“I hate crowded areas,” he grumbles, whenever I suggest it. He’s not at all impressed when I tell him about the guy in the power wheelchair who always hangs out by the Trader Joe’s in Coolidge Corner. But there’s a farmer’s market going on and I haven’t been there in ages. Luke sounds horrified when I mention it to him. “What are you—a hippie?” And that’s how I know he must really like me, because even though he hates Brookline and he hates farmer’s markets, he still shows up at my building on Sunday afternoon, wearing a dress shirt from work, but also Ray Ban sunglasses. Nobody in the world but Luke could pull that off. “I look like an idiot, right?” Luke asks me as he pulls off the sunglasses to reveal his nice brown eyes. “No,” I insist. “You look hot.” He pulls me into his lap and kisses me deeply on the lips. It’s so intense that I don’t even notice the fact that my neighbor Sadie is standing in front of us, pushing a shopping cart full of grocery bags, her jaw hanging open.
