The Fluke

19 - Jules

You know those moments in life that knock the wind out of you like someone has just hit you square on the chest? Sometimes it's a great moment, like when Isaac handed me the proposal for my own show. Or when I unexpectedly won a huge grant for college because my photography teacher submitted my work on my behalf without telling me.

Other times, it's a moment so out of left field and unwanted that the only way to describe how it feels is to compare it to absolute disquietude.

This whole week had seemingly been sprinkled with the latter. Too many unpleasant and unexpected surprises. I thought that those moments were going to be behind us. I thought that was the whole point of tonight. But as I read those six words written on that card, for what had to be the umpteenth time my chest feels like someone has hit the bullseye. Again.

I watch as Luke reads the card. I hope to see surprise or confusion, but there isn't any. He knows exactly what the card means, which tells me there is something else that he hasn't told me.

Luke scrubs his face with both of his hands. He doesn't speak. Once he drops his hands from his face, he leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and grabbing both of my hands with his.

"I know what you're thinking," he says with a shake of his head. "More secrets, more shit I haven't told you. But I swear, just like the rest of it, this isn't what it sounds like. I hope."

I don't speak. I'm not going to placate him until I know exactly what the hell the truth about Seattle really is. My mind is reeling.

Luke drops my hands and gives me a little space. The expression on his face is defeated but earnest.

"The night we spent together in Seattle... I know you think we slept together. And we did. But that's all we did."

I suck in a breath.

"What do you mean that's all we did?" I ask, my voice surprisingly steady. "All we did was sleep?"

He nods, and I watch as his Adam's apple bobs when he takes a deep breath.

"But I woke up without my clothes on, in bed next to you. I mean, I was wearing your shirt..." I stare into his eyes, my heart rate picking up speed from a torturous sprint to a full on gallop.

He nods again. "I don't know how much you remember, but I swear I didn't touch you." He leans in again, putting his face close to mine but not touching me. "Believe me, I wanted to. But I guess you were more drunk than you thought and shortly after we got inside my place, you were pretty much incoherent. There was no way I was going to take advantage of you."

I'm shocked. Clearly. I don't say anything, and he looks worried but he carries on filling in the blanks.

"You did get undressed. Or you tried. That's why you were wearing my shirt. I convinced you to put it on and then you basically... immediately passed out. So I put you in my bed and I stayed with you to make sure you were alright through the night."

To say I'm stunned is an understatement. Capital S. Stunned.

"We didn't have sex?" I ask.

"Definitely not."

"So there was no black out sexcapade?"

A brief look of amusement crosses his face before he shakes his head. "No black out sexcapade."

So many thoughts are swirling in my brain. My stomach is doing excited little flips. My galloping heart rate has shifted from running in fear to bouncing in anticipation.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"'Cause I'm a fucking idiot? I don't know. You were so freaked out to see me and I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you about it once you'd adjusted to the idea that I was Spencer's friend, I guess."