Kissing Her Crush

by Ophelia London

  Thinking that should’ve chilled him out. This was Natalie.

  But it didn’t. Because, hell…this was Natalie.

  “I’ll get the food,” he said after finding an open parking space.

  “Thanks. Top floor.”

  If he was reading her right, Natalie was nervous, too. Instead of joking and laughing like they’d been during the drive, they climbed the stairs in silence. Luke couldn’t help drinking in the way her dress rode up in back with each step. An even bigger jolt of nervousness shot through him when they got to her door.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A blast of cool air from turning the heater off when she’d left the night before greeted Natalie as she stepped inside her apartment. It made goose bumps pop up all over her skin. Or maybe the goose bumps came because she felt Luke behind her.

  Why was she so freaked out over this?

  “The, uh, kitchen’s through there,” she said, hearing the silly, nervous tremor in her voice. She followed Luke in where he set down the bag of food on the counter. He slid his hands in his pockets and looked around.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks.” The sun shone through the open blinds, and except for the empty Hershey wrappers on every flat surface, her apartment was clean and smelled homey. Completely acceptable for a…visitor.

  When the thought made her stomach flutter, she pressed both hands over it.

  “Hey,” he said, fingering a handle of the grocery bag. “I owe you an omelet. You brought cheese from the farm, but do you have eggs?”

  Oddly enough, relief flooded her, easing the nerves. Not because she didn’t want to tear Luke’s clothes off, but because this was a huge deal, and she was thinking way too much about it.

  Luke Elliott was in her home. The boy who’d light her up then break her teenaged heart on a daily bases. The boy she used to think she didn’t deserve because there was no way she’d be enough for him. The man who shattered all those doubts by just being here now.

  “You want to eat?” she asked.

  “Might take the pressure off.”

  She was taken aback. “You feel pressure, too?”

  “Are you kidding?” He laughed and pushed a hand through his hair. “Do you have eggs?”

  She couldn’t help smiling, amazed by how in sync they could be. “I should.”

  “I’ll check.” He pulled open the fridge then made a disapproving hmph. “No Holden Farms cider. But eggs and milk, a couple of sad-looking vegetables.”

  “Might want to check the expiration date on that milk,” she said, grabbing a skillet from the cabinet. “I can’t remember how long ago I bought it.”

  “I’ll need a blender, too,” he said, transferring the food from the bag to the fridge, then inventorying all of it.

  “What are you planning to make? I don’t have anything to blend.”

  “It’s a surprise.” He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, showing toned forearms. His expensive black shoes had a layer of Intercourse dust over them from when they’d been in the orchard. She couldn’t help biting her lip.

  “I love surprises,” she said, leaning a hip on the counter while peeling off her cardigan.

  “Too late for your flirting, Ms. Holden.” He butted his forehead to hers. “I’m melting butter in a pan.”

  She tried to control herself by watching him crack eggs one handed, then add salt and pepper, just like he had in his mother’s kitchen less than a week ago. Maybe they’d actually eat this time.

  “So, I kind of feel like a jerk,” she said, after Luke had moved the mixing bowl to the fridge and thrown in more mystery ingredients.

  “Why?”

  “Besides being a sugar Nazi, I don’t know much about what you do. You work at Penn Med, but how does that involve the NIH? Sorry, I never let you talk about your job when we’re alone.”

  “Our time was better spent.” They smiled at each other as he added the egg mixture to the pan and whipped it with a fork. “The National Institutes of Health hires contract proctors to sit in on all pre-clinical trials that’ve applied for federal grants—like yours. I’ve done a few for other foundations, but this is the first for the NIH. It’s how they test out potential employees, so I was more than willing to step in short notice.” He shook the pan and flipped the eggs.

  “You want to work for them,” Natalie said. “You want to move to DC.”

  Luke looked at her. “Yeah.”

  This wasn’t exactly news, but Natalie’s spirits got a tiny reality check by hearing it out loud.

