Page 34 of Meet Me in the Blue

He leaned against the driver’s side door, and I tugged on the string of the hoodie. “You can keep this.”

“I have plenty.” He chuckled, and I tried to hide my disappointment with a smile. Like always, he read me like a book. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you want me to keep it?”

“No… I… I figured it would be easier.” I raised a shoulder, but it wasn’t as nonchalant as I would have liked, and he reached for my hand.

He slotted our fingers together. “Say what you mean, Luka.”

It’s what he’d used to say to me when we were kids, when he could tell I was sad, or worried or afraid of what I had running through my mind. It had been a lot easier to tell him the truth inside our fort with the mask of pouring rain and moonlight.

“I want you to keep it,” I said, and he lifted his eyes to mine.

“Why?”

The muscle in my jaw clenched as I swallowed. Did he know? He had to know. Maybe my stupid heart wasn’t as dumb as I thought. It was dark outside, the clouds covering the moon, the shadows of his face hidden. I couldn’t read him, like all those other times, in the pitch black of night, and instead of doing the smart thing, avoiding the truth altogether, I asked him a question.

“Did you like it when I wore your jersey in high school?”

He didn’t answer right away, his thumb rubbing two small circles into my palm. The rough touch of his skin raised a riot of goose bumps from my wrist to my elbow. “It made me feel proud.”

“Proud?”

“Like you belonged to me.”

“I did… I do. I’ll always be yours,” I said, hoping he could hear the truth this time. Hear it and own it.

“I know.”

Rook let go of my hand and clutched me to his chest. I let the familiar weight of his arms pull me in, his scent already permeating the fabric of my hoodie, mixing with my detergent. He smelled like home. This wasn’t a hug you gave a friend you’d known since you were nine years old, a friend who was losing his father, or a friend you’d wanted to forgive. This was a free fall and beating hearts. He held our bodies closer, tighter, my breath catching in my throat as he raised his hand to my neck and brushed his lips against my temple. The gesture was too quick and soft, and I thought I might have imagined it.

“I’ll keep the hoodie,” he breathed, the heat of his breath tickling the shell of my ear.

“It looks good on you.” I smiled into his neck when he huffed out a laugh.

Too soon, he pulled away, and the ground under my feet swayed. “Eight o’clock.”

“Pictures and pancakes,” I said, raw and hopeful.

Rook gave me his quiet smile as he got into his car. He started the engine, and as I walked toward the house, he rolled down his window.

“Luka…” he called my name like he’d forgotten something. “I… I’m yours too.”

“Even when you’re mad at me?” I asked, my heart dropping in my stomach, and his full lips pulled into a crooked smile.

“Yeah, Luka. Even then.”

ROOK

“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT,”Luka nearly shouted, a definite hint of disappointment in his tone I hadn’t expected. “You had sex with her?”

“Jesus, Luka, be quiet.” Forks scraped over porcelain plates while a cook in the back hollered through the small serving window at a waitress about something. The buzz of the diner was loud enough I didn’t think anyone had heard, but I sank lower in my seat hoping to disappear into the white-and-green plaid vinyl of the booth.

“Where? God, not in your car?” The disgust on his face made my stomach clench.

“No… not in my car.” I didn’t understand the wounded look on his face. “Are you mad at me?” The strict lines around his eyes softened as he shook his head. “Say what you mean, Luka.”

---