“Luke?”

“What?” I twist the bolts again, clicking them into place. Five locks may seem excessive, but not to me. Not after last night, and if Tessa wants to bitch about it, she can go pick out her own door and do this shit herself.

She sighs in my ear. “I asked if I could use your washer. I can get by with just a few loads, so I won’t even need to be that long. Can you just call me when you get home so I know when to come over?”

Hell no. Having Jolene in my house only leads to her throwing herself at me, and I’m not in the mood to watch her mope after I reject her again. But I don’t want to be a dick about it. She’s a nice girl; she’s just clingy as fuck and wasting her time on me.

I grab the door and lean it against the wire racks before reaching up and gripping the phone in my hand. “Just go over and do it now. There’s a keypad on the side of the garage. Enter the code 1533. It’ll let you in the house.”

“Oh… okay, I guess I can do that. I just thought maybe we could hang out or something while I waited.”

I frown at the obvious disappointment in her voice. “Jolene…”

“Yeah?” she replies eagerly.

“I don’t wanna hang out with you.” I flinch at my own bluntness, but I don’t know how else to spell this out for her. Forcing her hand off my dick sure as hell doesn’t seem to be clear enough.

A soft tsk sound comes through the phone before her suddenly irritated voice. “You can be so conceited, you know that? I didn’t mean I wanted to hang out naked.”

“Really?” I ask, unconvinced.

“Yes, really.”

“So the whole I’m-not-wearing-panties comment, what the fuck was that?”

She pauses briefly before responding. “Well, I mean, if we ended up naked, I’d be okay with that.”

“Just lock up when you leave. All right?” I’m done with this conversation, and this chick. Thank fuck that detective position will require me to move. I can’t deal with this shit much longer.

“God, whatever. Thanks a lot.”

I hang up and slip the phone into my pocket before grabbing the door and taking it up to the register.

***

Tessa’s car is gone when I get back to her apartment. This scenario is actually better than the one I was hoping for. Now I don’t even need to worry about waking her up while I do this, and not having her naked down the hallway should help me focus and get this done before too long. I’ll just need to meet up with her later to give her the new key, or I can leave it with that prick I talked to this morning.

That seems like the best idea. After what I allowed to happen yesterday, and the way I felt last night as I lay next to her, I need distance.

Lots of fucking distance.

I stretch my arms above my head as my eyes adjust to the light streaming in through my window. I’m on Luke’s side of the bed. No… not Luke’s side. Jesus. The other side of the bed that he just so happened to occupy last night. A thought filters through my mind that has me sucking in a sharp breath.

Oh, God. Did I cling to him like I used to do? Seeking his warmth and the feel of his skin against mine was something I craved, even in sleep. I’d always end up scooting closer, never realizing I did it until I’d wake up with my body practically embedded in his. Wanting that connection to him at all times, even when I didn’t do it consciously. But did I do it last night? Naked?

I cover my face with my hands and groan into them as I roll over onto my side.

You did, Tessa. You know you did.

But if I did, what did he do? Did he cuddle me back? Did he even look at me anymore after he abruptly ended our conversation? Luke was never one for PDA, but in bed, he indulged in tiny acts of affection. Even though he was probably only doing it to get comfortable, while I claimed as much of him as I could. Thinking it meant anything more to him was dangerous, comparable to handing over your heart and trusting him with it. The problem was, I’d wanted it to be true. I’d wake up with his arm draped over me, and his head buried in my hair, and I’d think… this is it. This is what it’s like to have all of him.

I don’t know if I got that side of him last night. The fact that I’m alone in bed could mean he didn’t even stay with me. And although I’m glad he isn’t how I’m used to seeing him in the mornings when he would sleep over, because that shit would seriously mess with my head, I need to talk to him. I don’t care how much he’s gonna hate it, we’re talking about last night. All of it.

***

I park in front of the garage and take the steps up to the landing, knocking on the door as my mind takes me back to the last time I was at this house. How nervous I was coming over here, thinking I was pregnant and not knowing what his reaction would be to that. In typical Luke fashion, my attempts to have an actual serious conversation were distracted with sex until I finally threw the question out between us that changed everything.

It’s crazy how you can love a person and hate them at the same time. It shouldn’t be possible, but I think the more you love someone, the easier they are to hate. I’m sure a lot of people can flip that switch and go from one extreme to the other, letting themselves forget every perfect moment as if it never happened, and look at the one person they held above everyone else as if they have no right to be on that pedestal. But apparently, I’m not one of those people. I left this house last summer hating the man I loved more than anything. Two emotions that have the capability to destroy me, and for the past year, I’ve let myself feel both.