Page 55 of Meet Me in the Blue

“Shh, it’s okay, baby. It’s alright.” I quickly moved for the back door, and she darted around me, nearly cutting me down at the knees. “Jesus.”

“She can come back with us,” Luka offered, picking up the pillows from the floor and tossing them on the couch. “My mom loves her, and most of the people will have cleared out by the time we get back.”

Maribelle barked somewhere in the distance, and I sighed. “I better check on her. When she’s like this I can’t trust her to be by herself, she may chase an imaginary animal all the way to Puget Sound. I won’t be long.”

“Don’t stress about it. I’m not in that huge of a hurry to get back.” He dropped a quick, chaste kiss to my lips. “I’ll wait in here, though, it’s cold as fuck outside.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I closed the door behind me and shoved my hands into the pocket on my jacket as I walked toward the dock. The wind had picked up, the soft roar almost blotting out Maribelle’s distant yapping. I whistled for her, and she came running, kicking up the dirt and damp grass behind her. She leapt in the air, then circled me a few times. I got down on her level and she panted as I dug my fingers into her fur. “You want to go with me to Luka’s?” I asked and she snuffed her hot breath in my face. I’d take that as a yes. “Alright then, go potty.”

I stood to my full height as she trotted off into the trees, waiting for her to do what she needed to do. Out here, in the clean, crisp air, it wasn’t as difficult to process the conversation I’d had with Luka without his scent clouding my thoughts. It was easy to forget myself in the familiarity of him, in the possibility of us. What would my life look like with him at my side? We’d had a lifetime to know each other already. But not like this. The intimacy of friendship was bicycle chain-grease-stained fingernails and scraped-up elbows and knees, it was sleepovers and Saturday morning cartoons, and knowing what kind of milk he liked with his Frosted Flakes. It was stinky socks and swearing because it made us feel older. It was leaving and homesickness and writing essays alone in a dorm. This heat I had, this constant pilot light burning inside me when I looked at Luka, when his lips were on mine, it wasn’t something I recognized. It was different and real, and I wanted it to become a part of our history as well as our future. He was made for me. And I was his too. I knew that now, knew it as well as I knew my own way through my house with the lights off. The way I knew he had changed, but he was still my home.

Maribelle licked my fingers, breaking me from my whirling thoughts, and we went inside. Luka wasn’t in the kitchen, or the living room, and the bathroom downstairs was empty too. I filled up Belle’s water bowl, and when I headed upstairs, I found Luka sitting on the edge of the guestroom bed.

“Are you okay?”

He raised his head, the low light of the room making it hard to read his mood. “Did you sleep in here all week?”

“What?” I diverted, embarrassment leaking into my cheeks, my face flushing with heat. I hadn’t made the bed this morning and the sheets were bunched into a tangle. The pillow Luka had slept on when he’d stayed over was situated in a way it would be hard to deny I hadn’t snuggled the hell out of it the last few nights. “Uh…”

Luka stood and crossed the room, his cocky smile making an appearance. These past few days it had felt like I’d never see it again. “Your bed is still made.”

“You went in my room?” I asked, not because I cared, but more because I was trying to evade the truth.

He stepped into my space, backing me into the hallway.

“The door is open.”

“Oh…”

He rested his hands on my chest, and it was as if his palms were charged with electricity. My heart stumbled over itself, warmth pooling inside my stomach—the air pleasantly thin as he craned his neck to look at me.

“My bed doesn’t smell like you,” I admitted, unable to hide the longing in my voice.

“Maybe we should change that.”

Luka nuzzled his nose into my neck, and my hands pressed into his lower back. “Now?” He lightly bit the lobe of my ear, sending a jolt of sparks down my spine. I clung to the fabric of his shirt, hesitant to start something after the day he’d had. “Shouldn’t we get back?”

“We have time.” He kissed my jaw and pressed his mouth to the curve of my Adam’s apple. “I need this. Need you.”

“Luka,” I hedged, and he pulled away, the desire in his eyes dying, his pupils constricting until all I could see was a sea of watery blue. “It’s been a hard day, and I know you want to escape it but—”

“That’s not what this is about.” He pushed out of my hold, the crease between his brows a deep gash of hurt. “You know what? Forget it. You’re right, we should go.”

He turned to leave and was almost to the stairs when I found my voice. “Luka…” I didn’t realize. I thought maybe he needed a way to forget, a way to remove himself from reality. And I could. I could be that for him again. But I wanted more. “Say what you mean.”

He spun around and scrubbed his hands through his hair. His tie was askew, his dress shirt rumpled. He was a mess and all I wanted to do was kiss him. Kiss away all that frustration and anger. “This isn’t aboutescaping. I haven’t had a chance to be alone with you all week. All I wanted was a moment to be with you, and I get it… Fuck… You think I’m using you, and—”

I didn’t let him finish the poisoned thought, grasping the back of his neck, I pulled him into a bruising kiss, drinking away the words. Without breaking the kiss, he shoved my jacket over my shoulders, and I wiggled my arms. We were all teeth and tongues, and biting lips until it fell to the floor, both of us tripping on it as he backed me into my room. Stumbling, we bumped into the doorjamb. He laughed against my mouth, and the sound of it went straight to my groin. He was himself again, light, and stunning, and tasted sweet on my tongue. Any apprehension I had melted away with our ties and shirts and shoes where they laid discarded somewhere by the foot of my bed. Luka pushed me onto my back, crawling over my body like he couldn’t wait one more second to touch me. I ran my hand over his stomach, over the dips and valleys, resting my palms on his hips, my thumb tracing the sharp V above the waistline of his pants. He stared down at me, mesmerized with a lopsided grin, his mop of hair almost covering his eyes.

“I want to taste you,” he said, and my grip on his hips tightened. “I want to show you what it can feel like when it’s with someone you trust.”

Nerves rocked through me, and he bent over, kissing the hollow of my throat. My hands slid up his ribcage as he kissed his way down my chest. He spent time licking and sucking each of my nipples, my breath catching in my throat with a hoarse moan as he nibbled the skin. My cock ached, the feeling so unfamiliar I shook with it. I lifted my hips, needing something, anything, and everything he could give me. Luka looked up at me through his lashes with the sexiest smile I’d ever seen.

“You still with me?” he whispered, peppering wet kisses over my belly. His soft lips dusted against my skin as he spoke, my back arching into the husky confidence of his voice. “You can tell me to stop anytime.”

“I’m with you,” I breathed, and he unhooked my belt.

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