Page 5 of Meet Me in the Blue
“You haven’t been home in a while.” He held my gaze, the shadows dancing along the lines of his nose and cheeks. “People change.”
People change.It was an accusation. I couldn’t blame him.
“You look good.” I summoned the boy I used to be and gave him a playful grin. “Old man.”
He chuffed and a real smile spread across his lips. Jesus, he was beautiful. It lit his entire face, any traces of sadness that might have lingered hid away inside two deep dimples. Rook shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his gaze persistent. “You look different too. Bleach blond?” He raised a brow, and I chuckled.
I dipped my chin and toed the wet grass with my sneaker. Self-conscious, I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “Yeah… I dyed it a few weeks ago, not sure how I feel about it.”
“I like it.”
Surprised, I lifted my head. “Thanks.”
We stared at each other. Each of us cataloging all the little things, all the modifications the years had added, ignoring the bigger picture. I didn’t know how to begin again. How to make up for ghosting my best friend. How to tell him I was terrified. How to tell him I missed him so damn much. How to tell him I didn’t call because it was easier that way, easier for me. Easier to deny how far I’d fallen since I’d moved to California. I’d always been a selfish asshole.
“It’s cold,” he said and nodded at my t-shirt. “Can’t hide out here forever.”
I laughed without humor. “Why not?”
“Because…” His smile fell, and he shook his head like maybe he shouldn’t say what he wanted to or didn’t have an answer at all. But when he spoke, his voice trembled. “Because hiding isn’t the answer, Luka. It will only make it all hurt more… in the end.”
“He’s dying,” I said, and the tears I’d been desperately holding back fell anyway.
Rook closed the distance between us, wrapping me up in strong arms and warm woodsmoke and pine, and my body shuddered.
“I know.” He hugged me tighter. “I know.”
Eventually we made our way inside, after I’d pulled myself together and he grabbed something from his car. Rook had hugged my mom and my sister Nora, and they’d fawned over him like always, offering him coffee and cookies and smiles. At least some things hadn’t changed. He’d said,yes ma’am, andthank youand put a tub of ice cream into our freezer like he lived here too. I sat on the stool at the breakfast bar, watching everything spin around him, and couldn’t stop myself from smiling. It was comfortable and familiar and worlds apart from the hospital bed sitting in the other room, where my dad slept and drifted away.
“It’s been a while,” Nora said as she pulled herself up and onto the edge of the counter. She kicked her feet like she was ten and not a grown woman. She tore off a piece of the cookie she had in her hand and popped it into her mouth. “How are things at the clinic? I think it’s so cool you get to deliver babies.”
“It’s busy.” Rook set his coffee mug on the counter and sat next to me. “But it’s a good kind of busy.”
The heat of his body was a heavy weight. I’d always gravitated toward it. Toward him, and it took every ounce of self-preservation I had not to lean into him. Things were different. Time had passed. Rook wasn’t mine to lean into anymore. Even if that hug earlier had been everything I’d needed, I knew it was just Rook being Rook, offering me a stable surface to find my footing.
“Keeping up your practice is always good,” my mom said and turned off the coffee pot. “Just remember to take a break every now and then. Isaac worked all the time when he first started his own practice, but it wasn’t until we moved here, and he started working with your father, that he learned to take it easy every once in a while. Don’t spread yourself too thin. Life is too short.” She squeezed Rook’s arm, her eyes glassy. “Your mom told me Stacey has been sniffing around again.”
Rook’s entire body had gone completely rigid, and Nora laughed. “Mom, leave him alone. Stacey is always sniffing around. She’s way too obvious.”
“Stacey from high school?” I asked, my voice pitching higher than usual.
“She’s a nice girl. Smart. Cute as hell.” Mom stared at me with shrewd blue eyes. “And available.”
“Is that your way of saying she’s easy?” I heard myself say and my sister coughed. “I mean, she—”
“Stace is a friend,” Rook interrupted, and the tone of his voice was like a reprimand. “You and my mom need to stop gossiping so much.” He chuckled and my mom smiled, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“Can’t blame us though. One of these days you’re going to have to settle down. And all the single ladies will weep.”
“Maybe,” he said, almost whispering, his eyes on the mug of coffee in front of him. “I don’t know.”
Nora stared at me, the conversation we’d had again and again all those years ago crossed between us in an unspoken rush of words inside my head.
He’s straight, Nora. He’s just a friend. He’s not into me like that. I can’t keep hoping.
He loves you. He’s waiting. He’s confused. He’s here. He’s yours.
“I’m sorry, honey.” Mom squeezed his arm again. “I shouldn’t meddle.”