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“It works for us.”
“You sleep in the living room?”
“It’s a one-bedroom. My roommate sleeps in there.” She pointed to Janine’s door, kept closed because it was easier than getting her to tidy up.
“She still asleep?”
“She’s over at her boyfriend’s place. She spends most nights there.” Why was she telling him this?
He followed her into the tiny kitchen. “You should get the bedroom if she’s not here that much.”
“Bedroom occupant pays more rent.” Summer opened the door to the refrigerator. “I’m going to shower and dress. Do you want some orange juice?”
“I brought some. Sort of.” He put the bags on the counter and pulled out a bottle of Suja, looking bemused. “It’s orange, anyway.”
“That’s their Bliss mix. It’s awesome. Suja juices are really good.”
“If you say so.” He dipped his hand into the bag again. “Though there’s one flavor called Master Cleanse. I’m telling you, I do not even want to know.”
“Welcome to California.” She gestured to the stove, where her bright red kettle gleamed like new. If you took care of stuff it didn’t need to look as old as it was. “Should I make coffee?”
“I’ve got that, too. And muffins. I brought a bunch. I didn’t know what you like.”
He wasn’t kidding. He had about six of the huge, delicious muffins they sold at Slow Pour and several different kinds of juice. It must have cost a bundle. She loved the food and drinks served at the shop, but no way could she afford them.
Wait, Luke didn’t have a job. Was Zac footing the bill for their breakfast? That wasn’t right.
“Who paid for all this?” The second the question was out of her mouth she wanted it back. So not her business.
“I did.” He looked annoyed. He had a right to be. “That a problem?”
“I’m sorry, that was rude of me.” She felt herself blushing. “I just... I worry about money all the time. But it’s not my place to worry about yours.”
“No, it’s not. But it’s really not cool to assume I would throw money around I didn’t have.” He opened one of the coffees and took a sip, watching her over the rim of the cup, eyes challenging. “You don’t know me—why expect the worst?”
Summer’s stomach turned sick. He was right. She’d adopted a superior attitude from the beginning, as if he was the poor little screwup and she was perfect. She could suddenly see their fight in a different light, and it looked as if she might have been the one who behaved worse. “I’m sorry for that, too.”
“If you want to know the truth, I’m a spoiled rich kid. Mom’s family has tons and Zac and I inherited. Feel better?”
No, she didn’t. “It was stupid to assume—”
“And make an ass out of you and me.” He grinned that charming grin. “Go shower and don’t worry about it, Summer. Really. I know how I come across. I’m working on it, along with a crap load of other stuff. Soon I’ll be without any flaws at all, just like everyone else.”
“Aw, Luke...”
“I’m serious. Go clean up. I’m hungry.” He gave her a gentle nudge. “Go. It’s really okay.”
“I’ll be back soon.” She fled to the bathroom, still feeling awful. Somehow she’d gone from being the injured party to the injurer. Instead of blaming her, Luke had been incredibly understanding and sweet, which made her feel worse. She wasn’t used to that. Her family disagreements escalated exponentially and loudly, the emphasis on winning rather than communicating.
But then, Luke hadn’t been raised in her family. A rich kid from Connecticut? He might as well have been born on another planet. She wasn’t sure why that bothered her so much. Because she no longer had an advantage? God, she hated to think she was that type of person.
There was another possible reason, one she wasn’t crazy about acknowledging. Luke had seemed approachable as an irresponsible, drifting screwup. If he was an East Coast prep school trust-fund baby, that put him about as far out of her league as Zac was.
