"I'm joking, relax," I laugh. "My grandparents are giving me their old Honda for graduation. I won't be able to afford an apartment and a car payment."
"Right." He pauses as he turns the car on. "Right."
We drive to Rittenhouse Square in silence and Luke leads me straight into the kitchen when we arrive. "Mrs. Gieger left us dinner," he says, pulling open the warming drawers under the island countertop. "Sit," he tells me and slides a plate of lasagna in front of me.
I slump into one of the chairs at the island. "I'm exhausted," I admit.
"It'll pass," Luke says. He doesn't sit, instead leaning against the opposite counter with his plate, watching me.
Is he just going to watch me eat? He's been so weird the last few days.
His phone rings and he answers it as I finish eating. It's a work call and he heads into his den to finish it as I place my plate in the dishwasher and head to his bedroom to grab my cell phone charger. I think I left it plugged in next to the bed. I grab it and turn around to take it to the television room but I stop short as I pass the empty closet closest to the bedroom door, because it's no longer empty.
There are two walk-in closets in this room. An empty one near the door and a second across from the bathroom filled with Luke's things. But now the empty one is filled with my things. I walk inside and look around. It's the entire contents of my dorm room. It doesn't even fill the closet, that's how little I own. But it's all here. My textbooks are stacked neatly on a shelf probably meant for sweaters. My meager wardrobe is hanging on wooden hangers, my shoes neatly lined up in a row underneath. My cosmetics and shower caddy are on another shelf.
Has he… moved me in with him? What the ever-loving hell? Who does that? Someone took all my stuff and moved it into Luke's house without my consent. What did he say the other day? I'll send for your things? Was that asking me to move in? I'm so stunned I don't know what to do next. I exit the bedroom and walk down the hall to his office and stop just inside the doorway and stare at him. He's off the phone now, typing on his laptop. He pauses when I don't say anything.
"Yes?" he prods.
"Do I live here now?" I ask him, radiating attitude. "Do I get a key too? Or will you be driving me to school and picking me up every day like a child?" Jesus, transportation. How does he expect me to get to and from school every day? "Wait, are you really thinking you're going to drive me to school?"
"For the time being, yes, I was thinking exactly that." He closes the laptop and leans back in his chair.
"Did we discuss this while I was unconscious? Because I don't remember having a conversation about moving in with you."
Luke rubs his bottom lip with his thumb before answering. "Logistically I thought my place made the most sense."
Logistically? Sense? Nothing he's saying makes any sense. "Why is Gina your patient?" I ask. If he wants to have a crazy talk, let's do it.
"She's not," he says, opening his laptop back up. "Not any longer."
"But she was," I say and I know my voice is not neutral.
"You know that I can't confirm that due to doctor-patient confidentiality, but since you seem to already know, and in the interest of ending this conversation, yes, she was my patient. And she is not anymore."
"But why?" I'm confused. "Why was she ever, Luke?"
He sighs and rubs a hand across his face. "We have a history, Sophie. I felt like I owed it to her to help, but I don't anymore." He looks at me. "Is that enough?"
I don't know, but I'm tired, so honestly, I give up on this fight or whatever it is and go to bed.
Chapter 31
Luke insists on driving me to and from class for the rest of the week. I fear for the future population of Philadelphia with the amount of work he must be missing.
On Sunday I wake up in Luke's bed, same as the rest of the week. It's nice being here. Showering in Luke's giant walk-in shower every morning instead of the questionable dorm showers doesn't suck, that's for sure.
I'm alone in bed this morning, which isn't unusual. Luke hits the gym before I'm awake most days. I stretch under the covers. The mattress quality at Luke's is a world away from dorm life too.
I'm still not sure what I'm doing here. Have I moved in? It would be nice to be asked. Is it permanent?
I stare at the view of Philadelphia from the bed while I think.
Luke's been weird all week. It's sweet, actually. I think he's worried about me, but I'm fine. I don't have any lasting effects from the concussion and my ankle is okay.
He hasn't touched me all week, sexually. Maybe I should initiate? Let him know I'm fine? I've never had to initiate before though, not really. I mean hell, usually smiling can be perceived as an invitation with Luke.
"You're awake," Luke says from the bedroom doorway.
I didn't hear him come in. He's got a towel thrown over his shoulder, his hair tousled from his workout.
"Come back to bed." I pat the bed with my hand.
He walks to the bed and, bracing his weight on his hands, leans in and kisses me. "I'm sweaty. Take a shower with me and we'll go out for breakfast."
Dammit, does he not want to have sex with me? Breakfast sounds like a great idea though. "I want waffles."
"I know you do," he says, pulling the covers off of me.
"And an omelet."
He extends a hand to pull me from the bed.
"Bacon too," I add. "I want all the food, actually."
"We'll order four breakfasts and pretend people are joining us."
"Are you teasing me?" I'm detecting a smirk on his face.
"Never. We'll go to the buffet at Lacroix. They have all the food, I promise."
A buffet? Hell, yes. I bounce out of bed and dash past Luke for the shower.
Luke is ready before me, as he insists I cannot leave the house with wet hair. I'm dressed and sitting on top of the bathroom vanity, hair dryer in hand while Luke stands in the bathroom door fastening his watch to his wrist.
"Almost dry," I tell him. "Can you bring me my purse, please?"
He nods and retrieves it from the floor of my closet and sets it on the counter. I click off the dryer, satisfied the moisture level of my hair will pass inspection, and dig through my purse. I brush some bronzer across my face and apply mascara before coating my lips in pumpkin spice lip balm. Then I pop out today's birth control pill from the packet and pop it into my mouth while filling a glass of water.
