Chapter 15
Wednesday morning – Ellie
For about ten seconds after I woke up, I was all snuggled into my high thread count periwinkle sheets, cozy and happy…and then the memory hit me.
Last night.
Tequila.
And the smoking hot kiss Luke had laid on me.
Well, kisses technically, but somehow it sorta seemed like we'd never stopped the first one until the last one was over. Damn. Why did players always know how to kiss like it was their full-time job? Okay, that was a stupid question. They knew because they had a lot of practice.
I, on the other hand, had very little practice, but even I knew that kiss had been AH-MAZ-ING. Beyond amazing, actually. Freakin' life changing. Frick. Frick. Frick.
One thing was clear, if I'd gone into that kiss thinking it would be no big deal, I'd been sorely mistaken. It was a big deal. A very big deal. Because a kiss like that was going to bop around in my memory until I was a really old lady.
And I don't know if it had been the tequila or just plain, old-fashioned bad thinking on my part, but I should have known the kiss would be phenomenal, which meant I'd want to do it again, which meant I'd be in danger of wanting more. Which, apparently, was the whole reason Luke had stepped away from me in Meg's kitchen all those years ago. And we might have kissed last night, but Luke was still the same player he always was. Or at least he would be again someday. As soon as he was healed physically and mentally and back on tour.
He'd made it very clear he wasn't into long-term relationships. Which meant he wasn't my type. And I refused to be like my younger self and fall for someone who not only didn't do long term but someone who was going to have a bunch of groupies after him probably for the rest of his life. If that young woman at the restaurant yesterday and her ass cheek were anything to judge by, the man had plenty of women to choose from.
Nope. Nope. Nope. I wasn't interested in any of that. And even if Luke was honest and told me upfront that there was no future for us, it wouldn't stop me from wishing and hoping. I was a long-term kinda girl. Long-term was my middle name. No wonder he'd stepped back in Meg's kitchen. At least one of us had been thinking that night. Now it was my turn to be sensible.
Luke was a bad fit. A phenomenally bad fit. And our flirtation, or whatever it was, needed to end with that one kiss—er, make-out sesh. Any more would be super dangerous.
It was that simple.
* * *
Two hours later - Luke
When Ellie cameto my door to change the dressing, I had no idea what to expect. I mean, making out with her last night had been next level. Like can't-get-it-out-of-my-mind next level. It had taken me hours to fall asleep last night. I'd been so hard. I'd punched the pillows a hundred times, mumbling to myself about exactly why it would be a bad idea to go knock on her door and ask if she wanted any company. I mean, the kissing had been mutual and hot. And we were both grown adults. But I had the distinct feeling that Ellie might feel a little different about it today. Sans tequila.
"Knock, knock," she said as she entered the open doorway.
I stood and turned to face her. "Hi." I was going for casual and wanted to hear what she had to say first.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared me down. "Look."
Oh, great. Nothing good ever came after the word "look."
"About last night," she continued.
I sort of bobbed my head, waiting to see which way this was gonna go.
"I think we can agree that kiss was a mistake," she finished, staring at me hopefully as if we'd both just high-five each other and agree to forget it ever happened. But she was wrong.
No. No we could not agree the kiss was a mistake. In fact, I wanted to do it again, immediately. But I wasn't about to say that to her. She'd probably be on the first commercial flight back to Milwaukee if I told her that. Hell, she'd probably grab a bicycle out of my garage and start pedaling her way back up to the Badger State.
Damn. Damn. Damn. The only way to handle this was to agree with her. Otherwise, I'd either scare her off or look like an idiot.
"Yep. Yep. Agree," I said, hoping I sounded convincing.
Was it my imagination or did her face fall a little? No, Luke, you idiot, that's wishful thinking.
"You agree?" She sounded more than a little relieved. Why did that bother me?
"Yep. Of course." What I'd told Ellie the other night was true. I might be in therapy talking about my trust issues and low-key agoraphobia, but I was still a mess when it came to relationships. The truth was I hadn't dated anyone since I'd gotten famous. Mostly because, in addition to never knowing who I could trust, Mark had told me a bunch of scary stories about groupies faking pregnancies or trying to blackmail celebrities into paying them off so they wouldn't disclose intimate details of their time together. I mean, I wasn't into anything particularly freaky, but I still didn't want my mom to click a link in an unsolicited email and get an eyeful about of my proclivities in bed.
I couldn't quite bring myself to ask a woman to sign an NDA agreement just to sleep with me. And being on tour didn't leave much time to meet anyone I might actually form a relationship with. But did it really matter? I might be famous and have money in the bank, but I was still the same guy who bailed any time I came anywhere near getting close to a woman. I could count on one hand the number of women I'd been with for longer than three months. And I didn't need to bring that particular issue to therapy to know why.
Meg had broken it down for me years ago. In addition to his gambling addiction, our dad had been a real jerk all throughout our childhoods, always putting himself and his needs ahead of Mom and us. Having grown up with that bullshit, I was well aware that a decent man wouldn't commit to a woman long term, let alone have kids with her, without being able to be there for all of them for the long haul.
In short, I didn't want to be like my dad. I never wanted to see the disappointment on a woman's face the way my mom had looked at my dad. The best way to handle it? Never commit. Easy enough. And I'd done a stellar job of it. Only these days, when NDAs and groupies were everywhere, I'd never been lonelier. Then what Tiffany had done hadn't helped matters. I was quite well aware that it would be harder than ever to find someone to really connect with. I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit there were times when I thought about a couple of my exes and regretted leaving them so soon. But that was just it. I was a mess.
And that's why, at the end of the day, whether it irritated me to hear her say it first or not, it was better that Ellie had said our kiss was a mistake. Of course it had been. I had no business kissing Ellie. First, she'd been hurt before, and if I hurt her again, I'd be an unforgiveable jackass. And second, Ellie wasn't some girl I could blow off and never see again. She was Meg's best friend. If we did something stupid like kiss again and things went south, I'd have to see her forever. Talk about not wanting to shit in your own bed. No thank you. I had no interest in seeing long-term guilt and disappointment in her eyes every time we ran into each other. Yep, Ellie was the smart adult one to call out a mistake when she saw it. It didn't matter that she was smoking hot, sexy, kind, brilliant, and good at changing a dressing. She was off-limits from now on. Period.