A Sensitive Arrangement

Chapter 21

Once Luke had pulled the car into park and cut the engine, I rushed to get my own door this time, not wanting our hands to be separated for longer than they had to be. But as he came around to meet me, he didn't reach out as I had expected him to. Instead, he gently placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me into the diner. And somehow that felt even better.

The restaurant was much busier than I would have assumed at ten o'clock on a Sunday night. But I guess time really had no meaning during the week between Christmas and New Years.

The hostess quickly let us know it would be a five minute wait. Luke looked at me, as if to ask if that was okay, even though five minutes was nothing. I'd probably wait forever as long as he kept his hand where it was, resting on my back, heating my insides with a warm feeling that I could only equate to cotton candy. When she asked for his name, he gave it. Luke Benson. It suited him. He must have noticed my smile because his face scrunched into a look of curiosity.

"I didn't know your full name until now. It suits you." I laughed. Okay, maybe it was more of a giggle.

"Do I get to know yours?" He requested, his tone implying it was the most important piece of information in the world. I panicked for a split second. It's not as if Watson was a household name like Callaway, not since Dad died anyway. But some people still knew it. I decided he was going to find out eventually, it might as well be now.

"Watson."

"Alice Watson. I like it. It sounds very proper." I tried to hide my cringe of disappointment as much as I could. Proper was normally synonymous with rich, or worse, stuck up.

Apparently I wasn't very good at concealing my inner monologue, because he immediately apologized. "Sorry, I didn't mean... It's a good thing. I just meant, well it matches how smart you obviously are."

My mask immediately dissolved into a giant goofy grin. I had no idea what to say. Luckily, I didn't have to think too hard because the waitress called his name and soon he was guiding me to our booth, following her lead.

As we slid into opposite sides of the table, I found myself missing the warmth of his hand on my back. But he quickly amended the situation by reaching for my hand across the table, almost as if it were instinctual, like muscle memory. Which was silly, because we had only started holding hands a few hours ago. But already my muscles felt like they knew his.

"Have you been here before?" He asked, reading through the menu. I was tempted to tell him that even rich teenagers crave greasy hamburgers and pancakes when they've had too much to drink. Not that I'd ever been drunk, but I'd been Olivia's designated decider while she was. More than once. Everyone needs a sober friend to make sure they don't get themselves into too much trouble. That was my job. Not exactly the most glamorous role to have, but it suited me.

It's not like I had told Luke I was rich. I think he probably knew though. Based on the school I attend and the car Ella was driving. But he didn't ask and I didn't tell.

"Once or twice." Was all I ended up sharing, hoping he wouldn't take offense to my lack of detail.

Almost as soon as I had settled on my regular cheeseburger, fries, and strawberry milkshake my phone buzzed. I considered ignoring it but I should probably just make sure it wasn't Max or Ella. It was getting a little late. We didn't really have a set curfew as long as we promised to keep the lines of communication open.

It was actually from Olivia.

Do you know what Luke's tongue tastes like yet? If not, you better get on that, or I'm locking you out of the house tonight.

"More impressive friends?" I heard Luke ask, he had a look of playful amusement on his face when I glanced up at him.

"You could say that." I admitted.