Page 31 of Meet Me in the Blue

Lifting my bag over my shoulder, I snorted. “My room was always clean, yours always smelled like gym socks.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Tell me about it. Why do you think I always preferred the fort,” I teased and marveled at the easy smile on his lips, the loose set of his shoulders. I’d missed this. No tension. No eggshells for me to stomp on. “I used to secretly stuff air fresheners in your hockey bag.”

“That was you?” he asked, and I cracked up. “I thought it was my mom.”

“All me,” I said with exaggerated pride.

“The guys used to give me shit for it all the time. They said I smelled like a mix of jockstraps and watermelon.”

“Now that’s disgusting.”

We were breathless with laughter, my cheeks aching, his hand pressed against his stomach, his two dimples on full display.

Rook’s amber eyes were flecked with gold, open and alive as he caught his breath. “I owe my mom an apology. I can’t believe it was you the whole time.”

“To be fair… it was originally her idea,” I admitted and bit back a grin when he shook his head.

“I feel so betrayed,” he said, but his tone was all humor and comfort.

The air in the room stilled as our laughter subsided. He took a couple of steps toward me, and my heart clenched out a few unsteady beats. I raised my fingers to my collarbone. It was an unconscious movement, a simple, absentminded thing, an itch I didn’t think would ever fade, but he noticed, his eyes darting down to the slope of my neck. Rook wet his lips, his chest rising and falling with sharp and distinct breaths. My spine burned with a static charge, and I curled my hands into fists at my side to stop myself from doing something irrational, something that would derail this tenuous truce he’d offered me. My heart had always been imaginative, and I told myself the way he’d looked at me, the way he was looking at me now, meant nothing. It couldn’t mean what I needed it to mean. Things between us had changed, but not so much he magically wanted to kiss me, to want me like I wanted him for all these years. It didn’t work like that, even if he had discovered something about himself, about his sexuality, it had nothing to do with me. If our friendship was going to work, if coming home, and carving out a life for myself was ever going to happen, I had to stop creating windows where there were impenetrable walls. I was too old to play pretend.

“Do you think your dad would want to be in the feature too?” I asked and started for the bedroom door. Our arms brushed together, his forest and wood smoke scent surrounding me as I walked past him. “He’s such a huge part of my dad’s life and this town.”

“My dad would be honored,” he said, and I glanced over my shoulder to catch him smiling. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Roger is like a second father to me.”

“Luka…”

“Yeah?”

He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?” I asked, giving him my full attention. The tightness around his eyes had returned. “What’s up?”

“I have the day off tomorrow…” He rubbed the side of his neck, one of his old nervous tics. I had to fight my smile as I waited him out. “Not sure what your schedule looks like, but I thought if you needed some shots of the office or around town for your article, maybe you’d like some company.”

“I’d love some company.” I didn’t even try to hide my ridiculous smile. When we were younger, I used to drag him along on never-ending hikes and adventures. All a ruse to take pictures. He’d never complain or call me on my bullshit. “Maybe we could grab pancakes at The Early Bird before we get started?”

“Pictures and pancakes,” he said with a reminiscent twitch of his lips. “It’s a good place to start.”

I figured he’d meant a good place to start our day, but there might have been a deeper meaning.A good place to start over. To begin again.God, my stupid heart was such a fucking liar.

“Your mom sent me up here, by the way,” he said. “She told me to remind you no medical stuff.”

“Jesus,” I whispered and laughed without humor. “Like I wouldn’t remember the conversation we had less than an hour ago.”

“No medical stuff?” he asked, and I nodded.

“She doesn’t want the hospital bed, or any of his medical stuff to make it into the pictures. Like I’m an idiot. I know he wouldn’t want everyone feeling bad for him. I want to catch him when he’s feeling good. I got a few shots earlier when he was up watching the game.”

“Whatever you get will be amazing.”

“I hope so.”

This project wasn’t me proving myself to my new boss. It wasn’t landscapes and skylines. This was my dad. His legacy. I couldn’t fuck it up.

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