by Randi Rigby
Luke took a minute to respond. Don’t lose faith. He’s still in there.
Is he? I felt close to tears.
He is.
☆ ☽ ☆
Mom and Cal were in the kitchen, eating breakfast. Cal stood at the island, looking tired and tense. I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a back hug. He stiffened, but said nothing. He couldn’t—Mom was watching. “Morning,” I said.
“Harp, before I forget, we’re doing sprints today. No snacking beforehand. I don’t want you throwing up again,” Mom said. “And eat your lunch early.”
I made a face and reached for the smoothie she’d made me.
Mom’s gaze traveled from me to Cal, and then back to me. “You guys okay?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” I shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. Twin code meant not ratting the other out. If Cal wanted Mom to know he’d lost his starting position, he’d have to be the one to tell her.
She utilized her Mom superpower deductive skills. “Cal?”
He started rinsing out his bowl. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”
Mom looked at me again. I grabbed a banana. “Thanks for this.” I held up my smoothie. “I should probably get going. I’ve got a makeup test zero period.”
“Good luck,” Mom said, watching Cal.
“Thanks,” I replied, passing him. “See you at school.”
He didn’t respond.
Luke advised giving Cal some space when I met him at his locker. “You know he can’t stay mad at you.”
I shook my head. “Pre-Jasmine Cal couldn’t stay mad at me. You didn’t see his face.”
Unhurried, he took my right hand in his. The tip of his thumb slipped under my infinity bracelet, and he gently caressed the skin there. “Yeah, but you’re like Chinese water torture, remember? You’ll wear him down.”
I sort of forgot to breathe. Thrown by the tingling sensation from his touch and how my heart hammered, I looked up at Luke. Tenderness radiated from him. It was as surprising as anything I’d just survived with Cal. I felt afraid to speak or move, in case it suddenly evaporated—this slow crawl back to where we’d been before I’d managed to screw us up.
“Merry Christmas!” Ericka said, appearing out of nowhere and thrusting a small, white box at me. Startled, we dropped our hands. “Except Luke can’t see it. Go away.” She shooed at him. “It’s a surprise.”
It felt like he’d been about to say something important—his eyes still lingered, but Erika would not be moved. Shrugging, he closed the door of his locker. “See you at lunch.”
I watched him leave with a slight pang. “Stop checking your boyfriend out,” Ka said. “You can drool later. Look what I found!” She excitedly removed the box lid. Nestled inside sat the perfect earrings for my prom dress. I touched the delicate rose-pink jeweled bobs reverently with my forefinger. Erika was the queen of accessorizing. I knew she’d come through.
“They’re gorgeous, Ka. Where did you find them?”
“That little vintage shop downtown. I couldn’t believe my luck. It’s like they were made for you.”
I glanced up at her. “Do you wish you were going?”
“To prom?” She scoffed. “Hardly. I’m so over high school.”
I believed it. If she could’ve, Erika would’ve skipped her senior year entirely and gone straight to NCU. Carrying on a long-distance relationship wasn’t easy. But that just reminded me there would come a time when I’d have to do this sort of thing without her. I hugged her tightly. “I know. But don’t leave me yet. I’m not ready to let you go.”
We linked arms as we walked down the hall to our first class. “How did Tommy do on his project?” I asked. Ericka’s boyfriend planned on being an engineer.
“Aced it,” she said proudly. “But let’s talk about Luke Drake in a tux. There’s a man you know cleans up good. You better send me pictures. I’m dying to see how you guys look.” She smiled fondly at me. “You two make an adorable couple.”
I bumped her with my arm. “Not bad for faking it.”
She just rolled her eyes. “Right.”
☆ ☽ ☆
Friday felt like a flurry of rushing through school to make appointments. Mom humanely shortened track practice so all the girls could get ready for the dance.
Cal had been in his own world the last couple of days, but—as far as I knew—hadn’t quit the team. Luke even got him to go to Randall’s with him. Jasmine came and watched, but still, it felt like a small victory. I just kept chipping away at his wall—one hug, one nice gesture, one smile at a time. By the time we’d gathered for pictures, the air between us felt slightly less frosty.
