Such A Good Guy

4. Luna

CHAPTER 4

Luna

“ Y ou can barely see the CN Tower,” I said, disgruntled, and I looked back at Luke.

He was breathing deeply, two spots of color high on the cheekbones of his model-perfect face.

“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously, watching as he rubbed a tanned hand quickly over his nose. “Are you on drugs?”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes dancing at me. “I love drugs.”

I scoffed. “No, you don’t. You’re way too square for drugs and you always have been.”

“Didn’t I try those weed brownies when you made them in college?” he countered. “And the weed cookies? And also the disastrous weed carrot cake?”

I laughed. “Pft, that doesn’t count. You always ate everything I made. Even my tofu burgers.”

“Those weren’t bad,” he said.

“ You were the only one who was able to eat more than a bite of them without gagging.”

He shrugged, his eyes warm as they looked at me.

A little too warm.

Oh, god, surely he wasn’t going to make this whole trip awkward. I didn’t know how long I was going to have to be up here to do the paperwork.

“How long do you think it’s going to take to. . .get Adrian’s ashes?” I asked, because I didn’t like the look in his eyes.

Luke was too sweet to even try making a real move on me if I wasn’t interested, but I wanted to make sure he didn’t get the wrong impression.

“It might take a few weeks,” he said. “But I can make up for any lost wages since you’ve had to close your crystal shop for this.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said uncomfortably. “You don’t have to be like Santa Claus now that you’re loaded.”

He shrugged again.

“I have more money than I need. And it’s only fair since you had to come up here.”

That was perfectly logical, and of course Luke was practically family, but still. . .

“Well, you don’t have to take me to all your concerts,” I added. “I wouldn’t want to take a seat from any of your rabid fans.”

“But I want you there, Luna,” he said.

The way he said it was almost like a caress, and my stomach lurched again.

What the fuck? I never got motion sickness, but this ride had me about to hurl.

When we got to the Rogers Centre, Luke opened the door for me, then got out too, his fingertips brushing against my elbow.

“Now, Luke, we’re such old friends you don’t have to do all this for me.”

“We are old friends,” he said. “But I still want to.”

When we got out, he introduced me to his Business Manager Ignatius Carleton and a variety of other staffers he of course knew all by name and had a nice word for each.

“This is Luna,” he said. “I’ve known her a long time and she’s very special to me.”

Then he squeezed my shoulder briefly and affectionately, his hands always respectful even though my Metallica T-shirt was hanging off my arm, leaving acres of skin he could have groped if he was some kind of pervert instead of a good guy.

He went to get his guitar and into the room to warm-up.

Maybe I was overreacting, I thought. I hadn’t actually seen anything in his eyes, really.

Everyone thought Luke liked them. I couldn’t count how many times I’d had women coming up to me and insisting he was in love with them just because he smiled in their direction.

That’s just how Luke was. He was like sunshine, and everyone wanted that warmth on their skin.

He was simply looking at me like a big brother would. I needed to stop reading into things.

I adjusted my bra strap. God, I’d always been very well-endowed, but why the fuck were my breasts not even fitting in my own bras anymore? They felt so heavy and swollen. I glanced down to see them spilling over the satiny pink cups, the underwire digging into my overflowing curves.

Fuck, this stupid bra was killing me. I reached my hands behind me to undo it, try to subtly stuff it in my purse or something, because it felt like my tits were getting sliced halfway off.

They ached too. Maybe my period was coming. I had an IUD so my period wasn’t always regular.

I tried to count back when my last period had been as I peeked out from backstage. The Rogers Centre was an absolutely enormous space.

Luke O’Neill had always been one of those charismatic guys it was impossible to take your eyes off of, and the huge concert hall in Toronto was absolutely packed.

I was still twisting at the back of my bra, with my shirt shoved halfway up my back when Luke came up behind me.

“Here, let me help you,” he said. “Bras have shitty design, it’s a feminist issue.”

I felt both his hands on my back. Unlike most guys he didn’t try to be the Olympic gold medalist of ripping it open, just carefully undid each clasp so they wouldn’t scrape me.

Objections were on the tip of my tongue as my skin prickled in surprise to feel his long, strong fingers there, but he didn’t linger enough for me to really say anything.

