The Road Trip

• Twenty •

The day before, Luke and I had sex on his kitchen island. Then he watched a chick flick with me before we had sex on his couch as soon as the credits started rolling. He wanted to read a few more chapters, so I let him while I lay in bed with Lemon. Luke got two chapters in before he pushed Lemon out, saying he couldn't focus while I was lying on his bed in nothing but his T-shirt and knowing I didn't have any underwear on because my clothes were in the wash. We may or may not have messed around on top of the washing machine because Luke made another comment about how much he wanted to have a memory of me on every piece of furniture. Luke had only released me from his apartment that morning after he got back from his ten mile run and we went down on each other in the shower.

I was sore and still turning myself on thinking about it when he parked me down on a blanket after convincing me to come watch him play flag football.

"How do you have the energy after already running this morning?" I asked him.

"Endorphins," he replied, crouching down and nuzzling against my neck. "And you are giving me a lot of them." He reached into his gym bag and pulled out chips and chocolate. "I brought you snacks."

"Those don't go together," I laughed.

"Salty or sweet. I didn't know which one you'd be in the mood for."

Oh. I looked at his face as he set them in front of me then pulled out a water and a half tea half lemonade. My favorite—which he must have picked up on from our road trip because I'd never told him that. He was so sweet. And so thoughtful. He stood. And so big. I could see the outline of him through his navy athletic shorts.

The tips of my ears filled with heat as he winked at me before jogging off. I'd been so stunned by his body and his mind, I didn't get to ask him which position he played.

He greeted Robbie and a few guys before Robbie waved at me, which caused two of the other guys to turn to look at me. I gave him an insecure wave back.

Luke had a million friends, who I hadn't given a thought about—people I didn't know. I'd have to meet them and be friends with his friends. This wasn't our own little two-person island. The real world was way more complicated. I hoped he didn't think I was going to socialize with them after this. I wasn't prepared for that.

I smiled at three girls laying out a blanket to my right—all perfectly manicured, their hair straightened or curled, and wearing cute Saturday morning outfits. I looked down at my lap when I realized they could be friends with Luke and I had no idea. Maybe I'd have to hang out with them in the future, or they were his friends' girlfriends.

Turns out, Luke was a wide receiver—a good one. I shouldn't have been surprised, knowing his agility, focus, and height—and how flexible he was on a Pilates reformer.

After his second touchdown, I (and the girls next to me) noticed Natalie standing just outside the corner of the end zone cheering for Luke. She looked stunning, even from across the field. Her blonde hair was in beautiful curls that bounced up and down as she jumped and clapped.

But the girls didn't know who I was, nor did they seem to care.

"Natalie showed up!" one said, pointing over to where she was standing.

"She's trying way too hard," another laughed.

"Can you blame her? She never should have broken up with him."

"I know. She's so stupid. God, I mean just look at him."

All of them, along with me, watched Luke take off his shirt by the back of the neck and tip his head back while he drank from his water bottle. His yellow flags hung off of his hips, and he was glistening with sweat. I could count his abs from where I was sitting.