Page 14 of Falling Backwards (The Edge of Us #1)

After another hour, I still can’t quite believe we’re going along with Joy’s idea.

I spent a good couple minutes resisting in the bathroom. Scared though I was, the fact remained that Luke isn’t my favorite person, plus I was very sure there was no way he’d agree to help me even if I did ask. However, Joy held fast to our ibuprofen encounter; she swore it was proof we could get along if we had a mind to. She had real faith that there was a chance the plan could work—after all, we’d only need it to work for a little while. So I decided to trust her. Emma and Paxton did, too, after the former leveled serious brown eyes on me and made sure it was the option I wanted to explore.

All I needed was Luke.

I was so nervous to talk to him. So upset that I even felt like I had to.

Him not shutting me down was as much an insane relief as it was a surprise.

In the little phone booth area, I genuinely thought for a second that he was being a jerk about the whole thing, that he was going to dismiss my fear of Kyle and say I was overreacting. I would’ve loved to be overreacting, but I couldn’t shake my sharp unease, and because I couldn’t shake it, I didn’t want Luke to roll his eyes at me and tell me to quit being a drama queen. ‘The dude’s not following you, Magnolia,’ I didn’t want him to say. ‘The world doesn’t revolve around you. He’s just innocently living his life.’

But he hadn’t been responding that way at all. In my stressed state, I read him wrong.

Although I didn’t dwell on it, a small part of me wondered how many times I might have read him wrong in the past and just never got around to noticing.

In any case, I’m glad my desperation for a solution yielded some kind of result, because Kyle is still here. He hasn’t tried to talk to me again, but I swear I can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of my head every now and then.

My group has moved to one of the rounded corner booths; it’s bigger than the regular booth we were in, which allows all of us to sit together. I’m between Luke and Emma, who is next to Paxton, who would be next to Joy if she weren’t off doing some flirting of her own with a guy who sent a paid-for birthday drink to our table a little while ago.

So, lingering shock and nervousness aside, I’m slightly more comfortable than before. It helps to be this much farther from Kyle and instead be near Luke, whose presence is as weirdly reassuring as intended, even if it does make that half of my body feel extremely warm.

Things with us are still on the…inelegant…side. There’s no way for them not to be. This isn’t anything we dreamed we’d do together. We haven’t even sat this close to each other in forever. But we’re trying not to be obvious about it, and we’re helped along by things like drinks and friends who are supportive of our temporary truce.

In fact, it was oddly easy for the two of us to talk about the entire Kyle story.

I really can’t put into words how it has felt for Luke to take me seriously about this.

I was able to clarify that although I technically have seen Kyle five times in less than a week, the Mellow Burger one wasn’t his fault. The way he acted that day was what prickled at me: him knowing my name without me offering it, and him mentioning my spilled drink from the night before when I didn’t know he saw that, and then him grabbing my hand. Plus, of course, how I later found out he knew I was eating spicy fries and that he eavesdropped on us girls.

Luke was patient while I explained that and everything else. He said he thinks I should call the police once I’m home safe and see what they have to say. He doesn’t imagine there could be a downside to that since Kyle knows so many of the places I frequent—especially since I recalled him leaving Lucent the other day with, ‘I’ll see you soon, Maggie,’ and then last night happened, and now here he is tonight.

Every now and again, the way Luke is supporting me almost reminds me of how we used to—

“All right,”

he says measuredly, turning to me.

“is there any way you could not chew on your straw like that? Watching you do it is making my fucking teeth hurt.”

I pause mid-chew and cut a sharp look at him.

He raises an eyebrow at me, then cuts his own pointed look at my margarita.

The niceties had to weaken at some point, I guess.

And I guess I’d been chewing the straw out of distracted nervousness. It wasn’t intentional, unlike….

I take it out of my mouth.

“Well, guess what? My teeth hurt earlier when I sat here and watched you devour that entire bag of gummy worms.”

“That’s not really the same thing.”

“It sure isn’t, ’cause this straw isn’t made of sugar that’s gonna rot my teeth.”

He narrows his eyes.

“You don’t know anything about my dental hygiene, so let me tell you it’s perfectly fine. And it’s not like I eat gummy worms every single day.”

Paxton chimes in.

“Just every two or three days.”

Emma snickers with him, and I bite back an involuntary smile. Luke, however, sends his friend an appalled look.

That expression gets a quiet laugh out of me, honestly. I try to muffle it with the back of my hand, but Paxton still winks at me and Luke still turns grouchy blue eyes my way.

Handsome asshole.

“Laugh all you want,”

he invites me.

“but that straw is plastic, not something you’re supposed to eat.”

I look at him like he’s crazy.

“I’m not eating it. It’s not food.”

“Exactly, it’s not, so use it the way you’re supposed to!”

I mock him with.

“It’s not like I chew on my straws every single day! And why don’t you quit watching me do it if it’s irritating you so damn much?”

“Don’t you think that if it were easy to ignore, I would’ve done it already?”

I start to retort, but glitzy movement on the other side of the table distracts me. Joy sweeps down into the empty space next to Paxton, somehow managing not to spill her drink. I’m proud of her, really, for how careful she’s been in that pretty dress.

Next to me, Luke lets out a low huff of annoyance that I can’t help echoing.

Emma says.

“Hey, Joy. How’s it going with that dude?”

Joy smiles.

“Okay! We seem to have some things in common.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll see if he wants to sit with us in a few minutes. Would any of you mind?”

Luke and Paxton shake their heads.

Emma reminds her.

“It’s your birthday. Do what makes you happy.”

I nod my agreement.

