Willa & the Extraordinary Internship

CH. 37

When Nate left Willa's house the next afternoon, after a sleepy cuddle and a hasty breakfast of strong coffee and golden-browned toast, she wasn't expecting him to come back so soon.

"Coming!" she called out, padding to the door in her unflattering moose-printed robe, a re-gifted Christmas present from a cousin.

The door bell rang again. "I'm on my way, sheesh," she grumbled, wrenching the door open.

Willa blinked.

Then she blinked some more.

Definitely not Nate, after all.

Aghast, she stared at the person on her doorstep. "Luke?"

In the flesh stood Luke Derwent, all six-feet-two-inches of him. He looked the same, except maybe his hair had grown out a couple of inches longer than it used to be, and instead of his usual gelled James Dean hairstyle, his hair was a mop of flyaways that curled against his ears and forehead.

"Erm," he said, clearing his throat, "Hi, Willa."

She continued to stare at him in horrified fascination before pulling her robe tighter around her and folding her arms across her chest. "What are you doing here?" she asked, incredulity lining the five words.

"You didn't call me." Luke Derwent didn't even have the decency to look shame-faced.

She gaped at him. "You're kidding."

He didn't say anything, just shoved his hands in his pockets and looked surly.

"You cheated on me," she said, hating how shrill and shrewish her voice came out. "In front of me."

"Not my finest hour," he admitted.

Willa bit back the words she itched to say, the words that were pushing against the back of her teeth like a battering ram.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

She gave him an angry look, her lips pinched together into a thin line, but pushed the door open. Letting him in didn't rank high on her to-do list but she kind of wanted to see why he was there, after so much time had gone by without a word.

"I kept waiting for you to call me. Or text me," she said. "I expected"—she shut the door behind him—"you to be at least a little bit ashamed of yourself."

"I was." He stood in her living room, glancing at her stuff with interest, even though he'd seen it all before. He moved to her bookshelf, ran his finger along the shelf like a mother-in-law checking for dust, and then finally settled on the battered copy of the first Simeon Lee novel.

"Is this any good?" Luke asked, sliding it off the shelf. He flipped through it, past Nate's bookmark, and then shut it again.

"You didn't come here for book recommendations," Willa said in a withering tone. She snatched her book back, feeling oddly protective of it. It was the book Nate read yesterday. That was Nate's bookmark.

"No." He gave her a chagrined smile. "I guess I didn't."

He didn't seem any more forthcoming. Willa tapped her foot impatiently against the carpet. "Well?"

"Cyn told me you were writing a book."

Willa resisted the urge to scoff. Of course. He and Cyn were probably partners in crime now. Her mind flashed back to the Facebook post Maryam had shown her. For a moment, it crossed her mind to ask Luke whether he'd had to be cajoled by Cyn into liking the status or whether he had decided to do it on his own. As she stared at him, clutching her book against her chest, she decided it didn't matter.