My heart starts to pound and my mind races. What is happening? Where did Mike go? Why is Luke involved? Is Mike okay? Did I just get stood up in the middle of a date?
I blink at Luke. I turn back to the table set before me. Our untouched meals sit, no longer steaming, still waiting to be eaten. My eyes rest on my half-finished wine glass. No use wasting that, at least. I pick up the glass and knock it back in one long swallow. Keeping it classy in front of Luke has become my specialty.
He pulls out his wallet and leaves a stack of bills on the table before pulling my chair back. I look up and catch a surprised look on the waitress' face. My cheeks redden in embarrassment. I walked in with one man and I'm walking out with another, who just paid the bill for a meal I never even got to eat. I can't comprehend what’s happening right now but I'm more than happy to get out of here and figure it out without an audience.
I slide my phone off the table as I stand, sneaking a glance around. The waitress has busied herself with a table. No one is looking at me, actually. Except a chubby blonde baby in the corner. She's definitely staring at me. Nosy baby.
Luke already has my jacket in his hands. I slide my purse over a shoulder and start walking towards the front. My cell is still clutched in my hand. I flick it alive as I walk and glance at the screen. Maybe Mike tried to reach me with some kind of explanation, but the screen is blank. No new alerts. Do I have a signal? Yes. I open the last text conversation between Mike and I. Maybe there's a text I missed? No. I'm in the lobby, was the last message he sent me, ninety minutes ago.
I weave my way through the restaurant to the door, knowing Luke is right behind me. There's a mass of people standing around the front waiting on tables. I glance around, still expecting to see Mike, asking me why I'm leaving.
Maybe he's outside smoking. He doesn't smoke. But it would still make more sense than him just disappearing. I'm racking my brain trying to make sense of this. We were having a good time. The evening was going well. I was a sure thing, dammit! He knew I was going home with him.
I know he didn't chicken out. He didn't turn gay and run out of here. It's not like that could possibly happen to me twice.
We arrive at the restaurant door and Luke reaches around me to open it. His shirt sleeves are pushed up to the elbow and I notice the muscles in his forearm as he pulls the door back, ushering me through. My mind flashes to an hour ago when Mike held the same door open for me. When did this night go so terribly wrong?
The cool air outside awakens me from my shocked stupor. The sidewalk is busy. I take a step out of the way, stopping in front of the window display of the closed shop next door. I shiver and start to wrap my arms around myself to ward off the evening chill. Luke stops directly in front of me and holds up the right sleeve of my jacket, silently instructing me to push my arm through before repeating the gesture with my left.
He pulls the jacket over my shoulders and tugs it closed. The action makes me feel small, like a child. He is standing so close I can make out the tiny fibers of his gray sweater and the scent of his aftershave. He cups my jaw and tilts my head back to meet his gaze.
"You are never seeing that asshole again. Do you understand me, Sophie?"
Chapter 12
My rage is instantaneous. I place both hands on Luke's chest and shove, only succeeding in dislodging his hand from my face. He doesn't move an inch.
"You're the reason my date disappeared?" I seethe. "What gives you the right?" My heart is beating so fast, my shock and anger an adrenaline rush. Luke is silent, staring at me like I'm a toddler having a tantrum over a denied toy.
Oh, God. I cringe. "I do not have a daddy fetish, you sick fuck!" I hiss at him.
Luke rubs a hand over his face and mutters, "Jesus," before wrapping his hand around my upper arm and physically hauling me towards the street.
He opens the passenger side door of a sleek black sports car parked on the street and has me seated inside before I can object. The door slams shut with barely a sound and I'm surrounded in luxury leather and trim.
Luke slides in next to me, starting the engine and fastening his seatbelt in one smooth movement before glancing at me. "I'll assume since you no longer need a booster seat you can fasten yourself." His eyes flick to my unfastened seatbelt.
Asshole. I yank the seatbelt with more vigor than necessary and jam it into the buckle. Luke merges the car onto Chestnut heading east. We drive in silence before taking a right onto 38th Street.
"You live on campus, correct?" he asks, breaking the silence.
He really is taking me home. This isn't some alpha-male power play that ends up with me in his bed.
"I was going to sleep with him," I say quietly, not answering his question. "I have your stupid condoms in my purse." I glance at him. Luke's silent, his eyes on the road. I turn my head away and watch the landscape slide past. "It's my choice who I sleep with, Dr. Miller. I'm not sure why you even gave me a bagful of condoms if you're just going to cockblock me from using them."
"Don't call me Dr. Miller."
That's his response? I turn back to look at him. "What did you say to my date, Luke?"
Luke glances at me before refocusing on the road. "I told him I’d drive you home.”
"Why?" I'm confused. “I don’t understand.”
Luke glances at me briefly. "It's not important. He's an asshole, Sophie. You deserve better."
"Why?” I demand.
We're nearing campus now and the speed limit drops. The interior of the car is quiet, the ride smooth.
"He was outside on the phone telling his buddy that if he couldn’t talk you into making a sex tape tonight he had another girl lined up for later.”
"Oh." I need to process that.
"Are you okay?" We're at a stoplight. He's looking at me. The tiny lines around his eyes are creased in concern. I stare back for a second before I erupt, louder than necessary in the silent car.
"I can't believe I waxed for that jerk!"
Luke looks taken aback as the car behind us honks. The light is green.
"I didn't even do it myself! Because apparently waxing yourself is just not done. Did you know that, Luke? I paid someone to give me a Brazilian wax. Do you know how embarrassing that is? To be spread naked on a table in front of a complete stranger? Do you? Wait." I throw my hands up in surrender. "Of course you do. You're a gynecologist. You see naked women in embarrassing positions all day long."