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* * *

LUKE PARDINI CAUGHT IN FOOTBALL MATCH BRAWL

Under the bold headline was a rather impressive photo of Luke clocking the West Ham supporter with a terrific right hook.

Years of boozing finally seems to be catching up to young Luke Pardini, as he was caught fighting a West Ham supporter earlier today at Boleyn Ground.

Not wanting to read anymore, I set down Brandon’s smart phone. Luke leaned back into his chair and his cheeks filled with air, looking like he was past caring about anything at all. A small bruise bloomed on his cheek, but I managed to cover most of the damage using my makeup.

I didn’t forget about what happened earlier. I could barely pay attention to the conversation; my mind kept obsessing over how amazing Luke’s tongue had felt and how close we had come towards really hot sex. I felt my chest burn in precisely the same area where his lips had sucked my breast. I clenched my fists under the table.

Luke gave no impression that he was thinking of the same thing. He raised an eyebrow at me, probably wondering why I was staring at him.

“Whatever happens, happens,” he said dully as the waiter set down three dripping mugs of cider in front of us.

“Cheers,” Brandon said to the waiter. He swiveled his concerned gaze to Luke, who picked up his mug and gulped it down.

I looked down at the golden liquid and took a sip. It was wonderfully crisp and light, like apple juice but not as sweet, with a slight kick of alcohol.
This will go great with the pie.
We were in a tavern in London that apparently made great savory pies. I had the impression that this was one of Luke’s favorite spots to eat in London, and that Brandon was on a mission to cheer him up.

It’s time to change tact.
“How did you two become friends?”

A slow smile spread across Brandon’s face. “Well, we went to the same boarding school. We were in the same year and both of us had an affinity for Pokémon cards. We used to play all the time.”

I snorted into my cider and even Luke smiled apologetically. “That’s so weird. I did the same thing with my best friend, Natalie. We didn’t have the cards, though. We just played on our Gameboys.”

“We also played Dungeons and Dragons.”

This time, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “Oh my God. That’s so nerdy.” I gave Luke a playful swat on his leg. “This is the kind of juicy gossip I would expect on a tabloid. It’s a lot more shocking than reading about you punching out someone. Dungeons and Dragons!”

He gave me a thin smile and zeroed in on me. “How did you both meet?”

My insides froze as I tried not to glance at Luke.
Well, shit.
We had never come up with a rehearsed plan and my brain moved rapidly, trying to think of a quick, believable lie.
Fuck!

“It was a support group,” I blurted. “F—for people with abusive parents.”

A stunned silence followed my words and my face radiated heat.
Oh, God. Why did I say that?
I clutched Luke’s hand under the table and winced at the force of his fingers wrapped around my palm. I desperately hoped that my utter fear would be seen as humiliation from admitting something so private.
Luke’s going to kill me.

Brandon was a gentleman to his core. If he felt any sort of stunned disbelief, he kept it to himself. Nothing showed on his face except polite interest. “That’s really, well—”

“Yeah,” I said too quickly. “We just started talking and we realized that we had so much in common.” I gave Luke a quick glance. He wore an expression appropriate to being clubbed over the head. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you like to keep these things private, but I figured that since Brandon was an old friend, it would be fine.”

“It is fine,” he said in a voice that implied otherwise.

I grimaced at Brandon, who almost looked sorry for me. “I just don’t know what to tell people when they ask, you know? I’m just a normal person from the Bay Area. Lots of people look at me and him and they don’t really get it.”

Luke stood up abruptly and my hand slipped from his grasp. He gave me one look of extreme disapproval before announcing that he was going to the loo.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered as Luke stormed from the table and I hid myself in my hands. “He’s going to be so mad at me.”

Brandon awkwardly patted me on the back, but when I looked up his face was full of sympathy for me. The pain twisting my guts loosened slightly.

“Luke’s a pretty private person, but I’m really glad he’s going to this support group with you. He really needs it. Don’t tell him I said that,” he added.

“No, of course not.” Guilt squirmed inside me. Even his friends could see how badly his father was tormenting him.

