Page 18 of His Secret Betrayal (Cedarwood Valley Duology #2)

Alek

“ A lek, please.”

It’s Monday morning, and still the encounter between Luke and me plays on a continuous loop in my mind.

Even as I arrive to work a full half-hour early, setting a steaming cup of coffee onto my desk, there’s a lightness in my chest. Lowering myself into my chair, I spin toward the window and lean back.

The sky is still dark, the gray shadows of mountaintops looming in the distance.

I hadn’t known dancing with Luke would be my kind of foreplay. The way his body had moved against mine had felt nothing short of sinfully delicious. My cock drooled precum the entire time I grinded up against his pert ass.

I tried to resist him for his own good—a half-assed attempt, but still. Of course, he knew exactly how to snap that tenuous thread of self-restraint, and he did so with expert precision.

I had been pleasantly surprised—thrilled, actually—to witness his normal sass transform into pure submissiveness when I touched him.

He had followed my directions without hesitation, eagerly even.

I had almost panicked when he put his hands on my shoulders, some part of me afraid he would feel the jagged edges of my scars and it would be all over.

Thankfully, he was already too lost to the pleasure to question why I made him put his hands on the wall.

God, he had been so needy when he was on the verge of coming.

Something about his insatiable curiosity, the demanding thrust of his hips, and those desperate little whines did it for me.

I had never called another man good boy a day in my life, had never even considered it.

But with my hand working Luke’s weeping cock, drinking in his beautiful responses and the way he gave himself over to the pleasure, the phrase popped into my head and refused to leave.

On a whim, I decided to take the chance, despite not knowing how he would respond to such a phrase.

A dreamy expression crossed his face as he practically melted into my touch, and I nearly came on the spot.

How much groveling would I have to do with Caleb if I fucked his best friend?

Luke made it pretty clear he was interested in a repeat performance, so what if I asked him out?

We could get to know each other and see if there’s anything here.

Maybe I could help him explore his sexuality and…

And then I remember the ugly web of scars along my back.

The co ntrol issues that have driven a wedge into my past relationships. The inevitable disappointment.

My smile begins to slip.

The office door clicks open and interrupts my thoughts, making my pulse kick up. I haven’t spoken to Luke since Friday, and the idea of seeing him now sends a thrill through me even as my stomach rolls with nerves. Will I get flirty, sassy Luke today, or does he regret what we did?

When I spin around in my chair, all traces of a smile vanish from my face when I spot the deep-purple bruise on his cheekbone.

There are dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders are slumped, and his gaze refuses to meet mine.

This is a version of Luke I haven’t seen before, this general air of… dejectedness.

“Who did that to you?” The words are out of my mouth before I have the chance to think them over.

If it weren’t for the bruise blooming across his cheek, I probably would have jumped to the conclusion that I did this.

But this isn’t a walk of shame; it’s clearly something else.

When Luke’s weary eyes blink at me, my chest tightens.

He looks utterly exhausted.

What can I do to fix it?

“Um, just a stupid bar fight. It was nothing. You should see the other guy’s face.” Luke plasters a fake smile on his face, but his dull eyes and the tightness around his mouth convey his true feelings.

I tilt my head. “A fight?”

His chuckle is forced. “Yeah. The parties I go to are pretty wild.”

I study him for a long moment, silently noting the way he averts his gaze.

Lies, lies, lies.

Clearly, he’s hiding something. But whatever it is, he doesn’t want to talk to me about it. What right do I have to push him for answers? No matter how badly I want to be his confidant, I haven’t earned that level of trust.

I reluctantly jerk my chin toward his computer. “I’ll load another assignment for practice into your work queue.”

And okay, he’s not the only liar in this room right now. His work last week was phenomenal, and I was going to give him a shot at a real customer order. But I don’t want to stress him out on top of an already shitty morning. I want him to take it easy today.

Luke nods, looking a little relieved as he trudges over to his computer.

As he powers the machine up, I notice he doesn’t have a tumbler full of orange juice like usual.

The sight of it always makes me want to curl my lips in distaste because I can’t imagine picking orange juice over coffee every morning.

But also, it’s kind of endearing. With his back to me, I make my way to the breakroom, grab an orange juice from the refrigerator, and deposit it on his desk.