Luke got ready for the dance at our house. He and Cal had picked up their tuxes together the night before and left them here so they’d be able to do a quick change after practice. For some reason, Coach Samms didn’t think the guys needed to be let off early to take a shower and run a brush through their hair. It made making any sort of entrance for me a little more tricky.
Cal had already left to fetch Jasmine and Brad and Sasha—the limo they’d rented was picking them up at our house. Luke sat at the kitchen island, talking to Mom in his tux when I came floating down the stairs. I felt pretty. There was something about putting in the effort— knowing you’d found the perfect dress and accessories, your makeup was flawless, and that for once, your hair wouldn’t fail you—that boosted your confidence.
“Oh baby, just look at you,” Mom gushed, reaching for her camera.
Luke hadn’t stopped. From the moment he’d caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye and turned in his stool before getting to his feet, his eyes never left me. It made me suddenly shy.
“You’re . . . so . . . beautiful,” he said.
Erika nailed it. Luke Drake took formal wear to the next level. His dark coloring was a perfect foil for the champagne-colored tux he’d chosen. He could’ve easily just stepped off a runway. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume he wore this kind of thing every day instead of it being his first time. With his broad shoulders and muscular frame, he filled out the lines gorgeously, and he seemed perfectly at ease in it. Cal would be tugging at his collar all night. I swallowed hard. “So are you.” Reaching out, I tentatively touched his bow tie. “You figured it out.”
He looked sheepish. “Your mom did it for me.”
I smiled at him. “She does everyone’s.”
“That’s true,” Dad said, striding into the kitchen. “I thought I married her because she knocked my socks off, but trust me, every time we have to get dressed up, I’m reminded once again how much I lucked out. Wow! You two look very red carpet.” He hugged Luke, pounding him on the back, and kissed me carefully on the forehead. “We’re recording this epic moment, right?”
“Absolutely. Let’s go into the backyard. I found the perfect spot for pictures,” Mom said. She positioned us by the stone wall by the pool. It was out of the sun enough that we wouldn’t be squinting or washed out, and the colors in the rock beautifully complemented our clothes.
Mom acted like it was a photo shoot. She directed shots—telling Luke to hold me, for us to look into each other’s eyes, and for me to put my arms around a seated Luke’s neck and move in closer. Thank heavens Cal and Jasmine, and Brad and Sasha, arrived when they did. I’d grown worried her next order would involve kissing.
We’d just finished with our group pictures when a black, vintage Camaro pulled up. “Coach?” I said in disbelief as he got out, all dressed up in a black suit. On his head sat a driver’s cap. “What are you doing here?”
“Being your chauffeur.” He shook Dad’s hand and tipped his hat to Mom. Cal obviously had no idea Coach would be showing up at our house. He moved awkwardly to the back of the group but acknowledged Coach with a nod. “You kids ready to go?”
Luke put out his hand. I took it.
“Your chariot awaits,” Coach said. He made a big show of sliding the seat forward and stepping aside, gesturing with a sweep
of his arm for us to climb into the back.
“How did you ever get him to agree to this?” I whispered to Luke as he slid in next to me.
“He likes you,” Luke said softly.
I could see Coach watching us in his rear-view mirror. He winked. I grinned.
This was already going to be the best night ever.
14
Luke
Coach’s wife, Tip—she refused to be called anything else—helped me with dinner. When Coach pulled up to Lincoln Elementary’s playground, she already had the table set with a white linen tablecloth, china, crystal, and candles. Soft music played in the background. As we approached it, Harper’s eyes grew huge with wonder. “You did all this?”
I shook my head. “Tip did. She also made us dinner.” I indicated the chicken cordon bleu plated with a drizzle of sauce and some sort of green onion looking garnish sliced vertically and a side salad. I would’ve been happy with just sandwiches, but Tip really outdid herself. She stepped out now, dressed all in black, her hair pulled back, with a snowy white napkin draped over one arm. Smiling pleasantly, she poured us some sparkling cider and told us to eat before everything got cold.
