Such A Good Guy

2. Luna （12 weeks later）

CHAPTER 2

Luna (12 weeks later)

“ S o, why are you going to Toronto?” my airplane seatmate asked.

I hesitated. Not only was I an introvert who did not want to have a whole-ass conversation with this nice refrigerator salesman, it was an awkward question.

And no one wanted to hear the answer.

Which was that my drug dealer brother had just drunkenly fallen into a ditch and died while on tour with his best friend, and since my parents had both long disowned him, I was the one flying in to collect his ashes.

Not the kind of thing I felt comfortable sharing with a happy, pink-cheeked grandfather.

“Just visiting an old family friend,” I said vaguely. “What about you?”

“We’re here to see a concert,” he said. “Big treat for us. Bringing everyone I know. My wife, my daughters, all the granddaughters. They’re all big fans of this fellow. He seems to be all the rage now. We were pretty lucky to get tickets, though. Apparently they sold out within 45 seconds.”

He shook his head genially. “I was there with my sausage fingers at the ready. Not that I’m much of a fan, you know. But I’d do anything for them.”

“Ah,” I said, hoping the conversation was over so I could go back to working on the expense reports for my small business. “Well, have fun there.”

“Grandpa, don’t be so silly!” one of his granddaughters shrieked, turning around in her seat to glare at him. “You know all the words to his songs!”

Thus called out, my seatmate turned a bit shame-facedly to me. “Well, fine, maybe I am a big fan. Those songs are just so goldurn catchy, you know? You a fan, too?”

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Luke. Luke O’Neill.”

Of course

I resisted an urge to roll my eyes.

“I don’t—I haven’t listened to his songs,” I said, hoping that was the end of the conversation.

“You have to!” she squealed.

“Who would’ve thought he’d be making a tour of Canada !” another woman enthused.

I said nothing.

Good God, if they were this excited about him literally existing, then how out of pocket would they be when they learned he was one of my oldest friends, literally one of the last safe wholesome guys in the world.

We seemed to wait a really long time as the plane landed, torturous for a quieter person like me, but it seemed like the whole plane was literally here for the Luke O’Neill concert, singing and playing his songs loudly.

I looked at my expense reports again. I was definitely going to have go back to my corporate accounting job. Which sucked, because I had really thought for a while I could make this small business work, but my sales had taken a nosedive recently. Everyone in my family made fun of a sensible, level-headed person like me owning a crystal shop, but it was hard to explain how it was my one deviation from sensibility that had grown into a passion for me.

“What’s taking so long?” someone finally asked irritably.

“It sounds like there’s some kind of celebrity out there,” one of the flight attendants said, and this juicy news was passed back from seat to seat eagerly.

Celebrity?

I felt a sudden nervous twist in my gut.

No, surely not.

I hadn’t even told him when I was coming. . .

I argued with myself the entire time I slowly shuffled off the plane.

Surely it was just coincidence.

Could it really be Luke they were referring to as this huge celebrity?

I felt carried along by the excitement, the anticipation.

And I rounded a corner and there he was. International pop star Luke O’Neill, and my brother’s best friend, come to greet me at the airport.

It was pandemonium.

Crowds were being held back by Canadian Mounties on either side of him, women literally stretching out their arms to touch him like he was a miracle healer.

He was the only one in the direct center of that airport runway or I would have happily turned and run away. While it would be usual for him to be chatting up one of the Mounties or deep in some involved conversation with an old guy he’d never see again in his life, this time he was just watching for me, his hands in his pockets.

Luke looked the same as when I’d last seen him three months ago on our family cruise.

Because God forbid my parents ever go on a cruise without Luke O’Neill being invited to come too. My parents were so enamored with him that he was always invited whether or not my brother was in jail that month.

He was very tall and lean, and at 31 he was still constantly mistaken for a model: messy golden-blonde hair with those golden boy bright blue eyes, perfect defined jawline and symmetrical face, brilliant white smile so big and appealing no one could resist it. That irresistible lazy surfer boy charm.

