The Truth About That Summer

sixty-five

"Getting dressed so soon?" Luke teases, raising a brow at me as I pull my tank top over my torso. My body still slick with sweat from yet another rendezvous in Luke's bed, I can't help but feel exposed.

It's stupid, but it's the truth.

"Sorry to disappoint you," I pretend-pout for him.

"Not disappointed." Luke sits up, the muscles of his arms and abdomen rippling as he does so. "I do love you naked but you're pretty cute with clothes on, too."

"Gee, thanks." I roll my eyes, raking my fingers through my hair and redoing my ponytail. "I should really get back to Grams, in case."

"In case she sleeps soundly through the night?" Luke laughs, grabbing my wrist and pulling me closer to him and the bed again. Tracing the side of my face with a long finger, his voice is soft. "I've only just got you back, Dyl. Stay awhile."

I feel my resolve fading at his sweet words. Luke could've talked me into anything, back in the day. Those eyes and that smile and those dimples.

Still, I pull away to slip on my shorts. "I'll be back."

"Yeah you will." Luke smirks to himself smugly, like he knows he's irresistible.

I make a mental note to make him work harder for it next time. Teach him a lesson in being too cocky for his own good.

"So the cookout," I change the subject, averting my sights from the all too tempting sight of a naked Luke in a comfortable bed. "When should I come over?"

Luke stands and suddenly I have to look up to see his face, instead of below his waist. He cocks his head to the side.

"I'll be picking you up. Around one, if that works for you and June."

I face the wall of photos so he won't see my stupid grin. I'm looking forward to the cookout more than I thought I'd be, and definitely more than I want him to know.

Get it together, Dylan.

"That's works," I mutter as nonchalantly as I can. Then I scan the lines of photos on the wall, aware of Luke's presence as he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

"Good." He murmurs into my hair before resting his chin atop my head, "I'm happy you're not mad at me anymore."

"Hm." I sigh, resting back against his chest, holding the tops of his hands with my own. "How do you do it?" I ask, staring at the hundreds of Casey smiles lining his walls. "How can you be around all these pictures of him, and not want to cry all of the time?"

The air thickens and the mood shifts. It's quiet for a minute before I feel Luke shrug.

"Therapy."

"You? You went to therapy?" I tilt my head to see his face better. His expression gives nothing away.

"It was my parents idea but yeah. I did."

"Wow."

I look forward again, this time noticing how the only photos Maya is in are the group shots, even though I know they had ones of just the two of them. Some of which, I even took myself. I'm sure it's not a coincidence. Somehow, the lack of her flaming hair and freckles on these walls makes me feel a little bit better.