Cupcake Kisses

Chapter 19: I Could Pass For A Hobo

Chapter 19: I Could Pass For A Hobo

The first thing I heard was the squawking. Terrifying loud and close, the high pitch noise easily ripped away any last scrap of peaceful sleep I had left.

Groaning softly, I opened one eye. The sun was just rising and it practically blinded me when I looked up at the sky, my poor eyes completely unprepared for it.

I opened my other eye and looked around properly, taking in my surroundings. I was exactly where Luke had brought me last night, on the beach inside his pickup truck. The only difference was that the two of us had fallen asleep together and several hours had passed.

Feeling something heavy on my stomach, I glanced down to find Luke's arm resting on me. He was still asleep, his head snuggled against my neck, his warm breath tickling my skin. I smiled down at him for a moment, briefly distracted by his cuteness, before the events of last night came flooding back.

We kissed.

Luke and I had kissed.

"Fuck," I swore, softly, running a hand through my now knotted hair.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to fall for him or let him fall for me! I had already gone over this for hours last night, before Luke had arrived under my window. I'd also agreed with myself that it wasn't sensible to get feelings for anyone at this time, not when I was so close to college and possibly to moving thousands of miles away.

"Fuck," I said again, too panicked to say anything else.

"Ella?" Luke mumbled, suddenly. I glanced down to find that he too had woken up and was squinting up at me, looking incredibly confused.

"Morning," I said, in the most light hearted and cheery tone I could muster.

"How long have you been up?" He mumbled, slowly sitting up and stretching.

"Just a few minutes," I said, keeping the same forced smile on my face. "I was thinking you could drop me back home? The sun's starting to rise and I don't want my parents to wake up and notice I've been gone."

"Yeah, sure," Luke said, rubbing his eyes.

He took his time stretching and yawning before he finally jumped out of the pickup truck and made his way over to the driver's seat. I followed after him, wondering if he felt nearly as awkward as I did about last night. If he did, he certainly wasn't showing it.

When I was safely seated inside the car, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and grimaced. My hair was definitely suffering the most; full of knots and sticking up at odd angles. My face, however, did not look much better. Why had Luke even kissed me when I looked like I could pass for a hobo?

I moved my gaze to Luke, who was absentmindedly staring out of the car window as he drove. His facial expression was neutral, revealing nothing about what he was thinking. Was he thinking about last night? Was he thinking about the kiss?

Thinking about it now, there was a part of me that regretted that kiss more than anything. A part that would trade in all my best baking recipes if it meant going back in time and not kissing Luke. But there was also another part of me, a bigger part of me, that wanted Luke to stop the car and kiss me again. Kiss me like he'd kissed me last night in the back of his pickup truck, with the waves crashing around us and the wind ruffling his dark hair.

I glanced back over at him. For once, he wasn't going a million miles over the speed limit or making snide comments towards me, he was either too focused on the road or too tired to make an effort.