“Why here?” Harper asked me, head tilted, curious as she cut into her dinner and looked around at our former grade school. We were on the stretch of cement we’d played four square and basketball on as kids.
I slowly smiled. “We had our first fight here.”
She laughed. “You’re horrible. Why are we celebrating that?”
I shrugged, feeling a little sheepish. “I guess I wanted to remind us of how far we’ve come.”
“Have we?” Harper suddenly sobered. “I think I’m just as ornery now as I was back then.”
“I don’t know—you’ve stopped throwing things at me.”
She made a face. “Baby steps?”
I felt slightly dazzled by the softness in her eyes. “Baby steps.”
No one could make me laugh like Harper. Her spot-on impression of her dad finding the silicone breast pads Jasmine had lent her and Harper had left on the kitchen counter, made my eyes water and stomach hurt. I’d forgotten how easy it was to be with her.
In our crash and tumble of friction, hurt, and aching, there’d always existed this need to keep her close. I just never understood why. Seeing her grin—the way her eyes lit up with unholy laughter—wrapped around my heart and healed me. In the face of being homeless and abandoned, my future uncertain, I felt like I could suddenly breathe again.
Until she reached out and touched me.
I’d spent years studying Harper’s face—my survival early on depended on it. She seemed to be absorbing me now like a sponge. “I love you like this,” she said. Slowly, her fingers trailed from my hand to my infinity bracelet. My gaze fell to them and then back up to her. The air between us somehow changed, grew electric and new. A smart man would back out now while he still could. But I’d never been smart where Harper Adams was concerned.
We thanked Tip for the wonderful dinner and wordlessly got back into Coach’s car. I felt hyper-aware of the girl next to me. As we made our way into the dance, hand in hand, there seemed to be a bubble around the two of us. People stopped us to talk, the room felt crowded, the music loud, but I only knew I had Harper on my arm. Her gaze slid to mine, and in that moment, she was all I could see. A slow song came on. Without speaking, we found our way to the dance floor. It felt like an excuse to do what I’d wanted since she’d first come down the stairs in that dress. I held her close. I never wanted to stop.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” I said, my voice a low rumble in her ear.
She smiled. “You can tell me again. I spent hours getting ready.”
I gently brushed her earlobe and sparkling earring with my finger. “I’m going to say something that might make you mad.”
Harper looked up at me in surprise. “What?”
“You’re just as pretty to me in sweats.”
She blushed and laughed. “I guess that’s a good thing since I practically live in them. But thank you.” Her head tilted back so she could see my face better. Reaching up, she touched my jawline and then my scar. “Who knew the broody guy could be so charming?” And she moved in closer.
Feeling happier than I had in some time, we found Cal and Jasmine. Cal seemed somewhat subdued—unusual for him. More often than not, he was the life of the party. Harper kept glancing over at him, her green eyes at odds with the smile she wore. I squeezed her hand. We got this.
Throwing an arm around Cal’s shoulder, I reminded him of the time he’d tried to teach Tucker how to do the worm. For an athlete, Tuck had trouble controlling his limbs. Essential body equipment had been injured in his attempt. Thinking about it never failed to make Cal laugh. Sure enough, out came that famous Cal Adams grin, and then chuckle. He shook his head, remembering. The more we talked about it, the better his mood became.
Harper, who had been around the team plenty, threw in her own Tucker anecdote—the time he’d eaten a hot dog piled with so much mustard it spurted out the bottom and onto his lap. He’d tried to clean it off his uniform with Sprite because he thought he’d heard somewhere it would remove the stain, but it just ended up smeared all over his crotch—a messy, now sticky, wet mess no one could miss. A little kid gawking even asked his mother, quite loudly, if Tuck had peed his pants. With Harper’s gift for mimicking people, it felt like it’d just happened. We roared with laughter.