“He’s always been a great friend, but he’s never really been very happy. It’s hard to when you have a dad like his.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be talking to Brandon like this, but I couldn’t resist. “Maybe it runs in the family,” I said, thinking of his mother’s suicide.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just glad he has someone who has gone through the same thing. He’s my best mate and I want him to be happy. I’m sorry if I came off a bit standoffish when we first met; I wasn’t sure about you. A lot of girls are usually only with him for the money, but you’re not like any of the girls he’s been with.”

The guilty feeling in my stomach doubled and I half-heartedly returned his beaming smile.
I am with him for the money—sort of.
I didn’t like lying to him, and I battled an overwhelming urge to confess and tell him the whole truth.
He wouldn’t tell anyone.
My fingers moved restlessly around the glass mug.
Luke would be very upset.
I stamped down on my urge to tell Brandon and looked down. For the first time, I felt really guilty about this whole arrangement. How many people would I have to lie to? I hoped that they weren’t as nice as Brandon.

“What’s his father like?”

“I’ve only seen him a few times, really. To me, he seemed polite. Maybe a bit cold. That’s quite normal, though.  I know everything about him through what Luke has told me, and he has told me some terrible things. It’s not just him, though. It’s the cousins and his uncle. They all want a piece of Luke’s inheritance and they’ll do anything to get it.”

My fingers were white around the handle of the mug. “Can’t he get power of attorney over his father?”

Brandon shook his head.

What a mess,
I thought. Part of me wondered whether it would be such a horrible thing if Luke’s father wrote him out of his will. Sure, he’d lose his inheritance, but didn’t he have a great deal of money in his bank account already? Didn’t he have millions of dollars worth of property? How many millions does one need, anyways? At least he’d be out of his father’s influence for good, and he would never have to stress about his family trying to usurp his inheritance.

“Would it be the worst thing in the world if he lost it? Wouldn’t it be good to be out of his father’s hair once and for all?”

He stared at me with a shocked expression as if I had suggested that we boil Luke’s head. “What—give up his legacy? Are you mad?”

I shrugged and my face went a bit pink. “It’s just—I would be happy with a million dollars. Why does anyone really need that much money?”

“It’s not about the money.”

Bullshit.
I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s totally about the money. Look, I understand. Losing that kind of money would make anyone crazy.”

“It’s not about the money. It’s his inheritance. He deserves it. He’s earned it. The money might go to people who don’t deserve it, who aren’t even affiliated with the company at all.”

Despite his assurances to the opposite, I still didn’t think Luke would be as motivated if his inheritance was a few thousand dollars. How does one earn five billion dollars?
You can’t.
Mr. Pardini could do whatever he wanted with his money. Still, it was an asshole move to deliberately shove your only son out, especially when he had worked so hard his whole life for his father’s approval.

Hell, who am I kidding? He does deserve it.
Luke worked his whole life expecting to take his father’s mantle. To have it ripped out of his hands when this line of work was the only one he knew would be downright cruel.

At that moment, Luke decided to rejoin us at the table and I sat tight-lipped, avoiding his gaze. The waitress brought us three steaming pies surrounded by mashed potatoes and a moat of gravy and I soon forgot everything I was worried about. Brandon laughed at me as I sighed in ecstasy with each bite. The steak and ale pie was dripping with decadence; the meat had been slow-cooked for hours so that it fell apart and melted in my mouth. The gravy mingling with the mustard seed mashed potatoes was delicious and I devoured it quickly, burning my tongue in the process. After we finished, we sat for a while and enjoyed the peace of a warm, full belly. Brandon patted his full stomach and stood up to leave.

“Should probably get going.”

“I hope I see you again,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Likewise.”

I don’t know why, but I felt as though I made a lifelong friend. I couldn’t say why I thought this, but we had reached a sort of mutual understanding through both of our attempts to help Luke. I
did
want to help him in any way I could, even if there wasn’t any money involved.

Luke stepped forward to grasp Brandon in a one-armed hug and then he turned to me as Brandon left the pub.

