Chapter 12
Harper
“Keep up!” I shout to Luke as we make our way through the city. It’s dark now, and the city nightlife is . . . about the same as it was during the day. There are a few people milling about, going in and out of restaurants, but it never feels crowded like it does back home.
“Why are you running?” Luke says, struggling to keep pace behind me.
I have an aurora app open on my phone. I’d downloaded it before we left for the trip, and it sent me a notification that the northern lights might be visible from where I am. We’d been walking around the city when it chimed, but when I looked into the sky, I couldn’t see anything.
I stop to let him catch up.
“There’s too much light pollution. We need to get to the edge of the city where there’s less light,” I huff, a little breathless from the brisk walk and thankful for a short break.
He catches up, so I start walking again. Luke lets out a grunt of annoyance before following.
“Yes, let’s find the dark spot in the city of a foreign country. Sounds safe.”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Iceland is one of the safest countries in the world. There are only five jails for the entire country, and the crime rate is super low.”
“Which means we’ll make headlines when we’re murdered.”
“Luke, come on.” I grab his hand and pull him along. We’re getting closer to the edge of the city, at least as far as what’s manageable by foot. I figure the best direction is toward the water. The fewer the buildings, the less light pollution.
We finally reach the docks where the ocean laps at the shoreline. Though there’s water in front of us, it’s just an inlet. Off in the distance, white snow on mountaintops gives the faintest outline against the night sky, but otherwise, that’s all I see.
There are stars dotting the dark sky, but they’re faint and few. And most of all, there are no streaks of color dancing above our heads.
“We won’t be able to get far enough away from the city lights to see anything tonight,” Luke says softly.
I’m still looking. Maybe if I just wait long enough and let my eyes adjust—but I know it’s no use. The burst of energy I had at the thought of seeing the northern lights fades, leaving me with a heavy layer of exhaustion.
I know it’s silly, but I really thought I’d see the northern lights. I thought I’d be able to run outside and they’d be there, waiting for me.
I let out a deep sigh, watching as my breath fogs in front of me.
The Icelandic air was comfortable during the day with winter jackets, but now that the sun’s gone down, it’s cold enough to need gloves and a hat, both of which I left at the hotel room.
“Come on.” Luke rests his hand on my back. “It’s freezing.”
I stuff my hands into my pockets, overly aware of how his hand feels against my back, wondering again if we’ve been like this too long. Too familiar with each other’s touch, so much that we’ve slowly been morphing into two people who look like a couple when we aren’t.
I pull my arms tight in around me to keep warm, but I can feel the hot spot on my back from Luke’s touch.
“Better than sitting in a cubicle,” I mumble, trying to dig my chin deeper into my coat for warmth.
A hard chuckle comes from beside me.
“I don’t know about that,” Luke says. When I glance over, he lets his hand drop so he can cross his arms for warmth like I am. “I like my little cube.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. I didn’t know much about Luke’s job. I just know for me, I’d rather stand out in the freezing darkness than sit in that broom closet I call an office.
“You’d really rather be at work right now?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’m happy to be here,” he says, his eyes lingering on me in a way that makes me feel like his words have double meaning. “But at work there’s a Keurig.”
I roll my eyes. “Can easily be bribed with coffee.”
That wins me a hearty laugh. “Look who’s talking, Ms. Baked Goods. If your job gave you free and unlimited baked goods, you wouldn’t be so pouty all the time.”
“Now you’re talking.”
He looks at me, so hopeful it’s like he’s trying to transfer his eagerness over to me. And I wish he could. Because right now, standing out in the middle of Iceland, waiting for the northern lights to dance across the sky, I could use all the hope I can get.
My eyes linger on the darkness, pleading for the aurora to appear, as if it will solve all my problems. But it never does, and eventually Luke and I get back to our hotel room.
§
Now for the awkward part. Yes, we’ve already shared this bed together.
Yes, you can argue the plane ride sleeping was even more intimate.
But tonight, we’re conscious and awake as we crawl into bed together.
I’m not just passed out on the bed, and we’re not just stuck sandwiched next to each other on a plane.
