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

by A.M. Johnson

But I don’t see why I gotta change. The boys who are mean should have to change.”

“Then this will be our blue hour, Rook.” His smile spread wide as he turned to look at me. “This will always be our time.”

It had been five years since I’d seen Luka Abrams. Five years of feeling lost without a compass.

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.”

Jesus, he was beautiful.

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.

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.

My sister tugged him into a hug, and a pang of jealousy clenched inside my stomach. Not because I thought Rook and my sister would ever be a thing, but because I wanted the right to touch him again. To reach over and hold his hand like we used to sometimes when we were kids. To rest my head on his shoulder and tell him I was lost. To ask him not to leave because I needed him now more than ever.

“Did you tell Nora? That you like boys?” “You’re the only one who knows. For now.” “Thank you for telling me.”

So sweet

His touch had always centered me, and I thought mine had done the same for him.

“I’ve never felt like that about anyone. Well… except…” He raised his brows, something dawning in his bright blue eyes. “Except for Luka.”

But you… you’re like the sun, I can feel you from millions of miles away.”

“You and that boy are soulmates. Whatever’s broken, fix it. You only get so many chances in life.”

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

I searched their faces, but there was only one person I cared about, only one person I wanted to know again. Rook. With his nervous laugh as the silence in the kitchen deepened, and his amber eyes that reminded me, no matter what, I’d always belong to him.

He reached out and brushed his pinky over mine.

“Should we try again?” Luka hooked his finger around mine and scooted close enough our arms were pressed together. “I don’t think we’ll be able to count them all tonight.” He enclosed my entire hand with his and turned his face toward the sky. “Even if it takes our whole lives, we’ll count them, Rook. I know we will.”

My best friend. The man I loved so much it hurt.

“I’ve got your back, Luka. Always.”

His shirt collar was stretched out, revealing a tattoo. His collarbone was sharp beneath his pale skin, the scribbled ink almost indecipherable. Meet me in the blue. The words were ours.

“Uh-oh… Be careful. That sounded a lot like jealousy.” “Because it is,” he said, his cheeks a deep shade of red. “I’m so fucking jealous I could scream.

It wasn’t necessarily attraction that warmed my stomach, but more the familiarity of him. The steadfast lines of him I could trace with my eyes closed, the sound of his voice as grounding as it had always been. My heart spread out inside my chest, stretching far enough it almost hurt to breathe as Luka laughed.

“I want to understand why you pushed me away. I want to know why you thought you didn’t need me.” “I need you, Rook.” His voice was low and desperate, like if he didn’t get the words out fast enough, they’d disappear. “That’s part of why…” He swore under his breath, dropping his gaze. “I always need you… Shit… Rook, I lo… I…”

I always need you.

I reached for the collar of his t-shirt and moved it aside, my fingers tingling as I trailed them over the tattoo. “I need you too,” I said the four words in a shaky whisper. “You’re my best friend… I love you too much to throw that away.”

“Did you like it when I wore your jersey in high school?” He didn’t answer right away, his thumb rubbing two small circles into my palm. The rough touch of his skin raised a riot of goose bumps from my wrist to my elbow. “It made me feel proud.” “Proud?” “Like you belonged to me.” “I did… I do. I’ll always be yours,” I said, hoping he could hear the truth this time. Hear it and own it. “I know.”

He smelled like home.

“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.”

“What I mean is… you’re special, Rook, you’re not like those idiots on your team. You’ll find someone…” His voice wavered and he swallowed. “And she’ll be amazing, and perfect for you.” “And if not?” “You’ll always have me.”

I’ll always be yours.

“You were my best friend. I didn’t want to screw with that. I learned… I learned to shut it out, to love you the way I knew you could love me back.”

He tasted like sugar and falling leaves, like the month of October. He tasted familiar, like how all kisses should have tasted.

“You give me what I need every time I look at you. By simply… existing.”

Loving Rook was effortless for me.

“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.”

“We still have this summer.” His hand found mine, his skin warm and soft against my calloused palms. “I promise. Every summer will belong to you.”

I needed to be his roots, his refuge. His pain had always been my pain. Every breaking sob, every heaving breath belonged to me, belonged to us.

“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. “Do you really want this?” he asked. “Do you want me?” I’m yours now. “Yes.” “Yes?”

“I want you.” More tears spilled over his lashes, and he was all salt and breath as I kissed his top lip. “I didn’t know… but I always have.” 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.

He was the first boy I’d ever wanted, the first man I’d ever loved, and I never thought I’d get to have him like this, never thought I’d be the one to unravel him.

“I’d never regret you,” I breathed. “Never.” A quiet concession flashed across his eyes as he released my wrist. “I need you, Rook. Just you.”

I closed my eyes, and focused on Rook’s touch, on the heat of his body, like bright sunlight, and it was safe and comfortable and mine.

“You care about him,” he said, and my heart threatened to shatter. “More than a friend?” My throat burned, too tight to speak as I nodded. His big hand enveloped my knee, and he leaned his back against the wood wall. “I thought so.” “You did?” “When you came out to me and your mom… I wondered. I don’t know. You’re different with Rook than you are with anyone else. He lights you up. You make each other shine.”

“He cares about you.” “Not like he cares about Ella.” “Maybe.” Dad smiled at me, bumping me in my shoulder. “Rook’s always been a patient kind of soul, you know what I mean? He takes his time. Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet.” “He’ll never see it,” I said, slumping into my father’s side. I rested my head on his shoulder. “I need to move the hell…” I cleared my throat, and he raised his brows. “The heck on.” “Do what you need to do, but I’m telling you, that boy cares for you.” He patted my knee, then folded his hands in his lap. “Love takes time.” “You’re so cheesy.” I laughed, and he grinned. “Love takes time… God, where do you come up with this shi…” I cringed. “I mean… stuff.” “Your mother,” he said and playfully shoved my shoulder. “She gives me all the good lines.” “I want what you guys have.” “You will.” “Yeah?”

“This house… it’s mine and I like it… but it’s never been a home. It’s felt lonely for a long time, and maybe it’s too fast, and with all that has happened this past week, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. But I liked falling asleep next to you, having you here with me, and then spending those nights with you at your parents’ house. Coming home alone again, it didn’t feel right. The house was too quiet. I haven’t slept more than a few hours a night. Worried about today and you, and selfishly, worried I wouldn’t be able to fill this vacancy in my chest without you. I’ve missed you for too long, and maybe I’m scared you’ll leave again without your dad as an anchor. I don’t want to miss you anymore. I want you here,” he said, and a tear escaped the corner of my eye. It trickled down to my jaw and then he wiped it away, a soft, hopeful look in his eyes. “I don’t think there’s a timetable that fits us, there isn’t a list of things we need to check off. I don’t know a lot of things about relationships, but I know you, and I know I’m in love with my best friend. And I’m ready, Luka… if you are.”

It was easier to fall asleep when he was there.

It was weird to think he hadn’t always been around, and when he said mean things about himself, I wished he could see how much happier he’d made me by just being here.

He was made for me. And I was his too. I knew that now, knew it as well as I knew my own way through my house with the lights off. The way I knew he had changed, but he was still my home.

I smelled like him, like spunk and sex, and I never wanted to shower.

“He’s Lukasexual,” Will said with a snort and Ron groaned.