"If you want to try again, I've learned a few things since then and now I'm sure... I would make it so, so good for you..." Luke pulls back, a troublemakers grin on his lips. "You wouldn't be able to forget it."
...
A sudden thought overtaking me, I drop to my knees.
My fingers fumble at Luke's button, clumsily trying to undo the zipper on his jeans.
His strong, firm fingers grip my wrists, pulling me to a standing position. I peer up, blinking away shower spray, and cock my head to the side.
"Not now, Dyl." His voice is like velvet. "Shower. Get warm." Again, his fingers press into my hips, pushing me in the heavenly hot stream from overhead.
My eyes flutter closed, head tilting back as I appreciate the calming effect it has on my muscles, my tired shoulders and aching back.
When I open my eyes again, Luke is gone, the bathroom door closed behind him.
Taking a moment to look around his walk-in shower stall, I find his shampoo and a bar of soap, both smelling of that woodsy, pine scent Luke carries so well.
I lather my hands in thick suds, running them carefully over my body. Avoiding any cuts or bruises, I massage smooth circles into my aching muscles.
Involuntarily, my hands stop at the apex of my thighs. I feel my cheeks redden as I wash over my breasts, still tender from Luke's fondling.
Maybe it wasn't a good idea. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed.
I squirt his shampoo into my hand, generously coating my hair and scrubbing to remove all the sea salt and sand from my scalp.
Oh, God. Did I pressure him?
A sudden shyness washes over me. I must seem so crazy, like a mess with no handle on her emotions.
But that's just the problem - sitting across from Casey's cross, stuck in the dirt like a damn road sign, the pain intensified until it was crippling, debilitating, and then... I just felt nothing at all.
Except the desire to surrender. To the ocean, to whatever forces may be.
And then standing there, bare, in front of Luke, I just felt something. Whether it was anger, or hatred, for Casey, for saving me, or gratitude for pulling me from the water, safety in familiarity, I don't know.
But when we kissed, breathless as I was, I felt like I could breathe, like the numbness wasn't about to overtake me.
It, he, was what I needed.
Feeling the water run cold, I smooth my hair, removing any remnants of shampoo, and turn the dial off.
Cold in the air of the tiled bathroom, I open the only cabinet under the sink, hoping for a towel.
I find one, a clean one, even, and am ready to wrap up in the plush material when something else catches my eye.
Pill bottles. Tucked into the far corner, as if they're hidden.
I reach hesitantly, my fingers grazing the orange plastic...
A sudden knock at the door startles me into closing the cabinet a little more forcefully than I'd intended. Straightening quickly, I wrap myself in the towel and crack the door.
"These are for you," Luke is careful to look away, handing me a large t-shirt and pair of joggers through the doorway.
"Thanks." I take them, closing the door and slipping into them quickly.
Too long on my frame, the joggers pool over my feet, the shirt hanging down to my mid thighs.
But I do feel warmer. Picking up my sodden clothes and hanging them over Luke's shower rod, I step into the open space of the studio.
Luke's sitting on his bed, his back against the headboard, hands clasped precariously in his lap.
Looking me up and down, he grins at the ill-fitting outfit.
Shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, I glance around the apartment. Lit up by a floor lamp near his bed, the apartment is surprisingly tidy, with a small but functional kitchenette in one corner and his large bed in the other. At one side there's a couch and an armchair, a small, plain rug between them.
On the wall are lines of string, photos attached with little clothespins.
Noticing me noticing them, Luke pats the mattress next to him.
"Come rest."
And I do. Snuggling into the soft comforter, I lean my head against his thigh. His hand finds my hair naturally, and detangles the damp strands with exaggerated gentleness.
"Luke," I mumble, my eyelids growing heavy.
"Mhm?"
"I didn't pressure you, did I?" I yawn. "I mean, I didn't make you uncomfortable?"
Luke stills for a second, before chuckling quietly.
"I pretty much told you what I wanted that day at the center." He pushes a strand of hair from my face. "So what do you think?"
I shift to look up at him. "About what you said?"
"Yeah,"
"Was it so good that I won't forget it?" I sigh, eyes fluttering closed, my legs still weak. "Yeah, I don't think I'll be forgetting it any time soon."
"And what about me, Dyl?" Luke speaks into the darkness. "Are you going to go back home and back to forgetting I exist?"
"I never forgot, Luke." My voice comes out in a whisper. "It just hurt too much to remember."
He says nothing, and for a second, I think he's fallen asleep. I cuddle further under the covers, mind still stuck on something.
"Hey Luke?"
"Yeah?" He surprises me by responding.
"Why were you on the beach in the storm?"
Luke is quiet and again, I wonder if he's drifted off into a dream.
"All of a sudden, I just got a really... strong thought about Casey."
I hold my breath.
"I just really felt like I had to be there."
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what'd ya think loves? where do Luke and Dyl go from here? is Casey still lookin out for Dylan?