In a piece of epic timing, Tucker walked by with his date, Amy Childs. He grinned and waved, completely unaware he’d been the source of our entertainment, setting us all off again once he was safely gone. Savagely roasting Tuck had done the trick. Cal’s easy smile returned. He seemed relaxed and ready to enjoy himself. He and Jasmine hit the dance floor. Harper high-fived me. “We make a good team,” she said with a grin of her own.
“We do.” I agreed.
“So how do we get rid of Jasmine?”
We both stared at her and Cal. He only had eyes for her. She always seemed to be on the lookout for someone better. She flashed a smile at Miller that appeared like it was meant to be sexy, but his polite indifference was almost laughable. “It won’t come from Cal,” I warned. “I already tried that.”
“I know. He’s so gone he wouldn’t be able to see it if it hit him in the face.” She sighed and leaned into me. I liked having her in my arms. “The pageant’s taken up some of her time, but we need something more.”
“Like what?”
“Someone hot—who’s not you.”
“Okay,” I felt myself smiling. She thinks I’m hot. “Who?”
We surveyed the room; being tall had its advantages. Harper chewed on her bottom lip, a sign she was deep in thought. “I don’t know. All the good guys are taken.”
I took her word for it.
“Not that that’s stopped her before,” Harper made a face, still looking around for possible Cal replacements.
We danced, we laughed, we talked—and Harper remained slightly distracted the whole time. Even when she chatted brightly with Coach on the way home, thanking him profusely for driving us and hugging him at the end of the night, her mind seemed to be elsewhere.
We sat in the dark in her backyard—only the patio lights were on— by the pool on their swinging bench, still in our finery. “You okay?” I’d given her my jacket to keep her warm. It swamped her. “Harp?”
She looked up at me, surprised. “Sorry, what?”
“Something on your mind?”
She’d taken off her shoes. Her bare toes scrunched up the lush grass at her feet. She looked almost tiny in my tux coat—her hands had disappeared entirely in the sleeves. “I’ve gone through the entire senior class and even some of the juniors. I’ve got nothing. Do you think we could interest her in a teacher? Mr. Brownley is super hot, and he’s even single.”
He taught Drama, and most of the girls called him Clark Kent—I guess because he wore dark-rimmed glasses and worked out. He coul
dn’t have been older than twenty-five. “That’s illegal.”
She turned to me, gathering her skirt to tuck her feet underneath her. “She wouldn’t care.”
“He would.”
“Ugh. There has to be someone I’m not thinking of. What if we—?”
I leaned over and put a finger on her lips. “Stop.”
“But I—”
I shook my head, smiling at her. “Enough. We can plot against Jasmine tomorrow.”
She frowned. “You have something better to do?”
“Yeah. I do,” I said, slowly slipping my hands behind her neck and gently tilting her head back.
“Are you going to kiss me?” Harper said. Her green eyes had grown wide with surprise.
“I was thinking about it.” And had been all night.
She suddenly looked nervous, something Harper Adams rarely was. She moistened her lips. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered, almost luminous in the soft glow from the patio lights.
“Me either,” I said. My heart thrummed dangerously against my chest. I’d spent years with this girl in my face—the heat between us often went nuclear. There was a good chance this might all be a big mistake. One I’d pay dearly for. But the force pulling us together felt stronger than any that ripped us apart.
My thumb gently brushed her bottom lip and then moved to the little mole tucked just under the left corner of her mouth. I’d become obsessed with it lately. How many nights had I lain awake thinking of pressing my lips there—claiming it as mine? I felt dizzy and drawn. Almost unbelieving, I searched Harper’s eyes to make sure this was really okay. That I wasn’t dreaming.
Her gaze had not left my mouth. Her fingers curled into my hair as she brought me toward her. As the space between us slowly closed, I could hear her breath catch. My mouth hovered briefly, and I closed my eyes, wanting only to feel my way to her. Our lips touched, light as a feather, a teasing exploration neither of us could resist for long. In the flood of sensations coursing through my blood and brain as I fell into Harper’s kiss, I clung to one. At last, I’d found home.