His eyes widen, looking momentarily surprised. “T-Thanks.”

I merely nod, rubbing the back of my neck before backing away. Taking my seat again, I turn to my own computer and pretend to work while discreetly sneaking glances at Luke from the corner of my eye. He frowns, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks over the assignment I just sent him.

Something is wrong, but if he wants to pretend like everything is normal, then I’ll play along.

For now.

“You want me to redo it?” Luke glares at me over his shoulder, and I make sure to keep a blank expression.

He’s been moody and irritable all day. Instead of eating lunch with Finn like usual, he sat by himself in his car.

Then, when Maria asked him if he used her favorite coffee mug, he made a snappy remark about having no reason to steal her mug since he doesn’t drink dirt water.

A look of hurt flashed across her face, and I almost bit my tongue in half trying to remind myself he’s having a bad day.

Now we’re both irritable.

“It’s…not your best work,” I tell him.

He narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong with it?”

“You didn’t use all the elements I requested. Those colors also don’t complement each other well. Review the original instructions again, try some different color layouts, and maybe tweak the font. Then I’ll review it again, and if you’re still having trouble, we can redo it together,” I offer.

Practice assignment or not, I’m a perfectionist. I’m not letting him turn in subpar work, and this is a good learning opportunity.

He huffs. “This isn’t even a real assignment. Are you ever going to give me a real order, or am I just a pretend employee, too?”

I suck in a sharp breath from where I’m standing next to his desk and clench my jaw. That shimmer of irritation makes my blood heat. “What has gotten into you?” I ask quietly.

He crosses his arms. “I want a real assignment.”

I roll my eyes, turning back to my desk. “With the kind of mood you’re in today, you’re not getting one. I want you in the right headspace for your first real assignment.”

His laugh is disbelieving, and it raises my hackles. “That’s a bullshit way of saying I suck today, and we both know it. ”

“Redo the assignment,” I tell him, my voice low as my patience begins to run thin.

“Whatever,” he mumbles.

My head snaps up, my palms slamming down on the desk in front of me as I glare daggers at him. Anger bubbles up in my chest, my accusation spilling out before I have a chance to reel it back in. “I touch you once and now you think you can act any way you want to?” I snap.

Luke flinches as hurt flashes across his face so fast I almost think I imagine it. It’s there and gone within seconds, but it still makes me feel like shit. That hurt is quickly replaced by anger. His cheeks turn red as his eyes harden. “Not everything is about you!”

Shit.

My gaze snaps to his cheek, immediately finding the bruise that’s beginning to make me want to hit someone. I just don’t know who yet.

I take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. All my anger washes away like a receding tide, the blunt edges softening as I remember his attitude today isn’t about me, or Maria, or anybody here in the office.

“Tell me what this is about,” I softly request, my gaze inadvertently landing on his bruise again.

“You think just because I let you touch me once that now you’re privy to all my secrets?” he hisses.

Okay, ouch. I deserve that.

Luke tips his chin back, releasing a self-deprecating laugh. His eyes are wild as he stands up, chest heaving with so many emotions flickering across his face that I can’t pick out just one. Without another word, he begins walking towards the door.

“Luke, what secrets? Where are you going? ”

He yanks the door open, turning to look at me over his shoulder. My heart drops at the tremble in his lower lip, a suspicious sheen to his eyes.

“I can’t even tell my own brother, so why should I tell you? I guess you’ll just have to be one more person I disappoint,” he says, a slight wobble to his voice.

He rushes out the door, slamming it shut behind him and making the picture frames along the nearby wall rattle. I’m left to stare blankly at the closed door, my eyebrows furrowing as something in my stomach tightens, tightens, tightens. I clench my fist as a feeling of helplessness washes over me.

“What the fuck just happened?” I whisper into the empty room.

He clearly wants some time alone, so maybe it makes me a bastard to follow him out the door. But the pull to go after him is too strong to ignore. He’s hurting, and the idea of him being by himself right now feels wrong.

I didn’t make it to forty-three without learning one very invaluable lesson: follow your gut instincts.

My gut is telling me Luke needs somebody right now.

I just hope he lets me in.