I had seen grizzled old police officers giving him a parking ticket try to resist that smile and fail when he turned the power of that sunshiney gleam on them and they saw the irrepressible good nature in his face.

For a moment I was afraid he had done something unbearably corny and embarrassing like gotten me flowers, even though we had always just been friends, but no, it looked like he was holding a tiny little succulent plant in the crook of his tanned arm.

I relaxed. Luke knew me so well after all these years.

The sound from the crowds was absolutely deafening as I walked down the carpeted path to him, the airport security guards struggling to hold back his fans.

Luke’s grin was so wide when he saw me it crinkled up his eyes, and he took his hands from his pockets, his warm smile even brighter as he began to stride toward me.

He had always had that indefinable superstar quality even in college. It wasn’t just the gorgeous good-boy looks, but there was something so warm and magnetic about him that meant even my dour dark-haired brother had been knee-deep in pussy just by being around Luke, fucking the girls who were waiting around for Luke to notice them.

Before I could object, he gathered me into his arms and squeezed me tightly. He smelled like clean soap, just a touch of cologne. I caught a whiff of something else slightly familiar, but then it was gone.

When I pulled back, because I wasn’t much of a hugger, he instantly let me go.

“Let me get your bags,” he said, grabbing my suitcase and even the heavy backpack and purse I was carrying,

“How was the flight?” he asked. “How are you feeling? Need a coffee?”

His voice was warm in my ear, his hands firmly on my back.

Luke O’Neil was not the kind of guy who’d use a hug as an excuse to grab your ass or rub back and forth on your tits.

He was one of those guys you can always say was a perfect gentleman.

I pulled back and his megawatt grin still gleamed at me.

“I thought you had a concert tonight!” I had to practically yell in his ear. “How are we supposed to get away from your rabid fans?”

“No problem,” he said, offering me his arm that wasn’t weighed down by my suitcase, backpack, and purse.

Oh yeah, I always forgot how strong he was because he was so gentle, not one of those guys who went around starting drunken punch-ups.

I took his arm, but reluctantly. I didn’t want to make this trip awkward. I was just here to take care of my brother’s remains and figure out what the fuck to think about it all.

How do you mourn a guy his whole family hates, because he’s a drug dealer who just beat felony charges for selling blues that put someone in the hospital?

“Are your parents coming?” he asked as he guided me out the door and to a big limousine heavily flanked with security.

I tried to only hold his arm lightly. His skin felt so hot under my fingers, the smooth lines of muscle making me feel embarrassed and awkward.

“No, they’re both on diplomatic postings overseas and say they can’t get away. And since I’m the boring responsible child, I’m the one responsible for his body. They appreciated you trying to help him by bringing him on tour, of course,” I ended hastily.

“You’re not boring,” Luke said, looking down at me. “And I’m here to help you. With whatever you need. I’m so sorry.”

At one point I thought Luke might have had a little crush on me his last year of college, but surely that was a long fucking time ago?

It had probably just been his good manners, because the way he looked he could have Hollywood celebrities, not just Adrian’s little sister.

And, besides, no matter how hot he was, we never would have worked. We were too different. Besides, god, he was basically family .

Though Luke was tall and lean, I felt corded muscles underneath my warm fingers.

My stomach lurched.

Fuck, I didn’t think our flight had been that bumpy. But apparently I was still a little motion sick.

I closed my fingers around the succulent and pulled my arm out of his.

“Just a little something,” he said. “I know you must be feeling kind of low.”

“I don’t know how to feel,” I replied, brushing the plant’s soft leaves.

Luke had always given me presents with no hope of anything in return. That was one of those things that made him such a good man.

If I’d had the confidence to, I could have encouraged him anytime I wanted. He was tall and handsome and a really sweet guy. Just not for me.