I couldn’t read his face. “Luke, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know what to say—”

“Don’t be sorry. That was brilliant, even if it was a bit mortifying.”

My cheeks flushed at his praise and they burned even brighter when he smiled at me.

* * *

Over the next couple weeks, Luke made a point to avoid staying too long with me in the same room and I was left alone for hours while he went to work. It wasn’t
too
terrible. I used the money I earned to travel across England, but it was quite lonely. I visited York by train, refusing to accept Luke’s offers of a hired car to take me there. I visited York Minster Abbey and marveled at the Gothic splendor. I climbed the abbey’s spiral staircase—hundreds of stairs that led to a narrow passage along the abbey’s wall, to another series of steps that finally brought me to the roof. The view was fantastic; I could see the whole town and the castle walls sprawling around the town, encasing hundreds of red-thatched roofs and neat trees. When I left the abbey, I just walked around the medieval town and climbed the ramparts, wishing that I had someone—anyone to experience it with.

On the weekends, Luke and I went out together on dates. We kissed in front of paparazzi, we made out in park benches, and we took trains to Bath, Oxford, to the Lake District. The sexual tension between us was as taut as a tightrope, trembling, ready to snap. It all felt so damn real, but every time we returned to the hotel, Luke acted cold and distant. He separated himself from me the moment we stepped inside, as though he couldn’t wait to be rid of me.

There was an aching hole inside my chest. Even though I was traveling the UK and doing the things I always wanted to, I was absolutely miserable. I no longer enjoyed going out with him—he made me feel even lonelier than I did when I walked alone.

There were times when I thought Luke could sense my simmering emotions. I dropped his hand before we entered the hotel and Luke gave me a sidelong glance, which I ignored. I entered the hotel room and watched him check his phone. I gazed at his hands, lips, and face. I was always holding his hand, feeling his gentle caresses—I felt his body all the time, and yet I longed for him because I knew that his heart wasn’t really into it. He was just going through the motions. Whenever he touched me, it was like a solar flare in my body. I was paralyzed and giddy, and then he would push me aside the moment we were alone and I felt ugly. Unwanted. I was enamored with him, but he could care less.

I would never let him see how upset I was. My insides were bursting with the need to tell him how I felt.
Just tell him.
You have nothing to lose.

I closed my eyes. “Luke?”

“Hm?”

“I can’t take this anymore.” I looked up as the elevator lights beamed with the sixth floor.

I opened my eyes again while Luke looked at me with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?”

Luke sucked in his breath as I closed in on him. I was close enough to see the vein jumping in his throat.

“I can’t go on kissing you every day and acting like it means nothing to me. I want you. I have feelings for you. I can’t just switch them off, it’s driving me crazy.”

He finally looked up from his phone, his mouth parted. “Jessica, I’m just—”

Sadness billowed around me like a cloud. I turned away from him and faced the wall. “Fine.”

A heavy weight settled on my shoulder. His abdomen bumped into my back and I tried to stamp down the swell inside my heart. His fingers brushed aside the strands of hair on my naked shoulder, and just that was enough to make the heat between my legs blaze into a forest fire.

“You never let me finish,” he breathed.

I turned around and he looked at me with a lopsided smirk. I hated that. He bent his head. His hands fell on my head and his lips seared against mine in a slow, long kiss. I moaned into him and his tongue slipped inside, flicking my tongue as if his head was between my legs. As I imagined that, my hands slid around his back and clenched over his ass.

“Is this what you want?” he asked in a heated whisper when he broke the kiss.

I glared at him, angry with him and at myself for allowing him to get to me so easily. “Don’t toy with me.”

“I’m not toying with you. Do you think this is easy for me?”

My cheeks burned as he grabbed my breast and pinched my nipple. “You make me feel lonely. Like I’m unwanted. Can’t we be friends, at least?”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to keep my distance.”

He didn’t seem to care about distance anymore. I gasped as he unzipped my pants and pulled my panties down. “Luke! They might be recording—we’re in an elevator for crissakes.” I looked at him in amazement. What had I done to get him so excited?