“You’re such a nerd.” I grab his shirt and pull him into me, then stop as his lips are just inches from mine. I want him to take over. And he does, pressing me against the wall as he lowers his mouth to mine. His hands travel to the base of my skull. Then over the rest of me, sliding between my breasts to my waist. Effortlessly, he lifts me to the ledge, and there is nothing between my body and city streets below. My stomach bottoms out.
“Luke!” My whisper is hoarse. “Wait.”
“Hey.” His grip on me tightens. “I’ve got you, okay? Trust me.”
I nod; drop my face to meet his. Kiss him urgently. So hard my lips are burning like the rest of me.
“Elle,” he says roughly.
Almost in response, my legs part, and I draw him into me. He runs his palms over my calves and thighs, and I shiver at his touch. Hungrily, I search him back, feeling the heat of skin through his shirt. I clutch his belt buckle, and my hand finds the space beneath it. He’s hard, and inhales sharply the second I touch him.
“Fuck. I want to take you home right now,” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” I nod. “Okay. Let’s—”
“But I can’t.” His chest is still rising and falling quickly. He lifts me from the ledge and gives me a tight squeeze before releasing me. “I just… I think we should wait until we know each other a little better. Does that sound ridiculous?” For the first time all night, he looks away from me. Like he’s embarrassed.
“Of course not!” I rest my palms on his chest and lean into him. The steady beat of his heart is comforting. “Hey. It’s okay. I can wait.” I’m doing a terrible job at hiding my disappointment. Though in a way, the fact that Luke wants to wait is sweet. A reminder that he’s more than just some guy who wants to screw and be done with it. He wants to know me. He wants the kind of intimacy I can understand only in theory. It’s terrifying. Exhilarating.
“I know that might sound kind of weird. It’s just that I’ve jumped into things too fast before,” he says. “And I don’t want to do that with you.”
“Okay.” I play with the button on his shirt.
“And it’s not because you’re not incredibly hot. Because you’re seriously the sexist—”
“Luke!” I laugh. “It’s okay. I get it. It’s fine.”
“Okay,” he says sheepishly. “Shutting up now.”
“Good,” I joke. We turn and lean over the ledge side by side. Watch the miniature people in their dance, watch the glinting, flashing neon lights pulse in their perpetual rhythm.
“Okay,” Luke says after a while. “I hate to do this, but I should go.”
“What? Why?”
“For one thing, I don’t want to steal you from your friends for the whole night.” He traces my collarbone with his thumb. “And for another, I’m not sure my willpower is strong enough to spend the whole night with you without… spending the whole night with you.”
Something in my chest tightens. He’s right; I know we couldn’t spend the rest of the night this close to each other without giving in. I’m not strong enough. But God, he looks too good to let go.
“Say goodnight, Elle,” he says teasingly.
“Goodnight, Elle,” I groan.
“Hey, are you free tomorrow? Late afternoon? There’s a local musician I really like playing at this bar near my place. We could walk there. Dig up dinner afterward if you want.” It’s sweet, the way his words still seem tentative. Like he’s not sure I’ll say yes.
“Yeah. Sounds great.”
“Great.” He pulls me in for a long, soft kiss, sending shivers through my body all over again. “I’ll pick you up around 4. Have a good night.” He winds around the corner and is gone.
I turn back to the city below, the warm breeze tickling my cheeks and running its fingers through my hair. I beam down at the streets below, let the shuddery giddy feeling rattle its way through me.
“Screw it,” I murmur to the city below. If Luke Poulos wants to know the real me, I owe it to him to give him a chance. I still don’t know if I could ever tell him about my past, but does it matter? Maybe he could get to know the me that exists now. Isn’t that the real me?
Maybe he could love the new version of me. Maybe I could let him.
chapter fifteen
Elle,
David and I are heading back to the City today. God, I’m dreading the moment when he drops me off. The moment when I’ll step inside, and for a second, it will be quiet. And then she’ll drop something, or trip, or worse, starts screaming at me for some sin I’ve never committed. A reminder that some things—some people—aren’t ever going to change.