• Six •

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Two hours later we were checked into our hotel and en route on foot to Cloud Gate. My only two stipulations for Chicago were a stereotypical Instagrammy photo at The Bean that would never end up on the internet and deep dish pizza.

Twenty minutes into our walk, and I was starting to resemble a turtle.

"We're almost there," Luke said, turning around and walking backwards.

"Don't mock me," I huffed. "I should invent an adult stroller."

"So like... a wheelchair?"

"No, I'm not trying to pretend like I have a disability. I'm okay with the world knowing I'm lazy."

Luke unsubtly looked my body up and down. "I assume you don't sit on your ass. What do you do?"

"Pilates and yoga. The anti-cardio."

"What is Pilates exactly? A chick work out?"

"It's hard!" I protested.

"I didn't say it didn't work." Luke blinked with heavy eyelids. "Are there any guys in your classes?"

The thought of Luke on a Pilates reformer made me smile. "No, but that's because y'all have to use one hundred pound weights and grunt when you drop them. I much prefer to be in a class with all women."

"That's sexist," Luke joked as we approached the street corner.

I reached out and grabbed his arm before he tripped over the curb. "Watch out! Walk normal, Crazy."

"You were distracting me."

Luke turned around and looked both ways before we crossed the street and winded our way through the park to see the sculpture. We walked around it. We walked under it. We took the same picture everyone else around us was taking, together and separate, of our reflection in the stainless steel.

On the far side, where one curve came down to the ground, I sat on the concrete and lay back to look up. Luke watched me with his hands in his pockets as I took a few pictures with my feet up on the sculpture before lying down next to me. He smiled, placed his phone on his stomach, and put his feet up when I held up my phone to take a picture together.

"It's made of the same thing you're made out of," Luke commented, tapping his feet against the smooth steel surface. "You could be The Bean."

I turned my head completely to the left to look at him. He did the same to his right. Instead of being mad, I smiled. Probably too big, but this moment I was having with something I'd seen so many times—but never in person—made me happy, and I wasn't going to deny that his comment made me laugh.

Luke's face lit up. That Luke shine was almost blinding, especially around metal. "You're happy."

I started to open my mouth to say something snarky, but Luke cut me off.

"Don't deny it. You just smiled for real."

"Whatever, Luke."

"I liked it."

"I've wanted to see this thing for forever. It has nothing to do with you."

"I know that, Bean," Luke laughed, but his eyes weren't responding to the emotion. "But God forbid you look happy in front of me. I'm sorry I brought it up then."

Luke seemed to throw around 'I'm sorries' easily except for the only one that should actually matter, but I didn't want to let him ruin this for me.

"Come on. Pizza two nights in a row," I said, standing and managing a smile. "And two different pizza places in one night. I'll have to work it off in Pilates."

When we'd checked into our hotel, Luke had asked the bubbly Emily at the front desk which place had the best deep-dish pizza. This started a heated debate between her and her co-worker Theo, so of course Luke now wanted to try both of their favorites.

"Sometimes it's a curse that I want to experience everything." Luke swiped his hands across his butt after he stood.

It's a curse to look like you do, I thought as I watched his hands run over his ass in the reflection of the silver metal. Well, really it was a curse to me, a gift for him. The back of his polyester athletic shirt was somehow showing off his shoulder blades through the clingy material. I needed to turn away.

That turned out to be the stupidest decision I could've made. Luke's hands slowly snaked around the tops of my shoulders, and I could feel his warmth creeping closer toward me as he closed the gap between us. Each of his fingers kneaded into my tight muscles slowly, massaging, loosening. His index fingers slid up the sides of my neck, working the muscles and possibly my brain because thoughts I shouldn't have been having were being had.

"Relax, Bean."

"Don't call me that." And don't touch me, but I admit I didn't want to say that part out loud. I liked how his presence was hovering above me, but I skirted out from beneath his grip, trying to get away, once I realized how long I'd been standing still. I was fairly certain it was noticeable that I hadn't moved right away to break contact.

"Hm, I think it suits you," Luke replied.

