The Secret Recipe for Moving On Karen Bischer (read my book .txt) 📖

looked like in real life and that he didn’t resemble your picture, you were legitimately pissed off. I remember it well,” Jodie says, totally delighting in this.

I try to force a recollection of that picture into my mind. I’d thought Almanzo would be broad-shouldered, a little scruffy, but not too beard-y, with golden-brown hair and blue eyes. Okay, so maybe if you take away the suspender pants and add a tattoo you might get something close to Luke.

But I can’t admit that to Jodie if I have any hope of moving this conversation along.

“Because it was how I pictured him,” I say, forcing what I hope sounds like a casual chuckle. “You read a book, you have a certain idea of how things should be. Like how you thought Goron the Magnificent from Enchanted Chasms was supposed to be way more goth than the guy who played him on the TV show.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started about that,” she says with a huff, and I think I’ve finally distracted her. But then she goes on. “Anyway, there’s, like, a definite chemistry between you two.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my heart suddenly pounding.

“I’m just asking you to admit you think he’s hot,” Jodie says, folding her arms.

There’s no getting out of this one, what with my face betraying me at every moment lately. “Fine, he’s cute,” I say, busying myself with yanking off my other sock. “But you can think someone’s attractive and not, like, want them.” There. That’s logical.

Jodie rolls her eyes. “Come on, El, you guys definitely have a vibe going on.”

“Well, vibe or not, he has a girlfriend,” I say, becoming annoyed. “There’s no reason for me to think of him beyond that.”

Jodie stares at me for a moment, as if she’s debating what she’s about to say. “I’m just going to say this once: He only came to the game because he knew you were going to be there. Girlfriend or not, you’re on that boy’s mind.”

I know Jodie’s probably only saying this in the hopes that it’ll put me over the Hunter hump for good, that she hopes I’ll move on. But I’m suddenly horrified by something. If I am on Luke’s mind, how does this make him any better than Hunter? And what if that makes me the Brynn in this situation?

It takes me a long time to fall asleep that night, but Jodie snoring on the air mattress next to my bed has nothing to do with it. All I can think about is if this makes Luke a bad person. If it makes me a bad person for enjoying his company and thinking he’s … hot. So around 3:00 a.m. I make the decision to just not think of Luke like that anymore. He’s strictly my classmate now. Satisfied with my new stance, I finally drift off to sleep.

So, of course, that’s when I have my first Luke sex dream.

CHAPTER 15

It’s kind of hilarious that I once thought the hardest part about home ec was having to see Brynn and Hunter grope each other. Because that has absolutely nothing on having to stand right next to the person you’ve been having sex dreams about.

Yes, dreams. Plural. As in, the harder I try to push Luke from my mind, the more he pops up shirtless and kissing me and, uh, doing other things in my dreams, which I’ve been having for over a week now, almost every night since the football game.

It’s really, really uncomfortable. I mean, not during the dreams. That’s surprisingly (and distressingly) fantastic. But seeing him in class? Total dilemma.

Today, for example, we’re baking scones, and watching Luke’s hands work at the dough is making me sweat a little. I’m on dish duty with A.J., so I turn the water on cold in an effort to cool off a little.

“Excuse me, I gotta get a little more flour,” I hear Luke say, and before I know it, he’s squeezing behind me to get to the pantry. His elbow grazes my back and I jump about ten feet.

“Holy crap, Agresti,” Luke laughs. “You’re seriously ticklish.”

I just laugh nervously and leave it at that. Because all I can think about are his seriously defined pecs (at least they are in my dreams, and they look like they could be under his wrinkled Wawa T-shirt) and him kissing my shoulder like he had in the previous night’s dream.

I wonder if it’s odd for a virgin to be having sex dreams. I mean, I never had them about Hunter, which is strange considering he’s the only guy I’ve ever kissed and, uh, done a few other things with. I also wonder if it’s odd for me to be thinking of it as much as I have. And if this makes me some kind of tramp, considering Luke has a girlfriend.

But the dreams did give me comfort about one thing: It probably means I’m only attracted to Luke physically, and it should be easy to keep shallow feelings like that to myself and get over it quickly.

At least, I hope.

“Uh, Ellie, you’ve been rinsing that bowl for like five minutes,” A.J. says.

I try not to turn red as I hand him the bowl. “Sorry, I’m out of it. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“It could be the change in weather,” Isaiah says as he lines a cookie sheet with parchment paper. “It’s gotten pretty cold lately.”

“True,” I say, leaving out the part about my dreams being super, um, hot.

“You know what you need?” A.J. asks as he places the bowl in its cupboard.

“What?” I’m terrified he’s going to say “sex” or something equally crude.

“Chamomile tea. Works like a charm.”

I choke back a laugh and his brow furrows. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I just can’t picture you getting cozy with a cup of tea is all.”

“Laugh all you want. It works!”

“What works?” Luke asks, returning from the pantry with a cup of flour.

“I was just saying that chamomile tea is good for relaxing,” A.J. says.