“How was your trip?” I asked.
“Eh. Went by pretty fast actually,” he said.
“What time is it?” I stifled another yawn.
“Eight thirty, I think?”
My mouth dropped open. “How the hell did you get here in two hours?”
“I left at like three. Thought it’d give me more time here.”
I tried to seem as stern as possible. “Luke. There’s no good reason to be driving when it’s that dark out.”
“Seeing you’s a pretty good reason,” he said, and all the sternness left me. I smiled at him, then yawned.
“You should get in,” he said, pointing to the bed. “Promise it’s clean.”
Flurries swirled in my stomach. Luke was asking me to climb into his bed. Of course, he didn’t intend to be in it at the same time, but that didn’t matter.
Me in Luke’s bed.
I stood up, went around to the side of his bed, and slipped under the covers, carefully lowering my head onto one of his pillows. He watched me the whole time, holding a change of clothes in his hands.
“Be right back,” he said after a moment.
“Okay.”
When I heard the door shut, I buried my face in his pillow, sighing. It smelled just like Luke. Clean and fresh, like boy and like home. Once again, I meant to wait up until he got back, but when I woke up again, he was fast asleep on his back beside me.
I stared at his profile, his long eyelashes, the strong set of his jaw. His perfect nose.
“I’m not as cute when I sleep,” he muttered, covering his eyes with one of his arms. I shifted closer even though he was on top of the covers and I was underneath them.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I said, running my finger along the contours of his face. I wanted so badly to kiss him, to bury myself in the space between his neck and shoulders. I wanted ...
“Is Mel going to freak out?” I asked, imagining her walking in and finding us in bed together. For all the talk of how much she loved me, I suspected there was still a good chance she’d throw me out on my ass if she caught us in a compromising position.
“I’ll stay over here. Or I can take the couch downstairs, if you’re uncomfortable,” he said, opening his eyes to look at me. His eyes were intense and worried, like maybe he thought his nearness was freaking me out.
“I’m not uncomfortable.”
Uncomfortablewas the last word I’d used to describe the sensations wreaking havoc on my heart and limbs and brain.
“I promise I won’t touch you,” he said, still looking at me.
It was the reason I loved Luke so much. He was always thoughtful and respectful and sincere, but at that exact moment I wasn’t so sure respectful was what I wanted.
I reached over and traced the outline of his lips with my fingers. I watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
We fell asleep that way, touching but not touching. Close but not close enough. I knew right then that I wanted to do everything with him, but it had been just a few weeks. This was only the beginning, and we still had so much time, so many more minutes and hours and days, so I closed my eyes and slept.
NOW
I’m lying next to Luke on Tuesday evening as the sun bounces off the roof of Willow’s massive house. Her huge infinity pool glistens a few feet away. Luke and I lie on separate beach towels next to each other. Separated from us by a pair of lounge chairs, Willow and Brett are sitting on their own beach towels.
I close my eyes and try to enjoy the feeling of the warm air against my skin. I tell myself to relax, that everything is okay, but none of it feels true when Luke is close enough for me to feel the heat of his body. He is wearing nothing but a pair of swim shorts, and the sight of his chest sends me back months into the past, then years. When he was mine—and way back when it seemed like he never could be mine.
Somehow, now we seem closer to who we were when we were kids. When the only string holding us together was his brother and his mother. When I would try to think of excuses and reasons to talk to him—because I felt so sure that, without constant reminders of my presence, he would soon forget I existed.
