HIM
woman. Her smile is a lot like his. Luke looks younger in this photo but still very much a man, not a boy. He is smiling, but his eyes look sad, and in pain, I don't see that in his eyes now.I wonder if the woman is his mother.
"That's my mom," Luke says from behind me, as I am startled and almost drop the frame.
"She's beautiful. How old are you here?" I ask, quietly.
"Yes, she was. I'm twenty or twenty-one, I think," he says, walking back to the stove.
What does he mean by was? She was pretty? Did he mean she is older now, and her face has aged or that the burns she received from the fire caused a lot of damage to how she looks now? I want to ask, but I want him to mention it.
"Dinner is ready. I'm not sure how you like your steak, so I cooked it medium-well," he states.
"That's perfect. Thank you!" I reply.
I take a seat at the table, unfolding my napkin and placing it in my lap. I look up at Luke and smile.
"What would you like to drink? Wine, soda, water?"
"Milk, please, if you have any," I say politely.
Luke opens the fridge and pulls out a half-gallon of milk then pours me a glass. He brings the glass and my plate full of food, setting them down in front of me. It looks so delicious. I'm so hungry and excited to devour all this fantastic food.
"I hope you like mushrooms and onions on your steak? How about steak sauce," he says.
He brings his plate to the table and sits down.
"I love them on my steak, and I will let you know if I need any sauce," I reply as I cut up my steak into bite-size pieces.
Luke smiles, places his napkin in his lap, then picks up his fork and knife. I hadn't realized before that he is left-handed. I love finding out little things about him in these surprising ways. I take a bite of the steak. No sauce needed, it's juicy and perfectly seasoned, and melts in my mouth. Damn, he's a phenomenal cook. The potatoes and carrots are equally scrumptious, as are the green beans and brussels. He even has a little custard cup filled with different fruits; melons, grapes, strawberries, and pears. I am not sure if I will be able to finish it all.
I wonder how he learned to cook so well. Perchance, he has been by himself all this while, so he had to teach himself. Pinterest has done wonders for my cooking skills! Maybe, Ernie taught him? Or even my dad! I keep looking at him while we eat. He's so unbelievably handsome, how am I here right now and how did I get lucky enough for him to want to be with me—scrambles my brain. Consumed by his aura, I drift off, not touching a single morsel on my plate.
"Ali? You okay?" Luke asks, looking at me funny.
I snap back to reality, looking down at my plate then back up at him. His plate is almost completely empty.
"Yes, sorry," I reply, a little embarrassed.
I continue eating my meal.
"What were you thinking about?" he questions.
Do I fib and tell him something other than I was off in a daze over the gorgeousness of his face and his outstanding culinary skills?
"You," I say shyly.
He smiles and blushes a smidge.
"What about me?" he asks, looking somewhat interested in what my answer will entail.
"Um... how good looking you are, your cooking skills, and what we did in your bathroom earlier," I murmur.
I cannot believe I just said all of that out loud. I bring my eyes up from the table to look at him. He brings his head down toward his plate, then looks up at me, with his eyes only. The way he is looking at me right now is causing goosebumps to rise all over my entire body. He smirks, then full out smiles, a gorgeous smile but says nothing.
I break free from his stare and finish my dinner while he keeps staring at me, having put his hand under his chin now. It feels a little awkward eating while he stares at me like that, but I'm too hungry to care, and this food is so tasty.
Chapter Forty-Four
A buzzing sound is muffled in my head but grows louder and more annoying with each buzz. I open my eyes, reaching for my phone to shut off my alarm. I look around the darkened room. I almost forgot that I stayed the night with Luke at his place. I roll over to find out that he is not lying in bed next to me. I rub the sleep from my eyes and sit up. I want to go back to sleep; Luke's bed is extremely comfortable with the pillow top mattress he has. I sink right in it, and it wraps right around me. I don't know how he can get out of it every day.
I stand up and walk to the door when an alarm goes off again. I walk back over to the bed, but my phone is not going off, Luke's is. I walk over to the other side of his bed and disarm the alarm on his phone. I forgot that I asked him to set it sooner than he usually does for me in case my phone were to die since I didn't bring a charger. I see a little envelope at the top of his screen before it goes black. I wonder who that message is from. He's not big into texting, at least not with me anyway.
I hit a button on his phone, and it lights up, asking for a password. I need to walk away and stop being nosey. He's not my boyfriend, and he can talk to whoever he wants. I turn and walk to the door; his phone makes a 'bing' sound, and I rush back over by it. Flashing on the top of his screen,