I turned around to watch his right eyebrow hitch upward before he scratched near the hairline on his temple and slipped his other hand into his pocket. He took a step back like he was trying to create distance. I had no idea why, but the series of his movements made me a little angry.

"Which one do you want to go to first?" I asked, changing the subject.

"There's a Giordano's right across the street." Luke lifted his arm in the direction behind my back and slowly dropped it back down.

"Perfect."

We crossed the street and waited for over an hour for a table in a weird semi-silence.

Maybe I was the only one who was bothered by the silence. Luke would smile over at me every so often, and dinner wasn't silent—even at two restaurants—it turned out to be fun. We split a deep-dish pizza at each one, and as we walked back to the hotel, we passed a gelato stand on the street.

"A gelato for your beautiful lady?" the man behind the stand called to Luke in a thick Italian accent.

Luke abruptly stopped walking and sighed through his smile.

"What flavor do you want?" Luke asked me.

"You don't have to buy me ice cr—"

"Gelato," the man interrupted me like he was offended. "And your boyfriend wants to buy you a gelato. Let him be a man."

I turned to face him and his graying mustache. "He is a man, and he is not my boyfriend."

"Ah," he said like he understood and looked at Luke through his circular wire framed glasses. He said something in Italian, and Luke glanced at me, leaving me wondering if Luke had understood him. "Come, which flavor?" he continued, switching back to English.

I gave in and glanced at the list. "Um... strawberry."

"Make that two, please."

The man opened the freezer and pulled out two green flower rimmed cups and filled them both. He stuck two little flat blue spoons into the top, and Luke handed him a ten before I could dig in my wallet.

"Keep the change," Luke said, turning around and handing me mine. He shook his head at my wallet. "I got it."

"Okay, thanks!" I didn't feel like arguing over five dollars.

"You know, I don't like chocolate," Luke said out of nowhere as we continued down the sidewalk. "My brother used to make fun of me and say that was the lamest thing, but that it fit me so well because I was lame."

"That is a serial-killer-level tendency."

"I know. He made me feel so bad about it. Then I would try to like it so bad. But it's so gross. I don't get it."

"Are you and your brother close?"

Luke shrugged. "We are now, but we're five years apart. He was a freshman in college when I moved to Seattle."

"What's he like?"

"We're... different? I think." Luke dragged one side of his mouth out in thought. "What you girls call a 'bad boy'. Don't even get me started on why you like them so much. He rides a motorcycle and has a full sleeve, went through a lot of girls. Or he did. He finally found a girl he couldn't let go. He's married with a kid on the way." Luke paused. "What?"

I hadn't realized I was smirking into my ice cream. "What?"

"Why are you smiling like that?" Luke's eyebrows pinched.

"I think that's kind of your first impression."

"That I'm a bad boy?"

"I mean, it's not a bad thing. You're obviously not."

"But..." Luke pressed.

"Just at first, you have this dark mysterious thing going on. Does he look like you?"

Luke pulled his little blue spoon out slowly between his full smiling lips, making me wish I could be the spoon.

"So, yes," I guessed. Lord help us, there were two of these men walking around the Earth.

"I'm not dark or mysterious though," Luke countered. "And I'm nice."

"I know. You light up when you open your mouth, but that's not the point."

Luke's eyes lit up. "I light up?"

How was I supposed to even start to correct myself? Yes, you light up, and you make me light up, but I don't want to. I walked right into it, like a fly in a Venus flytrap. Luke's tentacles were closing in around me a millimeter at a time with each new hour we spent together. I didn't even think he was meaning to. It was just his nature—pure biology.

"Who'd you get those eyes from anyway?" That was the first thing I could think of to misdirect.

"My grandmother." Luke stopped to throw away his cup. "She's got the exact same yellow rings too."

I reached around him to throw away my empty cup, and his blue-yellow eyes looked up at the building behind me.

"How are your Pac-Man skills?"

I twirled around to see that we were standing in front of a brewery with an arcade room brightly lit up in the back.

"Above average."

Luke's voice came from behind my ear. "It's on." He placed a hand on my lower back and opened the door for me. "Teenage me is going to smoke teenage you."

I felt like a cart on a track as his hand guided me to the oval bar with gold taps in the middle. "But I'm also going to take advantage of the fact that I'm over twenty-one. What do you want?"

