What I’m not expecting is for him to look back at his sister and nod, heart-stopping smile in place, while he motions for her to lead the way.
Margot doesn’t have to be told twice, already rushing toward the girls. And of course they already know one another. Luke takes a step to join them before he pauses, stooping just enough to bring his face level with my own.
“I’m glad Margot made me leave the house,” he says, and if I didn’t feel bad already, that does the trick. I like giving Luke a hard time. But I don’t want to be a dick to the dick, either.
“You’re too well-groomed to be a hermit, anyway,” I tell him, and his smile widens as he follows me over to the blanket.
He approaches Mia first, crouching beside her to say something close to her ear. I have no idea what he’s whispering, but I sense Harlow watching them like a hawk, monitoring Mia’s reaction. Mia nods, smiling as she listens, and then twists to give him a brief hug.
I hear him murmur a quiet, “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re doing so well,” she says, and smiles again when he gives her a chaste kiss on the cheek.
The mood seems to ease a little after this. Even Harlow allows herself a tiny smile at him as everyone shifts over to make room on the blanket, with the enormous picnic lunch in the middle. Luke sits cross-legged beside Lola, and of course it ends up that I take my seat directly between Luke and Margot.
My heart is in my throat. I feel like I’m in a fishbowl, every movement being cataloged and analyzed. Am I sitting too close to him? Acting too familiar? Do I look like I’ve seen him naked? Like I’m imagining it now?
The food is passed around and Margot and the girls jump into easy conversation while Luke and I keep our eyes pinned on the picnic blanket.
When I finally have my nerves under control and look up, Lola catches my eye and smiles a little in reassurance. In her expression, I read the You two are adorable look there. And she’s right: he is fucking adorable. It surprises me how happy I am to see him, but also how much it suddenly sucks that I can’t really enjoy it without pissing off someone really important to me. For her part, Harlow doesn’t seem to be too worried about it; she’s not even looking at us.
“So let me get this straight.” Margot blinks from Luke to me as she unwraps a sandwich. “London said she had to work so she didn’t have to hang out with you?” She is clearly delighted.
One side of Luke’s mouth turns up as he slides his eyes to me. “Apparently.”
It is obvious to me that it would never occur to Margot or Luke that this would be at all weird, and it makes me like them both, just a little bit more.
“Okay, okay,” Margot says, moving to her knees to pull her phone from her back pocket. “Just let me put this in my calendar.” She starts typing. “?‘The day . . . the tables were turned . . . on my dear, sweet brother . . . and a girl made up a work story . . . so she didn’t have to spend time with him.’?” She taps her screen once more as if saving it, and smiles. “There. Noted.”
“Don’t forget to send a group text,” he tells her. “Wouldn’t want to leave Mom and Grams out of the loop.”
She turns her phone to face him. “Oh, the group window is already open.”
Luke shrugs good-naturedly and takes a bite out of his sandwich. “I’m man enough to take this.”
I glance over at Mia and see she’s grinning ear to ear. “At least this time your shame was not captured on film.”
“Oh my God, I forgot about that Homecoming!” Harlow says.
“You think I was ashamed of that?” Luke asks, leaning closer to me. So close that our arms touch from shoulder to elbow.
He’s including me.
He’s making it clear he’s here for me.
He’s saying something to me, and he’s saying something to Mia and all her friends: that is our history. This is my now.
My heart trips over itself, but falls down down down inside my chest when I feel Harlow’s gaze on my face.
I look over to her, redirecting her stern attention. “Okay, what happened at Homecoming?” I ask.
Mia is already laughing, and the sound diffuses the tiny slip of tension that—thankfully—Luke and Margot have yet to notice. “So it’s halftime. Keep in mind, this is our senior year, so the boys give exactly zero shits about good behavior at this point. Everyone’s up in the stands waiting for the drill team to come out, and this group of naked guys wearing masks burst out onto the field.”
I glance at Luke, and realize I’ve been unconsciously leaning just a tiny bit into him. He smells clean, and warm. I smell his soap, and remember how different it was on my own skin. He’s blushing, high along his cheekbones, visible even beneath his tan. He looks like he’s barely keeping himself from laughing, too.
Margot nods. “The local newspaper was there—about two thousand parents with zoom lenses, too—and it was like wagging penis—camera flash—ass—camera flash. Our aunt recognized his butt from the photos Grams sent out to the entire family.” She can barely get the last word out before she falls over, giggling.