“I hope you enjoy the concert,” he whispered in my ear.

I felt uncomfortable and slightly nervous.

“Have a good show,” I said.

“Of course,” he said. “ You’re here, aren’t you?”

Then he gave me that gorgeous huge golden boy grin, his smile stretching across his tanned face, and then he slung his guitar around his neck and walked out onto the stage.

I must be overreacting.

Some people just could not turn their sex appeal off.

Luke and I had always had an easy, comfortable relationship, and God knew he was an atrocious flirt.

How could he not be when he looked like that?

The auditorium flashed bright lights as he walked out on stage, the jeans hanging low on his hips.

Sound exploded in my ears, and I resisted the urge to cover them.

In some ways it was surreal, but in other ways this seemed exactly like where Luke O’Neil would end up ever since I heard him sing for the first time.

He had been visiting during one summer. He always visited during summers, sometimes spending even the entire three months at our house doing music gigs. My brother was kind of a shitty friend in addition to generally being a shithead, and in my opinion he was only friends with Luke to get some of the tail end of the constant attention from women Luke got everywhere he went.

One day he picked up a guitar at a party, and was strumming it lazily.

“You’re pretty good at that,” I said.

“Oh?” he asked.

One amazing thing about Luke was that he was such a good listener, dropped everything he was doing to give you his full attention. I knew he had a big scholarship for piano playing, since he was a piano genius, but he was even good just picking up a guitar for the first time.

“Yeah, you could be a rock star playing like that,” I said.

“Would you like that, Luna?” Luke asked.

I had been just a little tipsy, champagne bubbles sparkling up my nose, and I felt an embarrassing twitch and pull deep in my belly at the way his voice said Luna .

“Yeah!” I said, a little too anxious to distract myself from that pull I didn’t want to think about. “That would be cool.”

“A lot of women would say you’re pretty lucky knowing him for so long,” Ignatius said with an ingratiating smile, bringing me back to the present. “You must know him very well, because I’ve heard him mention you a lot. He never talks much about his past; I’m hoping to get some great stuff about his childhood from you.”

“You should probably ask him about that,” I said politely, trying to fight my instant irritation at the idea that I would be sharing gossipy stories. But I was a bit prickly and didn’t like people easily, so I fought the urge to dislike Ignatius.

“How did you end up working for Luke?”

I remembered with a pang that Luke had asked me a few months ago if he should hire a business manager and PR agent. I had said yes but given no further instructions. And Luke O’Neill wasn’t the kind of man you wanted in charge of doing his own hiring.

He was so nice he had always gotten taken advantage of and sometimes I had to positively drag him away from overspending or doing something way too generous.

“Staffing company,” Ignatius said.

I nodded neutrally, then turned away and back to where Luke was starting his concert.

I had been lying in the plane. I did know Luke’s songs. Because most of them were ones we had written together, fucking around while baking Christmas cookies or reading by the pool in my parents’ sterile mansion.

The buttons of my black jeans dug into my belly, and I tried to stretch inconspicuously as I watched Luke move into a set while cat pictures his fans had sent in played on a PowerPoint behind him. Good lord, my jeans were tight. I desperately wanted to pop the top button. Why were they this goddamn tight? I must have gained a little weight, which was fine, but odd, since I hadn’t been doing anything differently. My belly seemed to swell so hard against the zipper that it dug into my flesh, and I finally undid the top button, biting my lip as I looked around nervously to make sure no one had seen me. With my bra in my purse, my nipples rubbed against my T-shirt, the surface of my breasts so heated that even the soft feel of my shirt made my nipples sting.

And now I had the first button of my jeans off, too. I needed to get looser clothes pronto.

Luke glittered when he played his final song, the spotlights giving his hair a golden halo. He looked totally relaxed and at home on the stage, like he was born to do this.

“What do you do?” Ignatius asked as my ears ached from the roars of the crowd.

Luke had the audience in the palm of his hand and he had risked his whole reputation by inviting my loser brother to play backup for this high-profile tour of Canada. Some men were just too pure for this world. . .

