Page 85 of The Sweet Spot

Laughing, he nods. “Hell yeah; you’re coming with me and Kell before class starts up again. Bring your pops.”

Grinning, I settle back into my seat. “Sounds like a plan. Speaking of Kellan, I’m almost afraid of what we’re gonna find when we get to his parents’ house.”

“It’s getting crazy, no doubt. Saira’s in good hands, though.”

I smirk. “I’m sure she is.”

Luca cuts a sly glance my way, giving me a little smirk of his own. “I was surprised she went over there by herself.”

“What?” Vaguely alarmed, I look over at him. I still feel protective overSaira after what happened to her freshman year. “Why?”

“Nothing bad,” he says quickly, touching my arm. “Kellan’s the best guy I know—I vouch for him a hundred percent. I’m just saying…she and Kellan don’t really know each other yet.”

“She probably wouldn’t have normally, but…he made an impression,” I say, remembering the blatant interest glittering in my best friend’s eyes when I’d mentioned Kellan’s invitation earlier. It was the first time in a long time she’d seemed like her old self when it came to guys. “She won’t chase a guy, but she won’t play coy, either.”

Friday night traffic slows us down, but I don’t mind. I like the extra time with Luca. Every glance, word and laugh shoves my heart into a new rhythm.

“So, you mentioned taking a break from school,” I begin, tucking my leg beneath me as I twist to face him. “Does that mean hanging out all summer, or getting a job or what?”

“A job,” he says. “Even if it’s just a part-time position. I have some money saved up, but there’s rent to pay, groceries to buy.”

“Oh, that’s true. I don’t know why I thought you’d go back home for the summer.”

“Nah.” Luca laughs. “Mãe’s not the hardass that my dad is, but she wouldn’t be okay with me camping out in her house all summer long.”

“Any ideas of where you might work?”

“There’s an architecture firm in Berkeley I interned at one summer a couple years ago. I was supposed to work there last summer, paid, but my dadconvinced me to join him in São Paulo.”

It’s a scenario he’s mentioned to me more than once, this far-away father who continually lures him away to work in the family business despite Luca’s dwindling interest in it. I mean, part of me gets it. If Arlo wanted me to travel around the world as his photo assistant, I would. In a heartbeat.

But not forever. At some point, you have to do what you want to do and not what’s expected or desired of you.

By the time we turn onto the Morgans’ long, winding driveway, it’s nearly nine o’clock. A restless breeze blows, sending wisps of clouds racing across a fat, round moon. Luca bypasses the crowded circular drive and goes for the garage, where he parks beside a black SUV.

Loud music, punctuated by shrieks of laughter, voices and splashing, meets us as we walk up to the front door. Opening an unlocked side door, Luca reaches back to take my hand as we make our way through the house. It’s strange being here again, but with him this time.

I peek at the solarium as we pass by, remembering being pressed close to this boy as “Blue Christmas” played.

Luca lets go of me in the kitchen and makes a beeline for the fridge. “You want something to drink? They’ve got everything except for decent beer.”

I peer over his shoulder into the cavernous refrigerator. There’s a big, rounded bottle full of what looks like wine with fruit floating around in it. “Is that sangria?”

“Yeah, Kellan’s mom made it. You want some?”

“Please.”

Drinks in hand, we go out onto the deck. I don’t recognize too many of the people mingling around, but I do hear a familiar laugh. Saira’s sitting on the steps of the pool, Kellan in the water below, cozied up between her legs as they share a smoke. A joint, probably. Saira would sooner chew off her arm than smoke a cigarette.

Sliding his hand into mine, Luca ambles down the steps and out into the yard. We maneuver between a rowdy game of cornhole and a semi-circle of lawn chairs filled with people. My eyes meet Matt’s, and he grins, pointing at me.

“Hey, Sweet Spot.”

“Hi, Matt.”

Luca looks down at me, a lazy smile tugging at his mouth. “He thinks you’re the best thing since PlayStation.”

Warmth unspools in my chest at the unexpected compliment. “Aw, really?”

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