Page 27 of The Shift Between Us (Covewood #2)

I don’t understand why my stomach is twisting, why butterflies are taking flight again.

This is Luke! My best friend since eighth grade.

But also not. He feels like a version of Luke that I’ve not met yet.

A Luke that part of me is curious to discover.

Just part of me. The other part is screaming at me to steal his car and drive as fast as I can back to Covewood.

I take a deep, relieving breath once Luke slips on a white T-shirt that does nothing to hide his attractiveness, but it’s better than exposing so much skin.

He looks over at me, one side of his mouth hitching higher than the other, and before I can decipher why my heart skips a beat, I’m rushing past him and into the bathroom.

“My turn for a shower,” is all I say before I slip inside.

I take a cold shower. I hate them, but I must punish myself for allowing these feelings to confuse me. I can’t want Luke. I just want whatever he has been doing this evening. I miss being in a relationship and feeling wanted. I miss having someone who looks at me like I'm worth something.

That’s all this is.

I take my time putting on my skincare products, praying that Luke will roll over and be asleep before I enter the room. I’m scared that by fake dating each other, the boundaries between us will fade, and I don’t know what that would mean for us. He’s not worth risking.

When I exit the bathroom, Luke is leaning back against the bed frame with one of his arms behind his head, making his bicep look bigger, and my goodness this is going to haunt me for the rest of the night.

His stubbled throat bobs in a swallow, and of course my gaze dips to follow the movement, cataloging the sharp line of his jaw, the fullness of his lower lip.

Things I’ve not allowed myself to pay too much attention to before.

A smile kicks up one corner of Luke’s mouth once he catches me staring. “Have you always taken such a long time to get ready for bed? ”

I shrug a shoulder, slowly walking toward the bed, approaching it with caution. “I have a very thorough skincare routine.”

I pull back the covers and slowly slip my legs into the silky sheets.

As I bring the comforter toward my chest, Luke’s spicy manly scent is wrapped around me tighter than this blanket.

Shew, why is this such a struggle for me right now.

Luke looks completely unfazed about sharing a bed with me this weekend, while I’m over here internally freaking out.

“Is that why you have so many freckles?”

I scoff at him. He rolls his head across the floral-printed pillowcase, a smile stretching his lips, those dimples peeking out on his cheeks.

“Hush! You know I’m self-conscious about my freckles.” I press my lips together to hold back a grin. I’m not really self-conscious. I actually like my freckles, especially since women are having them tattooed onto their face. I appreciate their uniqueness. I just like giving him a hard time.

“You have zero reasons to ever feel self-conscious about yourself.” There’s something in the way Luke looks at me—like I’m worth noticing.

It makes heat rise on my cheeks, and I have to look away. I grab my phone, thankful for a distraction, as I shift through my notifications. I laugh as I open up the text thread from Zane.

Zane

It seems like someone taught Annabelle that if she tossed her squishy toys onto the ceiling, they would stick and fall randomly throughout the day .

And I know that someone was you.

I kept waking up last night to them raining down on me because she tossed six of them onto my bedroom ceiling yesterday while she was at my house. I finally figured out what was going on after the third one dropped onto my face.

Thanks to you, I’m exhausted this morning. And just so you know, this means war.

“What’s so funny?” Luke asks, leaning toward me, his chin only inches from touching my shoulder.

I turn my phone screen toward him, allowing him to read the texts, and a grin takes over his face before he says, “She’s amazing.”

“Me, you, and Zane always seem to teach her how to get in trouble,” I admit, and he shakes his head at me, pushing himself into a seated position. “But you’re the one who teaches her how to avoid the consequences with those ‘get out of jail free’ cards you give her all the time.”

Luke lets out a husky laugh, the sound slowly mending the pieces of my broken heart. It flows like hot chocolate through my chest.

“Ryland doesn’t let me give those to her anymore.” He stands up and walks over to the television. “I brought my Nintendo Switch. Want to play a few rounds of Mario Kart?”

I smile at the idea because it’s something that feels like old times—like before I had this secret attraction growing inside of me.

Our relationship was much simpler when it wasn’t there.

When I didn’t want to know how his skin would feel under my palms or how his lips might feel pressed against mine.

Don’t let your mind go there, Olivia!

“Sure. But don’t think I’m going to take it easy on you just because this is a stressful weekend for you.”

He looks over his shoulder at me, grinning, one side higher than the other, and my breath hitches. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”