Feeling a bit self-conscious, I began to explain my job to Ignatius. Maybe being an accounting and tax major didn’t go very well with a crystal shop, but I didn’t care. I thought my accounting background helped me keep my business afloat. And we were growing, too! Up until the last dip in my sales, anyways. If I could get back on track I might even be able to hire an employee. We had been growing with steady, incremental growth. Although my town of Providence Bay was quite staid and conservative, I did get a surprising number of customers, from all walks of life really.

“Oh, can I see one of your crystals?” he asked.

I pulled out a pretty pure milk and lilac colored lepidolite for relaxation, and it slipped through my fingers and rolled down the hallway.

“Oh, I’ll get that,” Ignatius said, chasing after it.

He was pretty cute, honestly. Big brown eyes, all that chocolate mousse colored hair, interestingly rumbly and bumpy muscles beneath his suit. There were possibilities, even if he did seem like a yes-man.

“Let me,” Luke said, walking through the door from the stage with his easy, tall pace, his guitar slung around his neck.

I could see a bit of slick sweat on his tanned throat and felt that same embarrassing little pull down in my pussy.

Maybe I wasn’t about to start my period at all. Maybe I was ovulating. That could be the only explanation. Or maybe it had just been way too long since I’d had sex. Ever since my freshman year of college, I’d had the worst luck with men. Sometimes I’d even have a phenomenal first date, loads of chemistry, great conversation, and suddenly the man would totally ghost me, or say he couldn’t date me.

When I asked why, they’d never answer.

My breasts felt like they were swelling, my nipples rubbing against my T-shirt. It felt almost obscene how tight and pebbled they were and how much it turned me on to feel the fabric against them.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got the rock,” Ignatius said cheerfully, getting down on his knees and reaching for sparkling crystal.

Maybe there were possibilities there, because I really needed to get laid. Ignatius seemed anxious to please, at any rate.

His fingers had just closed on the lepidolite when suddenly Luke reached down to grip Ignatius by the neck.

“I said let me ,” he repeated, and I glanced up sharply at him.

There was a cold, crisp tone to his voice I hadn’t heard before.

For a minute I thought he was just making a joke, but then I saw his hands tighten around Ignatius’ neck, the tendons standing out in his arms, as Ignatius let out a startled gurgle.

“Can you let me go now?” his Business Manager rasped.

But Luke’s hand didn’t move, and I saw a muscle ripple in his forearm. He was stronger than I thought, because Ignatius was a pretty big guy, and he wasn’t even able to move.

Ignatius started to press on the floor, grunting as he strained to stand up.

“ I’ll get the lepidolite for her,” Luke said, pleasantly enough, but Ignatius was still occupied with trying to escape.

For one crazy moment I thought Luke wasn’t going to let him go, a muscle throbbing in his jawline.

“Drop it,” he said coldly.

Then Ignatius did, the lepidolite clattering on the ground, and Luke scooped it up, handing it to me.

For a moment, there was something in his eyes, and I felt a strange trickle of fear go down my spine.

What was that expression?

What had I just seen?

There was something almost. . .dark. . .and wrong there. Something unfamiliar.

And then he blinked and it was gone, and he was sweet Luke O’Neill again, raising an arm to help Ignatius up.

Ignatius rubbed his neck and straightened his tie.

“Just trying to help,” he said.

“I know what you were doing,” Luke said, and his voice sounded neutral. . . .almost.

Then he handed the stone to me, our fingers brushing, and I felt my pussy tighten again.

For a moment he wasn’t smiling at all, and I felt his fingers close on my wrist, then he dropped the stone into my palm.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Do you need to rest? Maybe a nap?”

I was absolutely tired as balls, but I had no intention of letting him know that.

“I feel great!”

“Then let’s go,” Luke said. “Our flight to Nunavut leaves in two hours.”

“Now, is this really necessary?” I asked. “Are you sure I have to go with you? Couldn’t I just do the paperwork in Toronto?”

He turned to me, holding his arm out like a gentleman so I could tuck my hand in the crook of his elbow. That’s how we often went places.

Easy, light, and friendly. Comfortable with each other. Like it had always been between us.

Right?

“Oh, Luna,” he said. “It’s definitely necessary.”