Page 100 of The Sweet Spot

I’ve never had this much sex in my life—Saira says we’re in the honeymoon stage. Maybe we are. All I know is that we’re addicted to each other, and I don’t ever want to go to rehab. The last time I felt so caught up in a guy it was high school. Sean Bunker, my first love, first everything. I remember thinking, when we broke up at the end of junior year, that I couldn’t imagine ever wanting someone so much again.

But I want Luca more than I ever wanted him.

The one thing we don’t do is talk about the summer. I don’t know if he’s made any decisions regarding his dad’s offer because I won’t ask and he won’t bring it up. In my heart of hearts, I suspect he’ll go. According to what he’s told me, it’s what he always does.

Tonight, we slide into a space in front of my building. This is the part I hate, knowing that in a few minutes we’ll be apart again. I try to tell myself it’s just for a few hours, but my heart’s having none of that.

“You got some studying to do, huh?” Luca slides his arm over my shoulder as we walk toward the door.

“Yeah.” I nod. “I took good notes, so I’m not too worried, but this’ll be the last one before finals. I need to do well.”

A small group is coming out as we go in. They hold the door open for us and we slip inside, murmuring thanks. It’s Sunday night, and the building’s buzzing—all the people that headed out of town over the three-day weekend are settling back in.

Our door’s wide open. Leighton’s pawing through her desk as we walk inside. “Oh, hey y’all.”

“What’re you looking for?” I give her a quick hug.

She frowns, scratching her head. “My charger, dammit. Can I borrow yours?”

“Go ahead; you know where it is.”

She disappears into the side of the room I share with Saira. Luca pulls me closer by the belt loop and I slide my arms around his waist. We stare at each other, and then I tip-toe to kiss him, closing my eyes as his lips warm mine.

“Happy studying,” he says, squeezing me before letting go.

“You too. Are you going to the pool in the morning?”

He nods. “Around nine. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.”

My heart warms. “Okay.”

His dark eyes shine. “Okay.”

I lean in the doorway and watch him leave, my heart stuttering when he glances back with a wave.

Leighton watches from across the room with a little smile. “Y’all are really, really cute. I can’t even lie.”

Sighing, I shut the door and lock it.

“Any word on Brazil?” she asks, flopping down onto the couch.

I shake my head. Leighton and Saira know all about the situation. I had to tell them—it’s all I can think about. When I’m with Luca, it’s easy to forget. He kisses me, lays me down and does things to my body that leave me weak and brainless. He looks at me with those whiskey eyes, talks to me, teases me, and all I can do is savor the present moment. It’s when he leaves that things get hard.

When he’s not around to distract me with himself.

“I know I should just ask him,” I say, sitting beside my friend. “It’s been weeks since he brought it up. But I’m so afraid of what he’ll say. At least this way I can pretend.”

“Ignorance is bliss,” agrees Leighton. “But it can’t last forever. I think you should just bite the bullet.”

In the morning, I head to my Art of Happiness class. It’s my favorite class, the only one I break my nothing-before-nine a.m. rule for. The professor talks about the importance of keeping short accounts, of talking about issues before they can fester, and though Luca and I aren’t having issues, it feels like confirmation.

* **

Luca and I head to the beach early on a Friday morning, when the sky is still a little pink. He’s been trying to get to the beach as much as possible these days, wanting to get some surfing in before summer responsibilities—like a job—kick in. My surf lessons have been sporadic, but that’s okay. Sometimes I’d rather just watch him go for it while I lie on the beach and take pictures with my phone. Other days I stare at the clouds, letting the crash of waves lull me to daydreams.

But today is a lesson, which is why we chose this particular beach. Cowell Beach is a little gentler, better for beginners. We’ve been going for about an hour when Kellan and some guy I don’t know show up. They goof off on the shore for a bit before swimming out on their boards, gracefully riding the waves I’ve been struggling with.

“My arms feel like jelly,” I groan after a while, lying on my belly as a gentle swell lifts us. I can’t lie, this is hard as hell. But I see why Luca loves it, and I think with time I might love it, too.

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