I looked at their menu on the chalkboard. "Their pilsner, I guess."

No-Name-Tag-Girl came to help us. She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and leaned her forearms on the bar. "What can I get for you two?" she asked with a smile.

"A pils and your double IPA," Luke ordered for us. "You can keep it open."

She took his card from between his fingers, swiped it on her computer, and glanced at it before handing it back.

"Thanks," Luke said warmly when she placed our beers down in front of us.

She winked at him as we picked both of them up, but Luke didn't seem to notice.

We found the Pac-Man machine in the back right, nestled next to a high table with two bar stools.

"At least these new ones take credit cards," Luke laughed, putting his beer down on the table and pulling out his wallet. "I used the last of my cash on gelato."

"No, let me." I nudged him over with my hip. "Stop paying for my stuff."

He rolled his eyes at me but didn't argue. "Oh, this one is Pac-Man Battle Royale," he said excitedly.

"What's that mean?"

"Winner is the last one standing."

The intro music started, and we both surprised the other at how good we were before it got intense. We groaned at each other, hit each other's arms, and sighed, "Noooo," when one of us would eventually lose.

We went back and forth through two beers before I needed to pee.

"Half-time," I told Luke.

He nodded and sat on a barstool. It had gotten more crowded since we came in. I made my way to the back and used the bathroom before I came out and ran into a guy's side coming out of the bathroom.

"Sorry," he muttered and did a double take. "Hey."

"Hey," I mimicked him. He wasn't Luke-cute but he was cute. His sandy brown hair was short and clean cut, and he was dressed like he had to work earlier on a Sunday. But I wasn't going to just ditch Luke. I wasn't a complete bitch.

"I'm Henry."

"Reese," I smiled back as we turned the corner.

He reached out and placed his hand lightly on my shoulder. My eyes connected with Luke's as Henry spun me around. Ugh, one of those guys—entitled to my company.

"Are you from here?"

"Nope," I replied, trying to tread the fine line of not being rude but not being overly friendly. "But I love it."

"Where do you go to college?" He sounded drunk. I could see it now in his face. The soft droop of his lips and the sweat glistening at his hairline made me take a step back.

"I graduated last year." I thought my tone was the same as if I had said Goodbye, but Henry wasn't picking up on anything in his state.

"From?"

"Harvard."

Henry raised his eyebrows. His lids looked heavy. "That's... sexy."

I laughed and said sarcastically, "I love being judged for my brains instead of my body for a change. It's so refreshing."

"I'd judge both," Henry said, reaching out and covering my hip with his hand. His eyes darted over my shoulder, and his hand fell back by his side before I could react. "Are you with that guy?"

I turned around to see Luke drinking a third beer and gripping it so hard his knuckles were white.

I looked back at Henry. "I should get back before he breaks the glass. It was nice meeting you."

I knew he was staring at my back by the look on Luke's face. His eyes were fixed over my shoulder until I was right in front of him.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, he's just drunk." I slid into the seat.

Luke still had a vise-like grip around his empty glass. He leaned back against the stool. "I was trying not to be an asshole. I didn't know if you wanted me to save you or not. Although, I guess you couldn't hate me anymore than you already do." He chuckled and stood up. "You want another one?"

"Are you getting another one?"

Luke gave me a short nod.

"Okay, then one more," I said.

He drummed the table with his knuckles and looked over my head. "He better not be sitting here when I get back."

I followed Luke's eye line to see Henry and him having some kind of telepathic conversation. Luke grabbed my empty glass and left the room. Not that it was any of Luke's business who I sat with, but I wasn't interested in Henry anyway and didn't need Luke to save me from anything.
I watched Luke on the far side of the room through the large open doorway. He laughed at something the bartender said, and she placed her hand on his forearm before he pulled it back.

Ugh. I hated it when I was subjected to girls flirting with him right in front of me. Even if he wasn't mine, it was still so damn rude and degrading because the other person didn't know that.

Henry started to make his way toward me, but I was out of my seat and through the doorway before he could get anywhere close.

I surprised Luke when I sidled up next to him.

