Free Just a Little (5-8) by Tracie Puckett Page B

heaviness settling in the pit of my stomach, a nervousness that I couldn’t explain. It was that feeling all over again—that familiar feeling of being watched. Matt wouldn’t do this to me, and neither would Charlie.
    “Hello?” I asked, almost too afraid to move, too scared to peer out and see who had followed me into the bathroom. I wondered if this was how my parents felt on the night they were killed. I wondered if they’d felt this scared, this helpless, this trapped.
    “Hello?” I said again, my voice nearly giving out.
    When I didn’t get a response, I summoned the courage to poke my head out.
    Luke stood at the other end of the bathroom, holding his finger up to his mouth. “Don’t scream.”
    “What are you doing here?” I asked through clenched teeth. As much as I wanted to yell at him for seriously overstepping personal boundaries, I found myself on the verge of thanking him. Thanking him for what, I didn’t know. In all honesty, I didn’t know what—or who—to expect when I looked out. But I was just happy it was Luke and not some psychotic murderer out for revenge.
    I pulled the shower curtain closer to my body as I stared at him. “Luke,” I shook my head, “what are you doing here?”
    “We need to talk.”
    “Now?” I asked, wondering what had possessed him to think it was okay to waltz in unannounced. While I stood naked, wet, and vulnerable in the shower, he was only feet away, unfazed by the awkwardness of the situation. Leave it to him to find a way to make me feel uncomfortable even in my own skin . “This is kinda a bad time—”
    “It’s never a good time with you,” he kept his back against the far wall. I rolled my eyes and pulled my head back into the shower. I turned the water off and stood shivering in the tub, cold beads of water dripping from my hair.
    “I need a—”
    “Towel,” Luke dropped one over the railing. The towel landed on my head and covered my eyes. “Dry yourself off. I’ll be waiting in your room.” The door opened and closed yet again, and this time I peered out to make sure he was gone. After wrapping the towel securely around my torso, I shot out of the tub and across the bathroom to lock the door. I leaned against it, dropped my head, and stared at my wet feet.
    A surprise visit from Luke in the middle of the night... I couldn’t possibly see how this was going to end well.
    “There’s the birthday girl,” he said when I reentered my bedroom a few minutes later. He sat on the corner of my unmade bed and watched as I stared at him with pursed lips. Now dressed and drying my hair, I felt a little more comfortable facing him. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
    “Mmm-hmm,” I threw the wet towel in his face. He quickly pulled it away and tossed it aside.
    “Come here,” he whispered, reaching forward to take my wrist. He pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around my waist. His strong hand gently stroked my back, further relieving the tension that had built over the last few days. He lowered his head against mine, closed his eyes, and pressed a soft kiss to my cheekbone. A few moments of silence passed before either of us moved or said another word. Only then was it Luke who made the next move, and it nearly stopped my heart beating altogether. The warmth of his breath danced across my cheek as he whispered a quiet “happy birthday.”
    I closed my eyes and let all the familiarity sink in. His voice, his scent, his breath… everything about him made me feel weak in the knees. No matter how much I wanted to ignore it, I couldn’t dismiss the way my body responded to him. Just a simple touch made me want to lose all self-control. My brain begged me to run, to recognize the manipulation as it was happening, but there was no reasoning with my heart. Having him so close, his warm body pressed firmly beneath mine, I almost managed to forget why I’d ever been mad at him in the first place.
    “Luke,” I said, almost whispering, “what are