Meet Me in the Blue (Hemlock Harbor, #1)

by A.M. Johnson

I could feel him there waiting, and as I broke through to the small clearing, I saw him. A man I didn’t recognize stood with his back to me, his eyes on the sky. The tattoos peeking out from under his damp cotton t-shirt were new, his bleach-blond hair was new too. My heart drummed inside my chest, but I was surprised to find it wasn’t in anger, but relief. So much relief. “Meet me in the blue,” I said. “I’ll always be here.”

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 thought of Luka. Of all the years. The path between our houses. The blue hour. The fort. Rock giants and skinned knees. I thought of him, and maybe he couldn’t love me the way I needed him to, but he did, love me. And all the pain inside me intensified, crested like an ocean wave in a storm, but from up here I could see everything, and I decided happiness was forgiveness.

“You and that boy are soulmates. Whatever’s broken, fix it. You only get so many chances in life.” She stared out toward the living room, her throat bobbing. “I’ve known you both since you were little boys with Kool-Aid-stained lips and grass stains on your knees. He loves you.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years,” Nora said, throwing her hands into the air. “Thank you.”

“Rook is straight and has always been straight, that’s not going to change. We’re fr...

“And I don’t care about whatever sexuality is what. Sometimes...

“I love you too,” he said, but it wasn’t like that. Like I love you. Those three words for him meant growing up together, camping, s’more sticky fingers, Magic the Gathering, and awkward teenage angst. They meant forgive me and I’m sorry and I missed you. We were years together and years apart, and somewhere along the way, in the loss I’d felt in his absence, the lines had blurred for me, and I wished like hell they had for him too.

“Did you like it when I wore your jersey in high school?”

“It made me feel proud.”

“Proud?”

“Like you belonge...

“I did… I do. I’ll always be yours,” I said, hoping he could hear the truth this ...

“I k...

“Luka…” he called my name like he’d forgotten something. “I… I’m yours too.” “Even when you’re mad at me?” I asked, my heart dropping in my stomach, and his full lips pulled into a crooked smile. “Yeah, Luka. Even then.”

Luka clenched his fingers into the fabric of my coat, and I brushed my lips over his. He tasted like sugar and falling leaves, like the month of October. He tasted familiar, like how all kisses should have tasted. There was nothing sloppy about Luka’s tongue or the way his teeth sank into my bottom lip. It was slow, the way he melted into me, the way he let me in. Every touch was infinite. It wasn’t rushing blood and fire. It was finding myself and coming home. It was years of waiting and confusion and forgiveness. I wanted this building pressure, this urge to expose every nerve as his hand slid up my chest to my neck, and his nails scratched my skin.

“What are we doing?” I held his face between my hands, the rough texture of his dark stubble felt right under my palms. His lips were this pretty shade of strawberry red, slightly swollen and shaped like a heart. I hadn’t noticed that before, the divot above his lip. “I have no idea.”

“You can’t kiss me like that…” His voice was raw, scraped thin and vulnerable. “You can’t kiss me like you mean it if you don’t.” “I mean it.” I lowered my hands to his hips. I didn’t care about the cars passing by, or the cashier staring at us through the bookshop window. “Luka… look at me.” He covered my hands with his, pushing them from his hips, and stepped back, the cold air adding more bricks between us. “I don’t want to lose my best friend again.” “You won’t.” “You don’t know that,” he said, his hands in fists at his side.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, or if I can even give you what you need, but hell, Luka, I want to try.” I hesitated as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Unless you meant it when you said you were over it. Over me.” “You give me what I need every time I look at you. By simply… existing.” His bleach-blond hair rustled in the breeze, his eyes, weary and soft, blinked back the brimming moisture dampening his lashes. He wasn’t the same boy I’d always known. Time and pain had changed him. But he was mine all the same. He kept his distance and gave me a watery smile. “I don’t know what to do… I’ll never be over you, Rook, and that kiss…” His voice broke, and he shook his head, huffing out a choked laugh. “It was everything I’ve ever fucking wanted, and it scares the hell out of me. I don’t think I could survive it this time… if it didn’t work out.”

