Page 62 of Safe Place

Luke looks at me for a long moment before taking my hand. His grip is firm, but his grin is annoyingly knowing. “We do. But Micah⁠⁠—”

I look him warily. “What?”

Luke’s grin turns downright wicked, that easy Vale charm in full force now. “If this mystery girl doesn’t fall for you after all this, I might.”

I glare at him, standing. “Just make it happen.”

“The clouds shine even on rainy days,” he says.

I've never once understood what Luke means when he does this. I'm not sure anyone does. I leave him laughing to himself, sounding entirely too entertained for my liking.

Luke and I are close, but we’ve always been different. We’re not the kind of brothers who go to each other for life advice, but we’ve always had each other’s backs when it counts. And as much as I tease him for being cheap, I’ve always admired the way he sticks to what he believes in, even when it doesn’t line up with the family name. People are drawn to him without him even trying—he has that easy charm that makes everyone feel like they really matter.

He knows everyone, remembers everything, and really shows up for them. But ask him anything personal—who he's seeing, where he goes when he disappears for weeks, what he actually does when he's not running Evergreen—and he'll deflect so smoothly you won't even realize he did it until later.

I've known him my whole life, but I'm still not sure I know him.

It’s annoying as hell, but I guess that’s just Luke.

SEVENTEEN

Is this the talk? Should I be taking notes?

SOPHIE

The cafe today is busy. I feel my phone vibrate five times in my pocket. A part of me hopes it's Micah. Another part of me hopes it's no emergency having to do with any family issues.

I take it out immediately to check.

Carter

You’re not going to thank me for the gift?

Come on, sweetheart, those things weren’t cheap.

I take care of you, don’t I? You should be nicer to me.

And trust me, that’s nothing compared to what I can really do for you…if you’re sweet to me.

I stare at the messages after another long closing shift at Boston Brews, my fingers clenched around my phone. My feet hurt, my head aches, and now this. I haven’t heard from Carter since I picked up his gift, and I’d almost let myself believe he was finally gone.

But of course not.

I’ve used all my sick days just to avoid tutoring him. I should’ve dropped him weeks ago, but the money—God, the money—I still need it. I kept thinking if I held out a little longer, he’d quit on his own and save me the struggle.

I wish Micah were here. He’s in Boston again for some meeting and he said he’d stop by the cafe if he got back in time. But he hasn’t. And I miss him. Way more than I should.

He makes me feel safe. And I don’t know if that’s something to lean into or run from. Because safety is unfamiliar. Safety is dangerous. It puts your guard down and gives you hope. And when it ends—because it always does—it hurts that much more.

The thought of Carter sends a familiar chill crawling down my spine. His tone. His entitlement. His fake generosity. It reminds me of my stepfather. The way he used to knock harder and louder when I didn’t respond. The way I had to lock my door and wedge my dresser against it just to sleep at night.

Maybe I should tell Micah. I know he’d help me. He’d get angry—like he did with Ella—but this would be different.

But then I think about everything Micah already knows. The scar on my forearm. Carter humiliating me in front of him that first day he helped me. Ella mocking my clothes. He’s seen the cracks. This could be the one that makes him walk away. I’m a mess. A never-ending avalanche of problems. And at some point, even Micah will get tired of digging me out.

I have to deal with this myself.

I’ll figure out the money another way. If I don’t get another tutoring student, I’ll pick up extra shifts at Boston Brews—though my class schedule barely allows it. I could sell some clothes, even if they’re just old Westcliffe merch with small defects. Someone might want them. There has to be a way.