Strangers To Lovers

Chapter Seventeen

After the uncomfortable encounter with Luke’s mother, I found it impossible to sit still. My mind was racing with everything that had happened. I kept pacing the kitchen, running my fingers through my hair, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in my stomach. Every so often, I’d catch my reflection in the glass wall of the living room, frowning at the woman staring back at me. It didn’t help that I had checked my phone over a hundred times, dreading the message I was certain would come.

And then it did.

The text from Luke hit my phone like a bombshell: “We need to talk. Please leave my place before I get back.”

My heart sank. I knew his mother had something to do with this, but to see it spelled out so bluntly hurt more than I was willing to admit. I felt the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as I reread the message, trying to convince myself that this wasn’t real. "I screwed up. Big time."

Dylan, who had been watching me from the couch, stood up with a worried expression. "Ella, you need to sit down."

"How can I sit down?" I snapped. "Luke’s probably on his way here to kick me out!"

Dylan’s face softened as he came over, placing a steadying hand on my arm. "He’s not going to kick you out. He just needs time to think. His mother showing up like that didn’t help."

I let out a sharp laugh, tears welling in my eyes. "Time to think? His mother hates me. She thinks I’m trash. She’s probably doing a background check on me as we speak!"

Dylan’s brow furrowed. "You’re overthinking this."

I wiped at my eyes furiously. "Do you think she’s going to put a tail on me? Holy shit, Dylan, I gave her my full name. This is a nightmare."

Before I could spiral further, Dylan pulled me into a gentle hug, his hands resting firmly on my shoulders. "You’re fine," he murmured. "You’re not trash, and Luke doesn’t think that either."

I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. "She thinks I’m not good enough for him, doesn’t she?"

Dylan sighed deeply, stepping back. "Look, you and Luke… there’s obviously something between you, but you’ve got to stop thinking you're not good enough."

I opened my mouth to argue, but the sound of the front door opening made my heart drop into my stomach. My eyes went wide as I whispered, "Oh god, it’s Luke."

Before I could bolt, strong arms circled my waist, and I stumbled slightly into Dylan. I froze, my pulse racing as I glanced up and saw Luke standing at the top of the stairs, his piercing eyes locked on the two of us.

"What are you two doing?" His voice was cold, but the underlying hurt made me cringe.

I pushed myself out of Dylan’s arms quickly, my face flushed as I stammered, "Luke, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

Luke’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he interrupted. "Didn’t mean to what, Ella? Fool around with my best friend while I was gone?"

Dylan let out a small laugh, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, man. We weren’t fooling around."

Luke’s gaze flicked between the two of us, his eyes stormy. "Then what the hell was that?"

I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. Dylan, ever the smooth talker, stepped in. "We were just talking. About your mother."

The mention of his mother caused Luke’s expression to darken. "What about her?"

Dylan smirked slightly, running a hand through his hair. "She came by while you were out. Made things… interesting."

Luke’s eyes shifted to me, and I could see the tension in his posture. "She came here? What did she say?"

I bit my lip, my mind racing. Do I tell him everything?

"She… she didn’t say anything that bad," I muttered, unable to meet his gaze.

Luke stepped forward, his voice low. "Ella, tell me what she said."

I swallowed hard, glancing briefly at Dylan for help, but he was no longer smirking. His face had turned serious, his gaze flickering between me and Luke like he was waiting for a bomb to go off.

"She thinks I’m not good enough for you," I whispered finally, the weight of the words heavy in the air.

Luke’s expression didn’t change, but I saw something flicker in his eyes—something like guilt or frustration. "That’s not true," he said quietly, his voice rough.

I shook my head, tears brimming again. "It doesn’t matter what you think, Luke. It’s what she thinks. And if she thinks that, how long until you do too?"

Luke stepped closer, his fingers brushing my cheek gently, wiping away a stray tear. His touch was soft, but it made my skin tingle in a way that sent my heart racing. "Ella," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I don’t care what my mother thinks. I don’t give a damn about her opinion."

I looked up at him, my heart in my throat. "But you’re still going to break the contract, aren’t you?"

He paused, his thumb tracing my jawline softly as he searched my eyes. For a moment, there was a heavy silence between us, the air thick with unspoken words.

"I don’t want to break anything," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes held mine, and for the first time, I saw the vulnerability in them. "I don’t want to lose you."

My breath hitched, my heart skipping a beat. "Then what do you want, Luke?"

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His gaze dropped to my lips, his hand slipping behind my neck, drawing me closer. "I want…" he trailed off, his breath warm against my skin.

Before I could process what was happening, his lips brushed against mine, the kiss soft at first, then deepening as the tension between us exploded. My hands instinctively gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more desperate. The weight of everything that had happened—the fear, the confusion, the desire—all of it poured into that moment.

Dylan cleared his throat loudly, breaking the spell.

Luke pulled back, his eyes flicking to Dylan, who was now standing awkwardly at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed. "Uh… should I leave?"

Luke gave him a look that could only be described as murderous. "Yeah, you should."

Dylan chuckled, backing away slowly. "Got it. I’ll, uh, catch you guys later." He shot me a wink before disappearing out the door, leaving me and Luke standing there, the air between us still charged.

Luke turned back to me, his hands resting on my waist, his expression serious. "This isn’t about my mother, Ella. This is about us. I don’t want you to think for a second that you’re not enough."

I swallowed, my fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt. "But—"

"No buts," he interrupted, his voice firm. "You’re more than enough. You always have been."

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten, and for the first time since everything had happened, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders.

"Okay," I whispered, leaning into him, my forehead resting against his chest. "Okay."