Luke pulled away from me, but stayed in close proximity of my face. He titled his head to the left and rested his hand on the side of my neck. I shivered as his cold fingers carefully ran over my skin.
I stared at my hands, butterflies erupting inside of me. Was this butterflies? Was this vomit? I don't know.
"Not yet," I timidly replied. I slowly looked back up at him. I feared his reaction.
Luke smiled a little, his eyes didn't change. He looked so loving and so sweet.
"Okay," he said. He paused, admiring my messy hair and red cheeks. "Why don't we head upstairs?" He offered.
I nodded. He carefully took my hand and pulled me from the couch.
I looked at Luke through rose colored glasses. He was a brawny blonde with a secret amiable side. Maybe I'm too understanding and forgiving,
