Page 36 of Meet Me in the Blue

“I thought we could start at the office.” Luka spoke around a mouthful of pancake, a drip of syrup sticking to the corner of his lip. “Get a few shots of my dad’s office, talk to Charity, and see if your dad would be down to chat as well.”

I stared at the sticky spot on his mouth, half wanting to wipe it with my thumb and half wanting to kiss it away. I’d never enjoyed kissing. The wet and sloppy warmth of another person’s mouth hadn’t ever appealed to me. But I found myself wondering what Luka would taste like. Would he be all nutmeg and maple sugar?

His top teeth sank into the flesh of his bottom lip, nervous and unsure. “Does that sound good to you? Do you think your dad would mind?”

I lowered my eyes to my plate, pushing the remnants of my soggy breakfast around with my fork. “He won’t mind, as long as we grab him between appointments.”

“You’re awfully quiet today,” he said, and the concern in his voice made me raise my head.

“I’m always quiet.” I smiled and his nose crinkled. “And maybe I didn’t sleep great last night again.”

He set his fork down and wiped his mouth. The syrup was gone, smeared on his napkin, and a strange sense of loss coursed through me. “Why do I feel like that’s because of me?”

“Because you’ve always been self-centered.”

“Ouch.” He held his hand to his heart, and I laughed. Luka’s smile stretched up and into his eyes, stunning and honest. “You never sugar-coated shit, I missed that.”

“I’ve missed this,” I said and rested my foot against his under the table. “Honestly, though…” It took me a second to gather up all the things I’d been thinking about, sifting through everything I was too afraid to say. “It was a little bit about you.”

“It was?”

“Do you remember Ella Peterson?”

His brows pinched together as he sat up, spine stiff. “Ella… she’s a blast from the past. Why do you ask?”

“I thought about her last night,” I said and picked at the cuticle on my nail. “And about that morning when I told you I’d slept with her.”

“God… that was ages ago.” He reached across the table, stilling my hand. His thumb, a warm anchor, pressed against my skin. “What made you think of that?”

“You were right,” I said and noticed his posture had relaxed. This was Luka, my best friend, and no amount of time or miles would change that. I used to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him everything again. “I slept with her because I thought I had to.”

“Peer pressure… it’s a bitch.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up my throat and I turned my hand, lacing our fingers together. “I want to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

His eyes, those same icy blue eyes I’d known for most of my life, sparked a fire inside my stomach, the burn of it low and settling.

“When I told you about her you seemed… angry. And I always thought it was because you knew that I’d allowed the guys to get into my head. I thought you were mad because you knew I’d done something I didn’t want to do. In your own way… you knew me better than anyone.”

“I did.” Luka’s grip was steadfast and heavy in my hand, even though his fingers had started to shake.

“Was there more?” I asked and he blinked, his throat working as he bit his bottom lip again.

“Say what you mean, Rook.” He’d thrown my words back at me, and gave me a half smile, pulling the corner of his lip through his teeth.

“Were you angry because I’d let the guys talk me into something I wasn’t ready for, or was there something else going on?”

“I was jealous.” He shook his head, frustrated. “No… that’s not… Why are you asking me this?”

“Luka…” He tried to pull his hand away, but I held on tighter. “Tell me the truth.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice pale and unsteady.

“Because there’s a wall between us, and I can feel it. I think I’ve always felt it.”

“That day… I… Shit…” He stared down at our hands, his palm clammy. “I was heartbroken.” He drew a line along the side of my finger with the tip of his thumb. “I was in deep.”

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