The Pull of Destiny (69 page)

I hugged him again and
watched as he shook hands with Luke. We walked him out of the restaurant and
watched as he got into a nondescript cab. Would I ever see him again?
Stop
that, Celsi, of course you will!

My abandonment issues were
rising and I made a valiant move to strike them down. I had something else to
deal with.
Or someone.
Namely Luke.

He was still standing next
to me, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he nervously gazed at me under his
bangs.

I turned on him, my eyes
brimming with tears that were filled with happy.
If that makes any sense.

“I can’t believe you- and
you didn’t tell me- my dad! You found my dad!” I spluttered, unable to form
coherent sentences, so thick was the emotion running through me. I had waited
to meet my dad for my whole life, and just as I was resigned to the fact that I
never would, Luke had to spring this on me.

“Look, CiCi- I have a
valid reason for doing this,” he started, sounding like he was getting ready to
defend himself. I stared at him, perplexed. Why? Then it came to me.
The
silly goose thinks I’m mad at him!
“I wasn’t trying to cause drama when I
went to see your aunt and ask her about your dad. And I just wanted to surprise
you by-.”

I almost shook him. “Luke,
I’m not mad at you!”

He stopped in mid ramble,
his eyes widening in relief. “You’re not?”

“No! I don’t even know how
to say thank you because I can’t find any words that- I’m so happy- I don’t
even know how to talk anymore!”

A slow smile spread over
Luke’s face as his eyes locked with mine. “Hey, you don’t have to say anything,
CiCi. You wished on 11.11, remember? I guess wishes
can
come true.”

Impulsively, I wrapped my
arms around him, squeezing so tight I think I heard him grunt.

“Thank you, Luke,” I
whispered in his ear, a sob rising out of my throat. Tears slid down my cheeks
as I cried with happiness.

He smoothed down my hair,
murmuring in my ear. “It’s okay, CiCi, it’s alright. It’s gonna be fine.” He
swallowed hard, his voice so low that I almost didn’t catch the next part. “I
love you.”

Pause.

I so did not hear that
right.

In fact, I was this close
to letting it go because I didn’t want to be that annoying person who kept
asking ‘what’ and find out that she hadn’t said anything even remotely close to
what I thought I heard.

But what if?

Snapping my head back, I
looked Luke right in the eye. He had the most serious, most vulnerable look on
his face as he looked back at me, his jaw set.

“...What?”

Slipping his hands onto my
shoulders, Luke drew me closer till our foreheads were touching. His forehead
was burning hot, but I couldn’t think about that right now. The only thing that
was going through my mind was ‘did he or did he not?’ I don’t know!

“I said, ‘I love you’.”
The corner of his lips twisted up in a lopsided grin. “Do you want me to shout
it from the rooftops too, or what?”

Are you pranking me?
I was totally flummoxed.
Am I being
punked?

I shook my head, trying to
organize my thoughts. Too much! Too soon!

“Luke. You can’t just say-
you shouldn’t just throw that around like that,” I said sternly as I looked up
at him. “You have to mean it.”

His grin grew wider and
his dimples popped into view as he replied, in a voice that was as sincere as
it gets, “I hardly
ever
say things I don’t mean. And I never play around
when it comes to something so serious. What makes you think I don’t mean it?”
He kissed me, his lips feather light on mine. “I’m constantly thinking about you.
I even dream about you. When you’re sad, I just want to make you happy and when
you’re happy, I just want to watch you smile. It’s actually kinda ridiculous,
and I hate that I’m being so corny about it, but it’s true. If that’s not love,
tell me what is.”

Code 10, man down.

The Astor Penthouse.

“Okay, we are officially
ready for cupcake mania, V 2!” Luke announced.

He was wearing a Jessica
Rabbit novelty apron, stirring a bowl of strawberry frosting as I mixed my bowl
of batter. We’d been working on our cupcakes for almost an hour now, throwing
out the first batch we had made because someone (
I’m not pointing fingers at
anyone but Luke
) put salt in the mixture instead of sugar. It was the
perfect way to spend an afternoon, just relaxing with my boyfriend.

Sigh
. Thinking that gave me tingles every
time.
My boyfriend.

Ever since the ‘ILY’
incident, we’d been spending as much time together as we could. No stress, no
drama, just pure fun. Just yesterday, we’d gone to see Disney on Ice with
Faith. And today, not wanting to be home alone (Hope and Faith had gone to
Brooklyn’s Children Museum and his dad was at work) Luke had called me up,
asking if I wanted to help him bake cupcakes for his neighbors. Unfortunately,
not much baking was happening.

I looked up at him,
giggling at the dusting of flour on the tip of his nose. “This batch will turn
out right if you don’t get the ingredients mixed up again.”

 “I predict that by the
time we’re done here, we shall go into the cupcake making business.”

Snorting derisively, I
said, “That’s only if your cupcakes are edible.”

“What’s that supposed to
mean?” Luke asked, a mock snarl curling up his top lip, bringing the sexy out.

“It’s supposed to mean can
you even cook?” I asked jokingly, sticking out my tongue at him playfully.

He nodded vehemently,
making a sad puppy dog expression. “Uh huh!”

I raised my eyebrows in a
classic ‘sure you’re right’ look and he pouted. “What?” I snickered.

“I’m so offended right
now,” he sulked, putting the icing on the counter and crossing his arms across
his chest. “You think I can’t cook?”

“Tell me what you
can
cook
and I’ll take it back,” I suggested playfully.

He started to count off of
his fingers. “I can boil a mean egg! If you want microwaved bacon, I make it
better than anyone in NYC. Two words- grilled cheese. Need I say more?”

