I sit, eyes zeroing in on the two figures across the lawn, a fit twentysomething guy I recognize, and a girl. Of course there’s a girl.
“London? Are you okay?” Lola snaps her fingers in front of my face and I blink back to the conversation. Judging from her expression, I must look like I swallowed a tennis ball.
“Damnit,” I hiss, and hunch down. I’m not sure if I’m trying to hide or find a way to escape, but I’m almost positive that’s Luke across the park and that I am absolutely not supposed to be here. He’s also the last person I want to see when Harlow and Mia are sitting right next to me.
“What is it?” Mia asks before she sees him over Lola’s shoulder, too. “Oh. Oh.”
“I should never lie,” I mumble to myself. I look around at the blanket, at the food we were just starting to unpack. Lola looks at me in question, so I add, “I told Luke I was doing inventory today and now he’s here.”
“Oh,” Lola says as well, followed by another “Ohhhh,” as she gets what I mean.
Harlow—who up until this point hasn’t been paying attention—follows my gaze before looking back at me. “Why did you tell him you were doing inventory?”
I look at her incredulously for a beat before deciding now is not the time to point out that she shouldn’t be complaining about me making up excuses to not see him since she didn’t seem too thrilled with me seeing him in the first place. “He called and asked me out,” I tell her, and ignore the slow rise of her eyebrows. “It just . . . it wasn’t a good idea, and so I lied.”
“There was your first mistake,” Lola says. “You couldn’t even keep a straight face when I asked if you ate all my Corn Flakes.”
“I didn’t expect him to be here, did I?”
“Well,” Harlow says, “whatever your story is, you’d better get it ready.” She sits up, plastering a calm, oblivious expression on her face and muttering, “Because if that’s Luke, he’s headed this way.”
I’m almost afraid to look, but when I do peek behind me, I see that Harlow is right; Luke is walking toward us, a tall brunette at his side.
I stand, wiping off the butt of my shorts and attempt to meet him halfway. If I’m going to make a fool of myself, I’d rather it be out of earshot.
Unfortunately, he’s faster than I am.
“Logan?” he says, looking at me before leaning to one side to see the girls behind me. He takes in my outfit—cutoffs and a thin white T-shirt, my bare feet—the blanket stretched out on the grass and the basket of food, and it clearly doesn’t take him long to piece together that I’m not just here on a break from inventory duties.
“Hey,” I say, squinting into the sun. I’m hoping my sunglasses are enough to hide the way my eyes keep trying to skim down his body. He’s tan and wearing a yellow T-shirt and loose khaki shorts, and I must have pissed someone off in a previous life because Luke Sutter is possibly the hottest guy I’ve ever known. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He looks confused for a moment before he shakes his head. “I was at the zoo. My sister accosted me and forced me out of the house.”
“He was turning into a weirdo,” the girl cuts in. She’s really pretty, and it takes my brain about two seconds to process what he’s said, that this is his sister. The same one who drags him shopping and makes him buy her tampons, who forced him into child labor in her doll salon and gives him epic amounts of shit. I don’t even know Margot and she’s already one of my favorite people. “So you’re Logan.”
“London,” Luke corrects under his breath and, if anything, her smile grows. She has the same thick dark hair and brown eyes, the same perfect smile that seems to light up her entire face.
“I know, baby brother. Lord knows I’ve heard you talk about her enough. London this and London that. Margot,” she says, pointing to her chest. “Big sister, favorite child.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, too,” I say. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
With a hand cupping her entire face, Luke pushes his sister behind him and takes a step toward me. I don’t have to be a genius to know she’s going to pay him back for that later. “You didn’t really have to work, did you?” he says, eyes theatrically wide. And oh, shit, he knew I brushed him off and is now completely relishing having caught me. “Oh my God, is it possible sweet London lied to me about inven—?”
“Why don’t you guys come eat with us?” I blurt, and motion to where everyone is sitting behind me, surely listening to every word. I look over my shoulder and of course they’re all waving. Even Harlow.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe I thought he would smile in that way that makes my legs feel less than steady, and insist he didn’t want to impose. Maybe I thought he’d make some sort of scene, having figured out that I lied because I didn’t want to hang out with him.