“Okay?” He raised a brow. “Does that mean… what? What does that mean?” “It means whatever you want it to, Luka. I’m here, and if that’s all you need, if that’s enough, it’s enough for me too.” “It has to be enough.” Nodding, I breathed through the growing discomfort in my stomach. “Then I can respect that. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have assumed that’s what you wanted.” “Rook,” he said my name with so much regret it was hard to look at him. “I’m sorry.”

I started to cross the street, touching my fingers to my lips. The heat of his mouth hadn’t yet faded, and as Luka sidled in next to me, I hid my shaking hands in the pockets of my jacket. It didn’t matter if, for the first time in my life, a kiss actually meant something, that I actually wanted more than anything to kiss him again. This was who we were, and I didn’t want to do anything to lose that. It was enough. It had to be, because more than anything, I didn’t want to be someone he needed to survive.

“The point to this entire story is that love isn’t easy. Love is sacrifice, son. It hurts, it’s messy, and shit, it will tear you up. At the risk of sounding like one of those greeting cards your sister loves to torture us with, I have to say it’s worth it. Love is worth every single hurt it gives. It’s worth it because it’s fucking living, and you deserve to live it.”

“Rook,” he whispered, startling me. I attempted to pull away, but he captured my face between the palms of his hands. “Kiss me again.” “Not like this, Luka.” “I need to feel something besides this hole in my chest. It hurts to breathe.” Vulnerable, glittering blue eyes held me hostage as my heart stammered out a few clumsy beats. “I need to feel it. I need to know you meant it. When you kissed me before…” His lips were feather soft against the corner of my mouth as he moved closer. We were nose to nose, his thumbs digging into the line of my jaw. “I don’t want you to try, Rook. I need you to know… Like I’ve known since that first day when you held my hand in the woods. I was yours then, and I’m yours now.” I didn’t understand this urgency building inside the tips of my fingers, this static need crackling like a wildfire inside me. I was yours then.

Luka and I were like two rivers, raging toward the same open sea, and there wasn’t a thing in this world, not death or distance or time, or even my own naivety that would keep us apart.

“Tell me what you like.”

“This,”

“I like ...

“I’m not sure what I’...

“Are you sure about that,”

“You’re making me crazy.”

“I was about two seconds away from begging yo...

“I don’t want t...

“I’ve never done this, but I want to. I have this need… to keep going, and I’ve never had that before.”

“I always thought I’d end up alone,”

“I’ve been confused for a long time.”

“Confused about your sexuality?”

“Yes, and how I never fit with anyone like other people do.” His fingers sketched the plunging line of my hip bone and the curve of every one of my ribs. “Nothing has ever come close to this, to tonight. Sex has always been an expected step, something that was unavoidable if I wanted to be romantically involved with someone. Sometimes it was okay, but I never had a chance to get to know the women I dated on the level I needed to let myself be vulnerable with them. And they’d get annoyed, or think I wasn’t attracted to them, and then it was over be...

“I’m nervous. What if I disappoint you?”

“No one is perfect, Rook. I know that.”

“But…” he hesitated, avoiding my eyes, every raw nerve we’d exposed tonight left uncovered and stinging between us. “It’s been difficult for me, in the past, and there’s no one I’d rather be with, but I can’t promise…” He exhaled, exasperated, and I rested my palm on the small of his back, and he relaxed under my touch. We were connected, his knee tou...

“This wasn’t easy,” I said, and Rook held my gaze. “And it shouldn’t be. If I wanted it easy, I could have found some guy on Grindr. But I don’t want that anymore. I want to fall asleep like this. I want to stay wrapped up with you until you complain about it being too ho...

“Rook.” “Yeah?” “I like sex. But I love you.” His chuckle ruffled my hair. “Love you too.” “I don’t need you to make me any promises.” “Alright.” He skated a gentle palm down my back, and I yawned.

“Are you hiding?” “Not from you.” “I thought you wanted a glass of water?” “I needed this more.” Rook kissed the slope of my neck. “I wish the fort wouldn’t collapse the minute we’d try to crawl in. Everything was easier when we were inside those four walls.”