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“Good. You can update me about the progress once you’ve started the ensuite. Thanks.” He hangs up and tosses his phone back into the centre console. He takes the next left and drops me at the train station; I’m home in twenty minutes.

Our apartment in Killara still feels to me like we’ve only just moved in, but when I think back, we’ve been here for almost two years. I know Dad and Oliver both love the place. Somehow, I can’t help thinking something’s missing. Still, it makes Oliver happy, and that’s what I should want, too, right?

Things will feel better once Oliver and I are married. It’s just the stress of planning the wedding and getting the coast house done up in time for the reception. Once we’re married and we’re spending three weeks in the sunny south of France on our honeymoon, I’m sure I’ll feel like all my dreams have come true.

I throw a few things in a bag hastily. By twelve thirty, I’m on the road headed for Rosella Bay. Once I get onto the highway, I put on the cruise control and slip off my black pumps, kneading the arches of my feet with my toes. I should have changed before I left, but I was too keen to get out of Sydney. With a touch to the car’s dash screen, I select my upbeat workout playlist. A smile tugs on my lips when the first bars of Beyonce’s “Love On Top” play and instantly lifts my mood.

Soon, I’m singing along, dancing around in my seat as I turn off onto the M1. I pick up drive-through McDonald’s on the way, because fuck it. No one in Rosella Bay will judge me or tell me I’ll want to look my best on my wedding day.

By the time I arrive in town and turn into the little cul-de-sac where the coast house is, there’s a chill in the air. As I step out of the car, I shiver. My heels clack on the concrete driveway, making me feel out of place in this sleepy little town. I definitely look like a fish out of water in my tailored skirt and blouse.

Hurrying inside, I rummage around in the bag I packed, looking for a change of clothes. Unfortunately, I think I forgot my warm jumper. And I definitely don’t have my track pants. Damn.

I throw on my pyjamas and slippers and turn on the heater. I’m waiting for the kettle to boil to make a cup of tea, when I spot a big grey hoodie on the kitchen floor. It looks so cosy I immediately pick it up and press it to my face, inhaling the warm, masculine scent. I close my eyes for a moment and smile. Must be one of Oliver’s.

It smells amazing, actually. I wonder if he’s changed his deodorant or aftershave since last time we were here. Slipping the hoodie over my head, I sigh. This is what I needed. This is my happy place.

I jump at a knock on the door. Then I remember it will be Luke, the builder Oliver hired to do the renovation. I can’t believe I never thought of it until now, but what if this Luke—builder Luke—is the same Luke...

It’s completely ridiculous to even think it might be my Luke. The tall, gorgeous local surfer guy I crushed on so hard. Luke, my summer secret all those years ago at eighteen. That night when he kissed me and touched me like I was something special. Only, I never asked his last name. I never got his number. The next day, we left Rosella Bay.

But he’s not my Luke, is he? He can’t be my Luke, because next year I’m getting married and, up until recently, I thought I was marrying my dream guy. On paper, Oliver is my perfect match. He grew up in the same suburb of Sydney. He was my high school boyfriend. My parents love him. God, he and Mum have been talking baby names for months!

The doorbell rings again.

Hurrying over, I open it to find myself staring into hazel-flecked green eyes that send me right back to that summer ten years ago. Up at the handsome face of the guy I remember. Though he’s a little more rugged and with a little more facial hair.

But no question: he is my Luke.

The Luke I thought I’d never see again.

The guy who was my first.

I open my mouth and try to make words come out, but they won’t. My cheeks heat and I press cold fingertips to them to stop the blush. There’s no way he remembers me. I was just some summer fling to him.

“Ms Sinclair? Hi. Thanks for coming. Ah, I mean thanks for coming all the way from Sydney.” His eyes drop to my chest and I have a second where I wonder if he’s a completely different guy to the one I remember. The guy I remember wouldn’t be checking me out so blatantly. Then his face colours and his eyes snap back to mine. “Is that my jumper?”

TWO

Luke

“Hey, loser, are you even listening to me?” My younger brother, Noah, elbows me roughly and I blink. I wasn’t really listening. He’s right. I was too busy remembering the sight of Mia Sinclair all grown up standing in the doorway and looking up at me like she had just been waiting for me to get home. Standing there wearing my jumper over the tiny shorts I didn’t even see until my second look—OK, my fifth.

God, her legs were almost inviting my hands to slide the hem of the jumper up and reclaim all those hidden treasures. The things I wanted to do to her right then made me speechless for a good minute while I drank in the sight of her.

Things I did do to her all those years ago! Another lifetime.

I can’t believe she ever gave me the chance.

I’d been watching her for weeks. I’d seen her around town with her parents. She had a great body—God, she still does from what I saw of it—but the thing that really hooked me was her smile. I only saw it a few times, and it was hidden just as quickly. Her brown hair tucked behind an ear and her eyes instantly flicking to the ground like she was afraid of her own beauty. I couldn’t take mine off her.

Well, that hasn’t changed either.

Now, hours later, I can’t help wondering if she’s all tucked up in bed in that big old place all by herself, or if her dickhead fiance came to stay with her.

“Luke!”

“Huh?”

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