I spluttered with laughter
as he talked, his words full of conviction. “Two words- master chef!”

He picked up his icing mix
and approached me, the spoon in his hand. “Try my frosting, then tell me it’s
not epic.”

“Okay,” I said, watching
as he dipped the spoon in the frosting and, a big smile on his face, held it
out to me. Just as I was about to scoop some off of the spoon with my finger,
Luke daubed a big dollop of frosting onto my nose.

“Luke!”

He chuckled, pleased with
himself. “That’s for not believing me when I told you I could cook.”

Pursing up my lips, I
unobtrusively slid my finger down my mixing spoon and quickly spread it onto
Luke’s cheek. “I still don’t,” I giggled.

A hot grin on his face,
Luke flicked some more icing at me. The drops landed on my Sponge Bob apron.
“I’m challenging you to a food fight,” he exclaimed.

I picked up a baking tin,
holding it up in front of my face. “Bring it.”

Luke flicked some batter
at me but it hit the baking tin. I hooted with triumph, peeking around my
shield. “Woot! Celsi one, Luke-.”

Just as I was about to say
‘zero’, Luke reached around my shield and smeared some frosting on my lips.

That’s what I get for
being cocky at the wrong time.

“Hahaha! Right on target.
Your move,” Luke said, winking cheekily at me.

“No fair,” I protested.
“You can’t just reach over my shield! What if I’d had a gun? I’d have shot
you!”

“No making up rules as you
go along,” Luke sang, throwing some more batter at me.

I dodged, hearing the mini
bullets ping against the baking tin. “It’s my prerogative,” I sang back,
reaching for my wooden spoon and scraping off a bit of batter. “Just as it’s my
prerogative to coat you with batter!” I was aiming for his cute face, but I
missed and the watery mixture got on his plain white t-shirt.
Oops
.
“Sorry!”

A mock growl rose from
Luke’s throat as he stared down at his t-shirt, then back at me. “Okay, that’s
it, it’s so on!”

I squealed as he started
to chase me around the kitchen, my sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor. He
cornered me near the counter, pushing me against the wall and pressing his body
against me. “I
said
sorry!”

“That’s not gonna cut it,”
Luke grinned evilly, his hands placed on the wall on either side of me. I was
blocked in.
Luke, you can take me prisoner any time!
“You’re gonna have
to show me that you’re sorry.”

“How?” I asked, looking up
at him innocently.

I gasped as his lips met
mine in a searing kiss, seductively dragging my bottom lip between his teeth
and pulling back. “I can think of a few ideas,” he whispered, his voice husky.

He kissed me again, his
hands leaving the wall to slide down to my hips. I shivered as he licked the
frosting off my lips, teasing me with his tongue. As I slowly kissed him back,
my hands grabbed fistfuls of his t-shirt, pulling him even closer to me. I let
out a soft, needy moan as, still kissing me, he lifted me up and sat me on the
counter. My arms slipped around his neck as I ran my fingers through his hair,
lost in the sensation of his tongue flicking against mine. He groaned into my
mouth as I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him towards me. “You’re
perfect,” he whispered, sucking on my bottom lip sensuously. He slid his warm
tongue into my mouth again, rolling it against mine. His hands slid under my
shirt, fingertips grazing my belly and sending heat all around my body.

Bliss.

We were so caught up in
our make out session that we didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late.

“Well, well, well.” We
sprang apart, and I stared aghast at Mr. Astor, who was leaning against the
stainless steel fridge watching us, an amused smile on his face. “You don’t see
scenes like this on Ace of Cakes.”

CHAPTER 28

my way or the
highway.

Celsi’s
Point of View

Luke was the
first one to react. Eyes narrowed distrustfully, he turned to face his dad.

“Aren't you
supposed to be at work?” he asked, the chilliness coming from his voice almost
tangible. My ears burned with shame as I slipped down from the counter,
suddenly wishing I was somewhere else.
Mars, maybe.
My eyes darted
around the kitchen and I cringed. Flour, splats of batter and frosting
everywhere. We had made
such
a mess. And for what? A few minutes of fun,
a little bit of pleasure?
This isn’t going to end well.

Mr. Astor
rolled his eyes sardonically. “I decided to come home early.” A patronizing
note in his voice, he added, “Is that a crime?”

Brushing
against me as he leaned against the counter (and making me jump slightly, but
nobody else needs to know that) Luke glowered at his dad and sullenly muttered,
“No.”

“And what a
surprise I got.” Mr. Astor grinned friendlily at in our direction, setting his
laptop case on a relatively clean part of the kitchen table. “Two teenagers
making out in my kitchen- that’s actually pretty tame by your standards, Luke.”
The sarcasm in his voice grew as his eyes twinkled. “But by all means, carry
on.”

Running a hand
through his hair, Luke said, “We were just wrapping – things up.”

His hands were
clenched into fists and I could feel him stiffen as his body bumped up against
my hip. Obviously, things still weren’t going well between him and his dad. My
heart went out to Luke as I stared at his smiling father.
Does the man not
have feelings, or what?

“Don’t stop on
my account,” Mr. Astor said expansively, waving a hand at Luke. “In my day, I
got caught doing things like that all the time.” He winked at us. “It’s nothing
to be embarrassed about.”

Heaving a
stressed sounding sigh, Luke shook his hair out of his eyes and said, “If you
say so.”

He sounded
mildly perplexed, like he wasn’t too sure where his dad was going with this. I
wasn’t sure, either.

 
Is he
pissed off?
It didn’t look that way, due to the big grin on his face. But
maybe the grin and gibing banter was just a prelude to his anger.