"Right." He pauses as he turns the car on. "Right."
We drive to Rittenhouse Square in silence and Luke leads me straight into the kitchen when we arrive. "Mrs. Gieger left us dinner," he says, pulling open the warming drawers under the island countertop. "Sit," he tells me and slides a plate of lasagna in front of me.
I slump into one of the chairs at the island. "I'm exhausted," I admit.
"It'll pass," Luke says. He doesn't sit, instead leaning against the opposite counter with his plate, watching me.
Is he just going to watch me eat? He's been so weird the last few days.
His phone rings and he answers it as I finish eating. It's a work call and he heads into his den to finish it as I place my plate in the dishwasher and head to his bedroom to grab my cell phone charger. I think I left it plugged in next to the bed. I grab it and turn around to take it to the television room but I stop short as I pass the empty closet closest to the bedroom door, because it's no longer empty.
There are two walk-in closets in this room. An empty one near the door and a second across from the bathroom filled with Luke's things. But now the empty one is filled with my things. I walk inside and look around. It's the entire contents of my dorm room. It doesn't even fill the closet, that's how little I own. But it's all here. My textbooks are stacked neatly on a shelf probably meant for sweaters. My meager wardrobe is hanging on wooden hangers, my shoes neatly lined up in a row underneath. My cosmetics and shower caddy are on another shelf.
Has he… moved me in with him? What the ever-loving hell? Who does that? Someone took all my stuff and moved it into Luke's house without my consent. What did he say the other day? I'll send for your things? Was that asking me to move in? I'm so stunned I don't know what to do next. I exit the bedroom and walk down the hall to his office and stop just inside the doorway and stare at him. He's off the phone now, typing on his laptop. He pauses when I don't say anything.
"Yes?" he prods.
"Do I live here now?" I ask him, radiating attitude. "Do I get a key too? Or will you be driving me to school and picking me up every day like a child?" Jesus, transportation. How does he expect me to get to and from school every day? "Wait, are you really thinking you're going to drive me to school?"
"For the time being, yes, I was thinking exactly that." He closes the laptop and leans back in his chair.
"Did we discuss this while I was unconscious? Because I don't remember having a conversation about moving in with you."
Luke rubs his bottom lip with his thumb before answering. "Logistically I thought my place made the most sense."
Logistically? Sense? Nothing he's saying makes any sense. "Why is Gina your patient?" I ask. If he wants to have a crazy talk, let's do it.
"She's not," he says, opening his laptop back up. "Not any longer."
"But she was," I say and I know my voice is not neutral.
"You know that I can't confirm that due to doctor-patient confidentiality, but since you seem to already know, and in the interest of ending this conversation, yes, she was my patient. And she is not anymore."
"But why?" I'm confused. "Why was she ever, Luke?"
He sighs and rubs a hand across his face. "We have a history, Sophie. I felt like I owed it to her to help, but I don't anymore." He looks at me. "Is that enough?"
I don't know, but I'm tired, so honestly, I give up on this fight or whatever it is and go to bed.
Chapter 31
Luke insists on driving me to and from class for the rest of the week. I fear for the future population of Philadelphia with the amount of work he must be missing.
On Sunday I wake up in Luke's bed, same as the rest of the week. It's nice being here. Showering in Luke's giant walk-in shower every morning instead of the questionable dorm showers doesn't suck, that's for sure.
I'm alone in bed this morning, which isn't unusual. Luke hits the gym before I'm awake most days. I stretch under the covers. The mattress quality at Luke's is a world away from dorm life too.
I'm still not sure what I'm doing here. Have I moved in? It would be nice to be asked. Is it permanent?
I stare at the view of Philadelphia from the bed while I think.
Luke's been weird all week. It's sweet, actually. I think he's worried about me, but I'm fine. I don't have any lasting effects from the concussion and my ankle is okay.
He hasn't touched me all week, sexually. Maybe I should initiate? Let him know I'm fine? I've never had to initiate before though, not really. I mean hell, usually smiling can be perceived as an invitation with Luke.
"You're awake," Luke says from the bedroom doorway.
I didn't hear him come in. He's got a towel thrown over his shoulder, his hair tousled from his workout.
"Come back to bed." I pat the bed with my hand.
He walks to the bed and, bracing his weight on his hands, leans in and kisses me. "I'm sweaty. Take a shower with me and we'll go out for breakfast."
Dammit, does he not want to have sex with me? Breakfast sounds like a great idea though. "I want waffles."
"I know you do," he says, pulling the covers off of me.
"And an omelet."
He extends a hand to pull me from the bed.
"Bacon too," I add. "I want all the food, actually."
"We'll order four breakfasts and pretend people are joining us."
"Are you teasing me?" I'm detecting a smirk on his face.
"Never. We'll go to the buffet at Lacroix. They have all the food, I promise."
A buffet? Hell, yes. I bounce out of bed and dash past Luke for the shower.
Luke is ready before me, as he insists I cannot leave the house with wet hair. I'm dressed and sitting on top of the bathroom vanity, hair dryer in hand while Luke stands in the bathroom door fastening his watch to his wrist.
"Almost dry," I tell him. "Can you bring me my purse, please?"
He nods and retrieves it from the floor of my closet and sets it on the counter. I click off the dryer, satisfied the moisture level of my hair will pass inspection, and dig through my purse. I brush some bronzer across my face and apply mascara before coating my lips in pumpkin spice lip balm. Then I pop out today's birth control pill from the packet and pop it into my mouth while filling a glass of water.