  “They’re a huge government agency,” Luke continued, “which I don’t love, but it’s the most efficient way to make progress. I like to stay busy, work fast on multiple projects. Where’s a plate?”

  Natalie already knew all this about him, too. If her logical brain was running this scene, she might’ve asked him to drop the spatula and leave right now, save herself potential heartache.

  But her brain had left the room at the same time as her nervousness.

  She pointed to the cabinet behind him and Luke pulled out a plate, dishing all the eggs onto it.

  “Eat,” he said, pushing it over to her.

  “What about you?”

  He shook his head. “You first. I’m guessing you have nothing in your system besides your mom’s death by hot chocolate.”

  She laughed but didn’t argue, and took the fork he was holding out. She’d never tasted eggs like this. They were tangy. Were eggs supposed to be tangy? They were eggs made by Luke, which made them the most delicious dish she’d ever eaten.

  “Back to the NIH,” she said, after another bite, eager to hear the rest of his story.

  “If they’re seriously considering me, being here is a big break.” He rinsed the pan in the sink. “I feel really lucky that they specifically asked for me. It could be huge for my career.”

  Natalie lowered her fork. “And I’ve been trying to undress you the whole time.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” He stood across from her, leaned against the fridge, and shot a smoldering, spine-tingling smile her way. “Though I haven’t been fighting you off very vigorously.”

  She shoveled in another mouthful of eggs, thinking she’d need a whole lot of vigor if he kept looking at her that way.

  “So, the NIH is your dream job.”

  “I have a lot of dreams.” Another smolder.

  Good gracious.

  “It’s what I’ve been working for all this time; it’s the goal.”

  Natalie knew he was talking about the NIH, but that smolder in his eyes made her feel like she was the goal.

  A second later, the smolder was gone. Luke took in a breath and looked up at the ceiling. “If I’m being really honest with myself, though, I’d like to head my own team, take on projects I’m passionate about, the ones that drive me, personally.” He leveled his gaze to her. “Like what you’re doing now. I’m pretty jealous, you know.”

  She couldn’t help being flattered, especially since they’d never seen eye-to-eye about short-term or long-term nutrition goals. “Why don’t you start your own business?”

  “Startups take a lot of capital.”

  “Aren’t you kind of swimming in capital?”

  He sighed and scraped a knuckle along his square jaw. “That’s my family’s money. A big chunk of it is legally mine, but I didn’t earn it. It’d take something pretty damn important for me to tap into that particular well.”

  Natalie thought for a moment while chewing her fork. All these layers of Luke were unfolding right before her eyes, each one making him a better man than she’d thought before.

  “So the whole time you’ve been observing me,” she said, “you knew you were being observed by the feds.”

  “Well, I don’t think they’re spying on me.”

  Spying? The thought caused ice to run across the back of her neck. “Luke, if that video of us at Hersheypark gets out…”

  “I know. Not that DC isn’t brimming
with scandals, but if that surfaces, I can kiss the NIH good-bye. Definitely my job at Penn, too. They’re really cracking down on personal reputations.”

  “It’s been a week. I’m sure they’ve recorded over it by now.” They damn well better have, she thought. Then she made a mental note to drop by the admin office the first chance she got. She’d trade anything to get the master of the tape and destroy it.

  “I wouldn’t mind watching it,” he said, pushing off the fridge and taking a step toward her. “Have you ever made a sex tape?”

  Natalie almost choked on her last bite of egg. “No!”

  Luke laughed, but the look he gave her, like he was remembering what they’d done in that tunnel, made her stomach do a backflip, her whole body flush and prickle like she was burning up from lust fever. Why wasn’t she pulling the buttons of his shirt off with her teeth?

  “Me neither,” he said, keeping his eyes on her. “That video of us is the closest thing.”

  “The feds will never find it on my watch.”

  “Speaking of DC.” He reached out and fingered a lock of her hair. As his hand brushed her cheek, her stomach back-flipped again, and an almost painful heat bloomed from her abdomen to her chest. “What’ll happen if I get the job?”

