Drunk on Love(69)

Avery still had that smirk on her face.

“Okay. Sounds good.”

She turned to leave, but he stopped her.

“Wait. Avery. How are you doing? Really doing, I mean. No ‘I’m fine’ bullshit this time.”

The smile dropped from her face as she looked at him.

“I’m okay,” she said finally. “Really, I am. The past few weeks have been . . . hard. Not in the way I really expected, though.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She let out a breath.

“The breakup itself obviously sucked. But after that . . . I thought I would miss him a lot. But I haven’t really, at all. And I’ve felt pretty bad about that.”

He didn’t understand.

“Why have you felt bad that you haven’t missed him? That’s great.”

She looked away from him.

“I mean yeah, it is great. Sort of. It’s felt so good, to be without him. And I’ve felt bad that it’s felt so good, that I’m not a good person, that I should have loved him more, cared about him more. And also, that I should have realized how I felt so much earlier, and that I’m so stupid for not seeing that, and after I did see it, I was so stupid for not doing something about it for so long.” She tried to smile. “I feel bad about one of those two things most of the time, they switch back and forth.”

“I’m really glad it’s felt good to be on your own,” he said. “I just wish you didn’t feel bad about it.” He felt especially guilty now about things he’d said to her about her ex. “I’m really sorry if I—”

She shook her head.

“It’s not your fault. But the good thing is that every day I feel a little less bad about both of those things, and a little—sometimes a lot—happier about being on my own now. So I really meant it when I said I’m okay.”

He looked closely at her. He could tell she was being honest with him.

“I’m glad,” he said. “You’ll let me know if you need anything at all, right?”

She smiled at him.

“You know it.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “And—look, you know I’m not one for mushy stuff, so I’m only going to say this once—it’s meant a lot to have you here. I know you moved up here only because you were worried about me, and you didn’t have to do that, but it’s been . . . really great to have you nearby. So. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, “but you know you would do the same for me.”

She laughed.

“I wouldn’t help you move, I’d just buy you an enormous amount of fried chicken and let you watch all the bad movies you wanted.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean they’re bad, you know.”

Avery opened her mouth to respond, when his mom came in through the front door.

“Luke! Oh, and Avery! So lovely to see you!” She looked from Luke to Avery and beamed.

Oof. It felt even weirder now for his mom to think he and Avery were together.

“Mom, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at home, resting.”

She looked around the lobby. He knew she was making sure it was as clean and well organized as she usually kept it.

“I know, I know, but I hadn’t left the house all week, so I got Pete to bring me along with him in the car today when he had to stop by a client’s, and it was nearby, so I just thought I’d come in and say hi!” She turned to Avery. “It’s so good to see you, Avery. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing really well, Ms. Williams—Lauren,” Avery said. “I was so sorry to hear about your accident, but I’m glad it looks like you’re healing okay. And thanks again, for sending that couple my way for the wedding—it’s been a real pleasure to work with them so far.”

His mom smiled at Avery and then raised her eyebrows at him. Was she expecting him to propose to Avery? Oh God.

“Of course, of course, I was glad to be able to do it. They seemed like such a nice couple,” she said to Avery.

Avery picked up her drink.

“I have to run—I was just driving by and stopped in to say hi, but I have a lunch meeting coming up. Talk to you soon, Luke.”

He nodded at her.

“Talk to you soon.”

His mom beamed at him when Avery walked out.

“So . . . things are going well there?”

It had been easy, up until now, to pretend to his mom that he was dating Avery. But after the past few days with Margot, after leaving her bed this morning and thinking about her all day and telling Avery that he actually really liked Margot, it felt impossible to seem even a tiny bit interested in any other woman.

But he couldn’t confess everything to his mom now. She was injured, and stressed about the inn. He didn’t want her to be upset about his job, too. And plus, like he’d said to Avery, he still didn’t know how long this thing with Margot was going to last.

“Yeah, Mom,” he said, looking down at the computer. “Things are going well there.”

Why did he feel so guilty when he said that?



* * *





LUKE SPENT THE NIGHT at Margot’s house every night that week. Margot knew they should hold off, that they should take breaks from each other, that she shouldn’t let herself get too attached too fast, but every morning when he left he said, See you later? and every time she said, Yes, see you later. She couldn’t help herself. She liked him, she liked everything about him. She liked the way he asked her questions about her day and listened, really listened, to her answers; she liked the stupid jokes he cracked when he could tell something had gotten her in a bad mood; she liked the way he smiled at and chatted with their waitress at the burger place they went to on Thursday night after work; she liked the huge tips he left, without calling attention to them; she liked the way he talked about his mom, exasperated but loving.