Not to mention the fact that there’s a process of “going to bed.”
I fear Luke is one of those guys who likes to sleep in his underwear. And yes, I’ve seen him in his underwear, but that was when he hadn’t hit puberty yet.
That thought sends a nervous buzz straight to my stomach.
While Luke is in the shower, I go through my suitcase.
I knew before we left that we’d be stuck sharing a bed, which felt less awkward before I saw the text from Wes.
I packed plenty of baggy clothes that I’ve worn in front of Luke a thousand times before, but now it feels weird knowing how he feels.
It’s like when you don’t wear makeup in front of a boyfriend for the first time, but it’s somehow worse because it’s Luke.
The bathroom door opens, and steam from the shower floods into the room.
“There’s no fan,” he says.
I wave my arms as the steam floods the room, filling the air with warm humidity. “Were you trying to boil yourself alive?”
He throws his wet towel at me, laughing. It hits me in the face and falls to the floor with a light thud.
Luke’s hair is still a little wet, though it’s short enough that in a few minutes it will probably be hard to tell he showered. And while he’s shirtless, at least he has on a pair of green fleece pajama bottoms.
I’ve seen Luke shirtless plenty of times, though not in the past couple years. There just hasn’t been the occasion. In that time, he’s managed to maintain a six-pack that’s subtle enough to make my eyes linger without me realizing what I’m doing.
I silently scold myself. This is Luke. Luke is off limits. Luke will be going out with some random person at Blue Lagoon tomorrow.
If Luke can look this good walking around in his bathing suit tomorrow, it will make setting him up on a date easy.
I’m not sure there’s much I will need to do to encourage them.
Luke’s perfectly attractive on his own. His baby face that’s in all our old photos disappeared long ago for a mature, though still slightly round, face.
He’s not some kid anymore, even if when I look at him I picture the ten-year-old who stuck his tongue out every time someone took his photo.
“Your turn,” he says, and I realize I was staring.
I excuse myself to shower, trying to give myself a pep talk for the night and remind myself that Luke is my friend. And he needs to stay that way. For a fraction of a second, I let my mind wander, considering the possibility of us. Not just as friends but more. Could we?
I shut down the idea almost as quickly as it enters my mind.
I can’t risk it. Relationships are messy.
The best part about Luke and me is how simple and easy it’s always been.
If we become a couple, there’s no undoing that.
And I can’t picture my life without Luke.
Luke is that little spark in my day. He’s my best friend, first and foremost, and I’m willing to do almost anything to keep it that way.
I don’t feel that way about Luke. I can’t.
Before I step out of the shower, I allow myself one long, deep breath before I open the door.
Again, the steam fills the room, the fresh, cool air giving some relief from the anxiety that had built up while I’d been showering.
Luke’s on his phone in bed already, the covers pulled up so all I can see is his top half—still shirtless.
“What time are we leaving here tomorrow?” he asks, looking up at me.
Hearing his voice helps calm my nerves a little, and I remind myself that I’ve known Luke my entire life. There is nothing to be nervous about. This is us.
“Nine.” I pull my hair out of the towel I had it rolled up in and toss the towel back into the bathroom. I grab my brush from my suitcase and attempt to tame the mess of hair.
“Okay,” Luke says, but it feels like his eyes linger on me too long, so I take a few steps back into the bathroom. He continues talking. “I’m probably going to try to sleep then. Is it okay if I turn off my lamp? You can keep yours on until you go to bed.”
“Sure.” I place the brush on the bathroom counter and give myself another inner monologue pep talk. Luke is your friend. A proper gentleman. You’ll both stay on your respective sides of the bed.
I take in a tiny puff of air and walk back into the bedroom. Luke is plugging his phone in. As I sit on my side of the bed, he clicks off the lamp and rolls to his side. A natural.
Clearly, I’m the oddball in the room.
That stupid text is ruining everything.
I pull up the sheets around me, thankful that we each have our own set of blankets. I’m not sure how much time passes, but eventually I hear Luke’s breathing grow long and heavy—he’s asleep.
I try to mimic his breathing, letting my body relax until I drift off too.