  “You’ll spend your days filling out lengthy bureaucratic forms and going to Red Skins games.”

  He cupped her cheek, intentionally this time. “I mean, what’ll happen with us?”

  Natalie’s wide eyes resembled two Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. He’d caught her off guard.

  Good. Now they might actually talk about it.

  “Us?” she repeated softly, almost under her breath. “I…don’t know.”

  “Moving to Washington isn’t a done deal,” he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind an ear, “but I live in Philly. That’s where my job is, my work.”

  Natalie nodded. “I know.”

  “And yours is here.”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, as if she hadn’t needed him to point out the obvious. It made him want to hug her and then do other things. He removed his hand from her silky soft cheek and stepped away…but only until they’d finished this last conversation.

  “Not to mention the minor detail of the trial,” she said, then her expression changed. “Luke, listen.” She stood up straight and poked a finger at his chest. “From now on, everything at the lab has to be completely professional and above board. Do you understand? Everything you do.” Her voice was demanding, but not in a controlling way. Not like Celeste’s. “Everything.” She poked him again, harder.

  He grinned, loving when she got all feisty. “Okay, Nat, okay.”

  She used her fist against his chest this time. “I’m serious.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Listen to me. I won’t let you jeopardize your job or your chance with the NIH because of me.”

  Luke’s smile dropped, but his stomach lit with a new fire. He was sure Natalie was just as concerned about her trial as he was about his job. But it was concern for him she voiced. For him that she pounded her fist on his chest.

  This was a game changer. Enough with indecisiveness.

  He placed a hand over hers that was now fisting the front of his shirt. “It’s your turn to listen to me.” He squeezed her hand. “This phase of your trial ends on the twenty-eighth, meaning I will no longer be your proctor.” Another squeeze. ”On the twenty-ninth, all bets are off.”

  A stunning flash of hopefulness shone in her eyes. But a second later, it was gone. “On the thirtieth, you’ll go back to Philly. Seems pointless.”

  Luke kissed her before she could say another word. “We’re trying anyway,” he whispered, clasping both of her hands inside his.

  “Trying what?”

  “Us,” he said, not even stumbling over the word. “On the twenty-ninth, we’re an us. We’ll make it work.”

  “How?”

  He kissed her again. He kissed her hard until she stopped trying to speak, stopped trying to ask questions. Finally, she let herself go, and Luke was there for her to hold onto. Their play was different now between the kisses. She slowed down and just hugged him, held him, allowing their panting, shaking bodies to reset.

  But with each reset, they both grew more determined.

  He hoisted her onto the table. She was better focused than he was, because he hadn’t noticed his shirt was unbuttoned. He moved his hands up her arms and slid the thin strap of her dress off one shoulder, his mouth there to take its place. Natalie tilted her neck and exhaled a sweet moan that made his insides coil like a damn jack-in-the-box.

  “We’re still not dating,” she whispered, easing herself back on the table, guiding him with her.

  “Yes, we are, gorgeous,” he said, balancing on one knee beside her thigh, knocking a stack of mail to the floor. “But it’s our little secret for now.”

  She beamed at him then drove her fingers into the back of his hair and clenched her fists, pulling him on top of her. “I can’t even think about dating until the trial’s over.”

  Luke’s head swam as she wrapped her legs around him, her sugar-sweet tongue sliding across his lips. “Then don’t think.”

  She broke their kiss to flash a smile. “Done.”

  Damn, she was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. Right now, with her hair spilling around her face like a sunflower, and her bright, beaming soul that was as addictive as the creamiest chocolate.

  He kissed the sensitive spot below her ear that he knew she loved. He knew she’d love even more what he’d do next…

  “Uhh.” She wiggled under his body.

  Luke grinned and kissed her there again, slowly, taking his sweet time.

  “Ow.” She wiggled again, and rotated to scrape the top of her shoulder against his chest.