His lips formed into a hard line. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I want to go sit on the patio."

He glanced behind me like he didn't believe me but must have been satisfied enough by what he saw from Drunk Henry in the back room. His face softened.

"Here you go, Lucas," the bartender said, placing our drinks down in front of him.

Luke kept his eyes on mine silently. I couldn't help but crack a smile at her using his name. Like the weird non-couple we were, Luke picked up on it.

As I walked toward the patio door, he leaned his face into my hair. "She read that from my credit card, Reese."

"Sure, Lucas," I drawled.

We stepped out onto the patio and sat in the only open spot on an outdoor sofa. It had gotten dark, and they had string lights around the overhang. I could feel the alcohol kicking in, tingling the tip of my nose and making me warm underneath my light sweater. I sat up and pulled it back, down my arms and off, before stuffing it behind me in the corner of the cushion and picking up my beer.

"For what it's worth," I started, but the beer finished, "I think I hate you a little less."

"My master plan is working then."

"Your master plan is booking the same flight as me, triggering a pilot strike, and forcing me into a car with you for a week?"

"It's diabolical and only took me ten years to execute."

"I admire the commitment."

Luke's face turned dark and fell flat. "Only problem is I guess I got it wrong."

"Got what wrong?"

"I thought you hated me because I was your competition for valedictorian," Luke said, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on his beer glass. "You really didn't care about that?"

"Why would you think that?" I laughed. "That's ridiculous!" Ohhhhh. "Is that why you think it's hilarious that I hate you?"

Luke took a long sip of his beer. "It's not so funny anymore."

"Oh," I replied. I wasn't emotionally ready to have a conversation about why I actually did.

"I always thought it was that feisty, competitive drive in you when you found out I was also an A student. I mean it was you, me..." Luke held his hand up at forehead level before dropping it down above his lap, "and then Kevin way down here. I liked competing with you, and I always thought you had a leg up on me anyway. I was surprised when they announced it was me."

"I wasn't."

Luke lifted his gaze and laughed breathlessly. "It's okay if you hate me. I'm just confused now. I actually thought you liked me at one point."

It was evident now that he had no idea I knew about the game the guys had played. I couldn't go down this road on a patio full of people.

"I'll confess you're nice to look at." Of all the things to say, why did I choose that?

Thankfully, Luke just rolled his eyes into his beer and swiped his hand through his dark hair. The subtle golden tones waved between his fingers with the motion, and I dropped my eyes to the edge of his sleeve rising up.

"What's that tattoo supposed to be?"

He glanced at it and put his arm back down. "The four minutes I was technically dead."

"Did it hurt?"

"It stung like a bitch, but it was over in a few minutes."

"I've always wanted one, but I'm terrified of needles." I shuddered, thinking of tiny needles penetrating my skin hundreds of times.

"Where and what would you get?" Luke asked.

"I don't know. Something that reminds me of my mom on my wrist or the inside of my foot maybe."

"What reminds you of your mom?"

"Hummingbirds or a flower maybe."

Luke turned towards me and put his elbow up on the back of the couch, waiting for me to continue. "Why's that?" he pressed when I didn't.

"She loved to garden, and she had a million hummingbird feeders in our backyard. Really unique ones like hand blown glass or ones made out of recycled metal. They were so colorful. She would hang them from the trees or stick them in the dirt. We'd watch the hummingbirds feed from the window in the morning." I started to feel like I was rambling, but Luke's eyes were intense and engaged on my face. "Anyway, I have one of them on my porch back in Boston."

"I didn't even know there were hummingbirds in Boston."

"You're missing out."

"I'll steal one from your backyard when we get to Seattle and hang it on my porch when we get back to Boston."

The thought of Luke having one of my mom's hummingbird feeders was so comical, I liked the idea. "Wouldn't that be weird?"

"For sure, but it's also weird that we're sitting here drunk together in Chicago, so..." Luke trailed off and shrugged. He finished his beer and put it down on the table in front of us.

My hand had a mind of its own, and I watched it wrap itself around the top of Luke's thigh. "It's even weirder that I think I wouldn't be having as much fun with anyone else."

Luke looked down at my hand and blinked. He stared at it for too long.

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