12. Luke

12

LUKE

T he next morning, I sat on the sofa in my rented beach house and waited.

Waited for a text, a call, a notification of any kind to let me know that I hadn’t just been a one-night stand for Brett Mercer.

On the surface, I wouldn’t think so…

But the longer I gazed at my blank screen, the more my impatience grew.

I had generally been a confident man most of my life. Along with the fame and money came lots of interest from people who wanted to date me.

But it had been ages since I’d found someone who seemed genuinely interested in me.

So, I waited.

To hear back from Brett Mercer. I had sent him a text a few minutes earlier to ask if he wanted to come over later for lunch.

Regret consumed me the moment I sent it. I knew I should have called. I had no idea how to pursue someone in the modern world. For the past decade, I’d focused on nothing but my career and saving money.

Nothing else had mattered.

Now, here I was, floundering about like a fish out of water.

I nervously sipped my coffee and turned the ringer volume up just to be extra sure I wouldn’t miss anything.

Maybe he’d changed his mind.

Maybe our night together hadn’t meant as much to him.

Seconds ticked by on the clock, taunting me with their repetition.

I was tempted to walk over to the window and see what Leonard was up to, but I knew that he’d only serve as a temporary distraction. His hijinks couldn’t insulate me from the anxiety that was consuming me.

If only I could read Brett’s mind through the walls and glass separating us. For a moment, I considered casually wandering over to the window to see if I could steal a glance at him and see what he was up to, but I talked myself out of it.

I didn’t want to look like a weirdo.

But maybe I could head out to the beach for a while and super subtly glance up at Brett’s house to see if he was busy.

Finally, a sound.

But not a ding. Or a ring.

A knock at the door.

I rushed to my feet before gliding over to the door and swinging it open.

There, on the other side, was Brett, looking shockingly handsome and evidently armed with lunch supplies and wine.

“Picnic on the porch?”

That was when I knew: Brett Mercer was going to be mine .