  “Are you lying on something?” he asked, pulling back to suspend his weight off her. He hadn’t bothered checking the table for any knives or…or who knew what Natalie might have around. “If you’re not comfortable, I say we take this party to the—”

  “Ow! What the—” Natalie bolted into a sitting position, knocking her head against his. She slapped her palms flat over her collarbones, pressing in the heels of her hands. “Stings,” she whispered in a confused voice, staring down at herself.

  When she lifted her chin, her eyes were dewy, there was a layer of perspiration above her upper lip, and right where the adorable dimple on her cheek should’ve been, was a cluster of tiny pink welts.

  “Are you okay?”

  All she did was stare wide-eyed at him for a moment, then she slapped a hand over her mouth, pushed him aside and ran down the hall. Luke was hot on her trail and found her crouched on the bathroom floor.

  Right as she made a sound like a dying animal, he dove behind her and held her hair back just in time. For a solid minute, she hacked and coughed, her whole body jolting. He kept a hold of her hair with one hand and rubbed her back with the other. When the worst was over, Natalie flushed then rested her cheek against the bowl.

  “What did you feed me?” she asked in a weak voice.

  “Eggs,” he replied, grabbing a towel off the sink. He wet one end and held it out to her. When she didn’t move, he pressed it to the corners of her mouth.

  “But what was in them?”

  “Nothing.” He ran the other side of the towel over her forehead. “Butter and water, cheese, a few mushrooms.”

  Natalie’s eyes flew open. “You used those yellow-striped mushrooms from my fridge?” She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Luke, those were sent to me as a gift with the roots for my study. They’re edible, but I’d never eat strange fungus from the Amazon without testing them first.”

  “What?” His words were cut off by another dying animal groan, as Natalie’s face plunged toward the bowl. Luke dropped the towel and held her hair back with both hands. “Shit, Natalie, I’m sorry.”

  “Ughhh,” she groaned. “Shut up.”

  He
rubbed her back. “Is your throat swollen? Are you going into anaphylactic shock?”

  “Stop talking, shut up,” she panted, resting her forehead on the open lid of the seat.

  Well, her airway definitely didn’t seem to be affected—that was a good sign. He didn’t speak, just kept rubbing a slow circle across her back. After she hadn’t moved much for about half an hour, he figured this first phase was over. “I’ll get you some water,” he said, shifting his weight.

  “No,” Natalie whispered in a pitiful voice, lifting a shaky hand to shove him away. “Just go. Don’t want you to see me…like this.”

  “Too late,” he said. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  The hand she’d used to try and push him away was now clutching his arm. Heat seared from her skin. She already had a fever, and that tiny cluster of pink welts on her cheek had spread down her neck and shoulders, across her arms. Maybe everywhere.

  Hives, he thought. Not dangerous, but if they didn’t itch like hell now, they were about to. She was also nauseous with a fever of at least 102, judging by his quick assessment. Of course no one could be sure what Amazonian mushrooms might cause next, but if these were her only symptoms, she’d be fine. In about twenty-four hours.

  “I’m going to leave you for a minute,” he said. Natalie’s shaky grip tightened. “Just to go to the kitchen.”

  She exhaled what might’ve been “okay,” but the sound barely came out.

  In the kitchen, he did a quick rummage through drawers until he found some peppermint tea, filled a mug with hot tap water and tossed in the bag. He also found some half-crushed, saltines that might’ve been ten years old. He carried the crackers, tea, and glass of ice water to the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth from the shower rack, soaked it in cold water, then knelt beside her.

  “You’re hot,” he said, pressing it to her forehead.

  “Your timing stinks.”

  He laughed under his breath. “You have a fever caused by a histamine release from the mushrooms, plus a minor food intolerance.”

  “Minor?” She opened one dewy eye.

  “Drink this,” he said, holding out the mug. She took a few sips, rested, then a few more until the minty drink was gone. “Eat.” He unwrapped the cracker and tried to move her into a better sitting position, but the second she brushed against him, her hands flew to her arms, nails raking across her skin.