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The spatula clatters to the counter. I’m moving before I realize it, launching myself across the kitchen into his arms. He catches me easily, lifting me off my feet as his mouth finds mine.
The kiss is electric, passionate, and everything we’ve been yearning for since this started. His hands span my waist as he presses me against the counter, and I thread my fingers through his hair, drawing him closer. He tastes like coffee andevery dream I’ve been afraid to voice. When he groans into my mouth, heat pools low in my belly.
Then suddenly, he’s pulling away, putting space between us. The loss of contact leaves me cold.
“Luke?” I hate how small my voice sounds.
He runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up in ways that would be adorable if he didn’t look so troubled. “We need to talk about what’s coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“The press.” He starts pacing, his movements tightly controlled. “It’s already starting. The media will get hold of this story. The paparazzi will have a field day.”
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly conscious of my messy appearance. “How bad?”
“They’ll focus on Marcus first, then my broken engagement to Crystal.’” His laugh is bitter. “But sooner or later, they’ll find out about us. They’re going to follow you, dig into your life, try to make this into something scandalous. Your whole world is about to change. Everything you do will be photographed andanalyzed.”
“Luke—“
“You’ll have no privacy. They’ll tell stories about you and speculate on how you came between Crystal and me. They won’t care that none of it’s true.”
“Stop.” I move toward him, but he backs away.
“Lila, you deserve to know what you’re getting into. This isn’t just dating a guy in a band anymore. This is—“
“This is you trying to protect me.” I close the distance between us, refusing to let him retreat. “But I’m not scared.”
He stares down at me, conflict written across his handsome face. “You should be.”
“Why? Because some photographers might follow me? Because people might say mean things?” I reach up, cupping his cheek. “I can survive gossip, Luke.”
“I should have waited—should have found a better way to handle this.” His hand covers mine. “The last thing I want is to see you hurt.”
“You could only hurt me by pushing me away.”
Something breaks in his expression. His arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest. I breathe in his scent as his chin rests on top of my head.
“I’m not good at this,” he admits quietly.
“At what?”
“Letting someone else be strong for me.”
I smile against his shirt. “Good thing I have plenty of practice being stubborn.”
His laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, I noticed that.” He pulls back just enough to look at me. “You’ve got flour on your nose.”
“Hazard of stress baking.”
His thumb brushes my nose, gently wiping away the flour. The gentle touch sends shivers down my spine. “Those chocolate chip cookies for me?”
“Maybe.”
“And what’s in the oven now?”
“Brown butter snickerdoodles. New recipe.”
His eyes darken. “You know what your baking does to me.”