He just gave that maddening half-smile. “Summer can be a bit much, but she means no harm.”
“Yeah, no, it’s fine. Thank you.” I leaned against the counter, grateful for the distraction. “They’re great people. The alcohol’s just making me more emotional than usual.”
Luke’s brow softened, a flicker of concern crossing his face before he smoothed it away.
We went upstairs and entered the room in silence. The sadness still lingered, and I felt the need for a tissue. Or maybe just a moment to breathe. I slipped into the bathroom and flicked the light switch—only to freeze. The room didn’t blaze with harsh white light as I’d expected. Instead, the ceiling glowed softly, strung with warm Christmas lights that cast a golden haze over the tiles. It felt less like a bathroom and more like stepping into a secret hideout.
“Wow.”
“What?” Luke’s voice came from behind as he walked in. He looked up at the lights. “Well, I’ll be damned. This will make shower time interesting.”
Luke’s warm hands invaded my mind. Thank God, the lights hid my face. I grabbed a tissue and walked out to the balcony, taking in the view.
“Hey, be careful there,” Luke leaned against the door, hesitant to step closer.
“Don’t worry. I’m gonna be okay.”
“I know you’re gonna be okay, you’re not a dog left in a hot car, I’m just saying...”
I leaned against the ledge, eyes closed, savoring the final rays of sun. Luke’s quiet presence hovered just behind me, close enough that I could feel the subtle shift of air whenever he moved. When I opened my eyes, he was right next to me, gripping the railing. He looked relaxed, but his fingers were tense.
“Did they make you sad?” he asked, his gaze flicking from me to the distant ocean. There was a long silence, but he didn’t leave me. He stayed. Here. With me.
“It’s not that I don’t like talking about my mom. And it’s not that I’m ashamed of how I feel either.” I traced the fading colors along the horizon, letting the words settle in my own head before I spoke again. “Grief is the proof that she mattered. I love her. So much.”
For a moment, the only sound was the wind. Luke didn’t move, just waited, holding space for me.
“It’s the way others talk about her that always gets to me.” He shifted slightly on the balcony, and I felt the weight of his presence even without looking at him. “I’m always Anne Ridley’s daughter. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not an ego thing. But right after she died, they continued to call me that. I always had to be the daughter, even though...” I hesitated. “...I didn’t get to have my mother anymore. I kept being the daughter.”
I choked up on the last words, smiling to hold back the tears. I took a deep breath and looked at Luke. He was still there, listening. No pity, just compassion.
“This night just brought that feeling back.” I averted my gaze. “I know they’re good people.”
“Well,” he cleared his throat, letting his gaze drift to the ocean, “you’ve only known them a day. Maybe your view has been clouded by the sisterhood you’ve clearly joined.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ve only known them for a day, sure—but the chicken tenders?” I lifted a brow. “Those have been in my life longer. Honestly, I see them more than I see my dad. So, if you average it out, I’ve basically known all of you for, what, half a year?”
He glanced back at me, a corner of his mouth tugging up.
“Not bad for a group of friends.”
We both smiled at our made-up silly math, and I let out a long breath, a bit of the heaviness lifting.
“Not bad at all,” he agreed softly.
15
Luke
My hands slid up her thighs, fingertips grazing that silk-soft skin, slow and greedy like I had all the time in the world and every intention to use it. Somewhere in the background, a beach shimmered. The taste of ripe fruit lingered on my tongue—papaya, maybe mango. Or maybe it was her. Then suddenly, I was holding her. I reached for her ponytail, swinging in the light breeze, curled my fingers around it, and gently pulled. A soft moan slipped free as her neck arched, bare and inviting. I breathed her in, pressing a tender kiss to the delicate curve. Then her eyes met mine, daring me to go further.
And fuck, I was going to.
Bam! I jolted upright, heart pounding, as the window slammed shut and morning light spilled into the room. I exhaled slowly. I had a sex dream. But did I, though? It certainly felt like it.
After a minute of staring at the ceiling with my mind still foggy, it was clear I wasn’t going back to sleep. I crept to Hazel’s door, gently pushing it open, careful not to make any noise, but her bed was empty. A wave of relief swept over me, tinged unexpectedly with disappointment.
After the shower rinsed away the last traces of the dream, I made my way downstairs. Laughter floated up from the kitchen. Hazel, Alex, and Ava were sitting around the table, eating breakfast. Hazel was in jean shorts and a white T-shirt, her hair tied back in a cute ponytail.
