“What’syourfavorite thing about me?” I ask before I can really contemplate what I’m saying. Why in the fuck am I asking Lucas that about myself?
“I’m not telling. Maybe one day.” He grins, lifts his camera, and takes another photo of me.
I cover my face with my hand but only hear moreclick, click, click. I don’t like or dislike having my photo taken, never gave it much thought, but I find myself being playful about itwith Lucas. “No photos, Mr. Paparazzi.” I teasingly grab his arm as he keeps snapping.
Lucas laughs, pulling away, taking more, dancing around me. Before I realize what’s happening, I wrap my arms around his waist from behind, so he can’t aim at me. His body is warm, slightly sweaty as he presses against me, trying to break free. I don’t loosen my hold, though, continuing this game I started out of nowhere.
Lucas’s foot hits something, or hell, maybe our feet get tangled together, and we’re stumbling off the trail, until my back hits a tree. Somehow, in the midst of us almost falling, Lucas got turned around, and now his chest is against mine, groin against mine, quick puffs of his breath in my face like he’s slightly winded from our wrestling match.
Then…we both stop breathing. Neither of us moves. My arms are around his waist. I can smell sea salt on his skin, and something else…apples, maybe. My heart slams against my chest, and for a second, I worry he can feel it, that he can feel my heart beating, seconds from breaking through my chest. He’s so close, and he smells so good, and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong…
Lucas pulls away first. “Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t know how I lost my balance.”
I clear my throat. “It’s fine. No worries.”
But it’s not fine. It’s not fine at all. If we had stayed there a second longer, I might have kissed my late boyfriend’s brother. Best friend’s brother? All are wrong.
I should leave right now. We should go back to the car, I’ll drop Lucas off, and then we’ll go back to the way things used to be, go back to not talking…
“You’re not going to quit on me now?” he asks, taking a few steps away from me, in the direction we were going. “You’re the one who wanted to go on this hike. Don’t give up on me.”
Does he know I almost kissed him? That I almost betrayed his brother by kissing him, and that my lips feel lonely not getting to know what he tastes like?
“Hunt? You giving up?” he presses.
I haven’t moved from my spot, as if his body had stuck me to the tree. But he’s giving me an excuse to keep going, to not walk away. Maybe it’s on purpose, maybe it’s not, but regardless, I’m going to grab it.
“Fuck no, I don’t give up.” And then I’m walking with him again, deeper into the canyon.
Lucas doesn’t take any more photos of me, only of our surroundings.
“Is that a film camera?” I ask, surprised.
“It is.”
“I didn’t realize that’s a thing people still used.” He flips me off as if I’m talking shit, but I’m being serious. “For real.”
“I mostly use a digital. I still enjoy film, though, and I develop them myself. The photos I take with this are mostly for me.”
You took photos of me. Are those for you?
Why?
“I remember when you used to develop photos when we were kids.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot you would know that.”
“I’d like to see your darkroom sometime.” It’s not something I would have ever asked him back then. While Lucas was like family to me the way the rest of them were, and I did try to be nice to him, I didn’t really show interest in him or the things he liked. I don’t know if that’s because he was my best friend’s—and then my boyfriend’s—little brother, or if I did it because I’m more of an asshole than I want to admit and didn’t want to frustrate Coach Blake.
“Hmm… I don’t know if I trust you enough to show you that.”
“You’ve known me most of your life, and you don’t trust me to see you develop photos?” Maybe what he really means is he doesn’t think we should hang out again. Is that what he’s trying to say? The thought leaves me feeling empty, like the world around me got a little dimmer, which makes absolutely no sense. This isLucas.
“Only special people get to see me develop. You have to earn it.” And then the motherfucker winks at me, making my stomach feel light. Still, to save face, I flip him off.
“Fine. I don’t want to see your photos anyway.”
“Tell yourself that all you want. I know the truth.”
