Page 164 of Summer Love

“I... no,” he finally says. “You know, my memory’s like Swiss cheese. I’ve forgotten a ton from back then. If that conversation didn’t stick, it’s gone like everything else. I’m sorry, Summer.”

“It’s okay,” I say.

But it’s not. He was my last hope of understanding what happened. And it just slipped away.

“Have a good night, Summer,” Luke says, picking his box cutter back up.

“You too.”

I push the door open; the bell jingles behind me.

The walk to Tide & Tales takes a few minutes. The low evening light is golden, the sidewalk still warm under my sandals. I carry the tiramisu in both hands, turning the same thought over and over.

Luke doesn’t remember anything. Jace says it’s settled. Noah thinks I’ve let it go.

I step into the bookstore.

The back room is buzzing. Almost everyone’s here—Sierra on the big purple cushion, Maya cross-legged on the floor, Harper sitting on the rug, Chiara in a rattan armchair, Miles leaning against the wall with a nonalcoholic drink, Ruby in the corner with her Doc Martens propped on the armrest.

Luke’s cheesecake is on the coffee table, behind a plate of cookies. I set my dish down next to it.

“Ah, my brother pawned the tiramisu off on you,” Chiara says, smiling.

“I saved you a spot,” Maya says, patting the cushion next to her. “Miles and I’ll drive you back after, okay?”

“Perfect.”

I sit down. Ruby pulls a weed brownie out of her bag. Miles already has his hand up.

“Third Thursday in a row,” Sierra notes, starting to cut it up.

“That’s consistency, not addiction,” Miles fires back.

Ruby offers me a piece.

“Want some? You look stressed.”

“No, thanks.”

She doesn’t push. Miles grabs it and takes a bite.

Sierra holds the book of the month up over her head.

“The M/M we talked about! For anyone who doesn’t have it yet, it’s on the shelf. Blue and pink cover—you can’t miss it.”

The conversation starts up, circles the book for a few minutes. I half-listen. I nibble at a cookie, not hungry.

Jace’s voice, at noon: Can’t we just move on?

Sierra sets her mug down, looks at Harper, and her expression shifts—a little too innocent, a little too relaxed.

“So... you and Noah?”

Harper doesn’t blink. Not an ounce of embarrassment on her face.

“It was just a one-night thing. We were both really clear about it from the start.”

“So it won’t go any further?” Sierra presses.