Page 103 of Meet Cute Reboot

“What about your bed?”

“Cassie.” He runs his thumb along my cheekbone. “I’m not interested in any other women. I came here because...”

“Because you wanted to support southern businesses.”

He drops his hand and tucks his chin. After a deep breath, he meets my eyes again. “Would you think I’m crazy if I said there was another reason?”

“Yes.”

Luke focuses on my lips. “At the risk of sounding like a fool, I came here for you.”

I suspected as much, based on his mother’s drunken admissions, but the words from his mouth are like a weight against my chest. So much pressure. “You uprooted yourself, bought this house with six bedrooms, moved your mother from Chicago, all for me? Luke, I—We—“

“Shh...” He touches his fingers to my lips. “Don’t worry about me. If we don’t work out, I’ll still be happy here. I love Charleston and I love living near the ocean.”

If we don’t work out.Why wouldn’t we work out? If I choose to trust him, and we rekindle our relationship—which is what I thought we were doing—what could tear us apart?

I’m being wishy-washy. Either I trust him, or I don’t. I want him or I don’t.

I clasp Luke’s wrist and lower his hand. “It’s just... I want to trust you, but...”

“Trust takes time.”

I nod.

“I know. And I have a lot to prove.”

Rather than disagree, I chew on my bottom lip. My thoughts are scattered but I try to rein them in. “It took me a long time to get over you. A long time. You wrecked my life, Luke. I can’t go through that again.”

Luke grabs my hand and pulls it to his lips. We sit for over a minute, his breath moving in and out, the warmth of his lips against my skin. “Give me a chance,” he says.

Tears bite at my eyes. “I want to. I do. But I—“

Luke leans in and kisses me. When our lips are inches apart, he says, “You don’t have to decide tonight.”

I don’t have to decide. But I already have, haven’t I? When I agreed to this overnighter, I was giving him a chance. Iamgiving him a chance.

I sniff, and the inhalation pulls a pungent smell into my lungs. “The tomatoes!”

Luke curses softly and then jumps off the couch. We dart into the kitchen to find mushy tomatoes half submerged in boiling water. Their skins are coming loose. We solved that problem, at least.

“Are they ruined?” he asks.

“They’re pretty waterlogged.”

“I was going to fix you a nice Italian dinner and then you distracted me.”

“Youdistractedme.“ I punch him playfully on the arm.

“Is that how it worked?” He pulls me into a hug and plants his lips on my forehead.

“I don’t remember. It’s all a blur.”

“A blur of deliciousness.”

I pull back my head to meet Luke’s eyes. “Is that what I am to you? Food?”

“Um.”