“Well, being with you all makes me plenty happy! I’ll see how I feel in a little while.”

She grins at us, then drops her voice beneath the noise around us.

“But a fraction of the reason I came back was to tell Maggie and Luke that they kind of slipped back into their usual selves for a second there, and I noticed Kyle noticing. He literally perked up like he’d caught you in a lie.”

Just like that, I feel chilled, and the tone at our table shifts.

Emma scoffs.

Paxton says.

“Seriously?”

From the corner of my eye, I see Luke clenching and unclenching his fists on his thighs.

I can’t seem to do anything but continue breathing simply because I’m a living human being.

Emma lowers her voice as well.

“Are we sure we can’t just go over there and tell him to fuck off or else?”

Joy sends her a cautioning look, then sends me a sympathetic one.

“According to what we read online, yes, we’re sure. After someone like him has been refused, it isn’t a good idea to continue engaging with them if they keep coming around—especially not to retaliate. It’s best to take precautions and ignore the person and stay away.”

Emma smoothly cracks her knuckles.

“It’s pissing me off that he’s still sitting over there watching her. Get a goddamn life, man.”

I catch the twitch of the hand Luke has closest to me. I blink and it’s suddenly out of his lap and resting in the empty inches between his thigh and mine, almost touching me.

My stomach swoops hard.

“…have to do what we have to do, and that’s to not be risky.”

Joy sighs.

“So let’s just try to carry on, right? Keep minding our business and hoping he’ll get the picture?”

Emma grumbles, but she nods.

Paxton suggests.

“How about we order some snacks? Being hangry will only make things worse, eh?”

Joy is instantly on board. After a moment, Emma agrees and grabs the skinny menu book in the middle of the table. With a wry chuckle, she says.

“Let’s get something molten hot in case I decide I need to throw it in ol’ dude’s face.”

The other two laugh.

I’m on board with the food idea, too, in a way. Mostly my mind is stuck on Luke, who has just murmured my name where no one else could hear.

My stomach swoops again over his tone, though I can’t guess whether he’s going to say something normal to me or discreetly keep arguing about the straw thing.

With my gaze still slanted down to his hand, I murmur back, “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Actually, he doesn’t answer even after many moments.

He doesn’t do anything at all.

I know he’s got something on his mind, though. Not only did he start this low conversation, but some sort of tension is touching the air between us. The intensity of whatever he’s thinking is emanating from him—I don’t have to know what exactly it is to be aware of that.

I get ready to press him right as he says.

“Nevermind.”

My mouth has just opened, so I close it again. I move my eyes up to his face. He’s staring at the table, his brow furrowed.

“Nevermind,”

he repeats. His hand between our thighs moves onto his knee, and his other hand reaches for the menu our friends have just set down.

“You hungry? I like the pretzel bites with beer cheese dip.”

I nod.

“Yeah. So do I.”

For a second, I think he’s exhaled a small laugh through his nose, but his expression doesn’t seem amused.

Whatever, I guess. I don’t know why he’d find that funny anyway.

I add.

“If we’re getting pretzels, I need a side of mustard too.”

“Mustard.”

He sounds mildly curious.

“Okay. Whatever you want.”

Curious, indeed. His tone isn’t sarcastic or begrudging.

And I have to say that fact calms me a little bit more. Calms me in that weird way his presence has for the last short while.

Somehow, it even brings up the urge to make a joke.

On one hand, I want to ignore it because joking with Luke isn’t something I do anymore. Then again…well, the bickering we were doing a minute ago was kind of stupid, wasn’t it?

A lot of the bickering we do is stupid, something in me whispers.

I clear my throat, clear that thought away, and try to sound neither awkward nor derisive as I ask.

“Whatever I want, unless what I want is to chew on my straw?”

The words come out as lightly as they were supposed to.

Luke turns his eyes right onto mine, now curious and surprised.

My face feels too warm for me to hold his gaze for long. I turn my attention to my drink and carefully pick it up, trying not to let my hands shake from shyness and from how I’m certain Kyle is also staring at me again. Ignoring the straw altogether, I sip from the glass.

“Look at you,”

Luke remarks, once again where only I can hear.

I don’t know if he says it about the joke or my blush or the way I’m taking this drink.

Not caring to ask, I admit instead.

“It’s making my skin crawl to know Kyle hasn’t left yet.”

And once again, he doesn’t reply right away. Moment by moment, that tension from before creeps up anew.

He inhales slowly, and so do I.

“I’m sorry he’s bothering you,”

he tells me softly.

Softly.

Luke. Soft.

The half-stunned thoughts and his tone ring in my mind. Tingles dance over the side of my body that’s warm just from being close to him.

While I try to figure out what to say back, he reaches for his drink—and shifts even closer to me. His leg grazes mine.

The tingles overtake the rest of my body like wildfire. My heartbeat skips.

I’ve caught his gaze before I’ve even realized it.

This blue-eyed bastard shouldn’t be able to make my heart skip a beat two minutes after pissing me off.

“But you can relax,”

he goes on.

“This is as much of a problem as he’s gonna be tonight.”

His eyes aren’t quite as soft as his tone.

I’m left breathless by that as he looks away again—by how he’s making that assurance from his end, not from Kyle’s.

He’ll watch over me.

It doesn’t matter what else Kyle might try to do tonight. Luke will be between him and me.

My heart swells in my chest with…

…a lot of things.

For a lot of reasons.

After another few moments, I choose to focus on the gratitude.

Softly, too, I say, “Okay.”

He nods, then unexpectedly clinks his glass against mine in a, ‘Cheers,’ kind of way.

“Okay,”

he echoes.