Chapter 27
Harper
Time to dig my grave and hope that when I get reincarnated into a new body, no part of my soul ever remembers trying to find out if my lifelong friend has a crush on me.
That must have been awkward for you.
The words make me laugh because Luke doesn’t even know the half of it. If I thought reading the text was awkward, I had no idea of the humiliation to come when I confronted him about it.
I wish now, more than ever, that I had never read the text and that we could go back to being friends. Because now it doesn’t feel like friends. Now it feels more than that, but also less somehow. More than friends, but with the awkwardness of two people who broke up, even though we never dated.
When I used to daydream about the type of guy I’d want to spend the rest of my life with, it was always someone who knew me deep down to my core, protected me, and helped me see that even my flaws weren’t something to be ashamed of.
That’s Luke. I feel like part of me always knew this but wasn’t willing to risk losing him.
If I was going to cross this line with Luke, I needed to be sure we were on the same page, which is why I finally confronted him about the text.
And it backfired in the worst way possible.
The idea of having feelings for me is a joke. It’s so far out of the realm of possibilities that he and Wes laughed about it. I’m not sure whether to cry or laugh about it.
What was I thinking? He didn’t want to kiss me at the beach. It was all in my head. A big delusion I’d built up for myself.
“What’s next on the itinerary?” Luke asks when we get back to the car.
“Um,” I struggle to come up with something. I don’t have anything else written down for today. I’d assumed visiting the beach and this canyon would take up most of the day. “Want to go back to the Airbnb to regroup?”
Luke seems a little confused by my answer, mostly because any other day, I’d refuse to go back until I was sufficiently tired from a day of sightseeing. But here I am, wanting to call it a day when we haven’t even eaten dinner yet.
“Did you want to take a nap?” Luke asks.
The question is so sweet it makes my heart flutter, which I promptly tell to stop. I needed to get Luke out of my head now more than ever.
“No, I’m good,” I say.
“Maybe we just drive around a bit and see if we find anything?”
I’m about to protest and say I’m tired, but I’m not. I’m just humiliated for the second time today and would rather lick my wounds in privacy, which won’t be an option at the Airbnb seeing as we share a bed.
“Sure,” I agree, settling into the passenger seat and buckling up.
Luke sits in the driver’s seat and starts the car. “If you fall asleep, I won’t tell anyone.”
The words almost sound flirty, but I kick myself again, reminding myself that clearly my ability to tell when someone is flirting with me is way off.
§
Apparently I did fall asleep because the next thing I know, Luke is tapping me on the shoulder.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” he says.
I blink, confused, and stretch as I look around. We’re in a random parking lot next to a building. The sun is just starting to set, the clouds turning a soft orange color.
“How long was I out?” I sit up. My neck aches and I stretch it from side to side, rubbing at the muscle.
“An hour.”
I rub my hand down my face, a little annoyed at myself for missing part of the day.
“Have you been driving this entire time?” I ask, still trying to gain my bearings. We’re near some buildings, so we must be back in Vik.
“You clonked out before we got off the dirt road, so I’ve just been exploring.” He points to a red church on top of a hill in the distance. “Went up there.”
I frown. “I missed it?”
Luke lets out a guilty laugh. “Not exactly.” He passes me his phone to show me a picture of me with my head against the window with the church in the background.
He reaches over to swipe the screen to another photo.
Again I’m asleep—my head against the window—but the background is different.
This time we’re up high, overlooking the town of Vik.
He swipes to another photo—me with a mossy lava field in the background.
Another swipe, and there are horses off in the distance, my sleeping figure in the foreground.
“Oh my God,” I mumble. “Luke, delete all these!”
He takes his phone back. “Why? They’re the only photos I took. They’re funny.”
I blink once. Twice.
Does this count as being humiliated for a third time today? It’s like having your crush witness something embarrassing while he laughs at you. Except this time my crush is Luke, and the embarrassment is him keeping funny photos of me on his phone.
“Okay, I get it. You had fun while I took a nap,” I concede, putting my hands up.
The grin he gives me is almost worth the embarrassment, but I’m still contemplating stealing his phone and deleting the photos.
Even then, though, I want Luke to have photos of me on his phone.
Not me sleeping with my mouth hanging open, but nice photos.
Photos of us, like the one we took at the canyon before I made a fool of myself and asked him about the text message.
“Come on, let’s eat dinner.” Luke gets out of the car.
I have to reorient myself as I step out into the parking lot. There’s a large glass building that Luke walks toward, so I follow.
When we get inside, it’s all sleek and bright, mostly because two of the four walls are glass.
The tables look like massive butcher-block counters, and the seats are leather chairs that look like they’d fit better in a modern office than in a restaurant.
There are a few booths with green plants hanging over them, making the entire place feel warm and cozy while the outside world is cold and sharp.
“Luke, I’m not sure if we’re fancy enough for this place,” I say, taking it all in.
“Sure we are,” he says, approaching the woman at the entry. “Can we get one of the seats by the window?”
I glance around. Luckily, we seem to have arrived before the dinner rush, so there are plenty of empty tables.
“Of course. Come this way,” the woman says.
I’m still staring out the window when she starts walking, so Luke grips my hand to drag me along. The touch sends another flutter through me, and I chastise myself once again.
We’re seated at the table that has arguably the best view in the house. We’re along the window at the perfect angle to see the mountains without any obstruction.
We both order drinks and choose our meals. When our food arrives, looking like a display of modern art, I really feel like this restaurant is out of our league. My chicken comes out so perfectly plated that even Gordon Ramsay would be proud.
“Okay, seeing as we’re both in clothes that are borderline workout attire, I really feel like we’re underdressed.” I gesture to my food and then my leggings.
Luke takes a bite of his steak. “I don’t know. I just thought the view was nice.”
“This is the type of restaurant you get dressed up to go to,” I say, motioning to a couple who arrived a few minutes ago in a dress and button down.
Luke doesn’t bother glancing over to them. He points to another table with two little kids in bright-colored clothes and parents who look like they had to roll in the dirt to catch a toddler at some point.
“They accept everyone. Even riffraff like us.”
I almost tell him that I would have wanted to get dressed up, that there’s a dress I could’ve worn, but then I stop myself. Not because I forgot to pack the dress, but because I purposefully didn’t pack the dress. It’s the type of dress I only wear on dates or going out for girls’ night.
I can feel myself getting emotional. I’m not sure why it happens here and now. It’s like when Luke rejected me earlier, I was doing all I could to go along with what he was saying and pretend like that’s what I wanted him to say, but now the words sting.
It was a joke.
How have I gone so long with Luke in my life, never really seeing him as more than a friend, and then suddenly, it’s all my heart wants?
I want us to be dressed up, holding hands at the table.
I want him to walk me outside, looking for the northern lights, pulling me to his chest to keep warm.
But most of all, I want to know what it would be like to kiss him.
To know what it’s like to love him for everything that he is, as more than just a boy I grew up with, but the man I grew up to love.
“You okay?” Luke asks.
My eyes dart up to him, and I can feel myself go flush.
“Were the two of you interested in dessert? The ganache is a popular choice for couples who want to share,” the waitress says when she comes in to check on us.
“Oh, we’re not a couple,” Luke says, his words light, joking. It’s the same thing I said earlier in the day, but hearing it from him feels like a knife to my heart.