Page 63 of Back To You

“Go,” Drew repeats as Emmett comes up behind her, kissing her on the top of her head, making her cheeks go bright red.

“We’re here when you need us,” Mia adds, leaning back on Eddie’s chest as he wraps his arms around her.

I blow a kiss to a sleeping Lennon and give Emmett and Eddie both a quick nod before walking out of the apartment with Luke.

“She’s had a lot of dealing with feelings tonight, Luke!” Mia shouts.

“And she has a big day tomorrow,” Drew adds, reminding me that my rotations start tomorrow, so there’s even more of a reason to get all this shit figured outtonight.

“Luke used a lot of brain power tonight!” Eddie yells.

“Go easy on each other!” They yell at us in unison, and I think I even hear Emmett’s voice too, but I don’t have time to laugh because I’m too busy following Luke down the hallway and through the front entrance of the complex.

He isn’t slowing down, and he hasn’t said a word since he said we’re leaving, not even a goodbye.

His features are tightened, and there’s an urgency to his step. He’s walking with a purpose, and I don’t evenhave time to be confused as to what happened with him and the guys in the 45 minutes we were gone.

“Luke, stop,” I say, finding my voice with him again, and he does.

He turns to me in the middle of the parking lot, Rosie wagging her tail as she looks up at him and then at me.

“We need to talk,” I repeat to him.

His features loosen, and he gives me a small smile, but it isn’t his normal one. His normal smile is golden and shiny, full of happiness. This smile is sad, and it makes my heart hurt. “I know, honey. But, we’re not doing it here,” he answers. “Let’s go home.”

The car ride back to the apartment is loaded. There’s tension in the air, and neither of us talk. It gives me a second to register everything I’m feeling, and these feelings aren’t going to be going away anytime soon.

Not until Luke and I talk about what happened between him and Devin that night.

Not until I apologize with everything I am that I left without an explanation.

Not until I tell him that I love him and will do anything to make up for the last seven years of pushing him away.

Once we’re inside, Luke empties the bag he had with to-go containers of salad and lasagna, a bag of bread, and my brownie containers.

“I never got to put the powdered sugar on these,” I say, opening one of the containers to find only a few brownies left with powdered sugar already dusted on them.

“Mia and Eddie had powdered sugar,” Luke answers before I can ask, walking over to the living room. “And we divided up all the food and dessert evenly,” he says, answering the other question I didn’t get a chance to ask.

I close the container and sit down next to him on the couch, not able to ignore the fact that we were just here, in this exact position, almost 24 hours ago, yet I feel like my whole world was flipped on its axis.

“Luke,” I start, but he holds up a hand, cutting me off. I can’t fight the furrow of my brow as I resist the urge to slap his hand away.

“I know you’re not too keen on giving me what I want, but please, I need to say this.”

My features relax, and I bring my knees to my chest as Luke runs a hand through his hair.

“That night, before Grant’s party,” he starts, and I almost resort to clapping a hand over my mouth to stop myself from talking. He looks bothered—no, haunted. Like whatever he’s about to say isn’t going to be easy. That’s what keeps me quiet. “I told you last night that I don’t remember much of it, but I was talking about it with Emmett and Eddie tonight—and you can be mad at me for talking to them about us later,” he quickly adds that last part, before continuing, “I remembered something.”

I nod, not trusting my voice at the moment, not when this conversation has been years in the making.

“I remember sitting down on a couch in Alek’s basement and feeling hands rubbing up and down my chest. Then there’s this weight on me, like someone sitting on my lap, straddling me almost.” He shakes his head, and my fist clench at the torment in his voice, at how hard he’s straining for memories of something that would be easier to not remember.

SomethingI’mmaking him remember.

“Luke, you don’t have to,” I start to say, but he stops me before I can say anything else.

“No, this is important. You deserve to know what I did.”

---