that stairwell. Every brush of his lips, every intimate touch, changed everything.
And nothing at all. Because he’s still with Crystal, still trapped in whatever complicated mess makes up their relationship. And I’m still here, trying to build something real while pretending I don’t feel the ghost of his hands on my skin every time I closemy eyes.
“Fine,” Emily says softly. “I’ll find another caterer. But Lila? Sometimes, the important things are worth fighting for.”