Page 76 of Until Next Summer

“That’s not—”

“You were, weren’t you?” Amusement plays on his lips.“You think I’m such a moron that I squandered half a million dollars.”

“I’m sorry, okay!” I say, laughing. “It’s not like you’re forthcoming about your personal life. You could have lost the money in a Ponzi scheme, for all I know.”

Around the campfire, everyone is singing “This Land Is Your Land,” accompanied by Cooper on the guitar. I lean back in the hammock and look up. The trees overhead obscure most of the sky, but here and there stars peek out, the Milky Way a smudge behind them.

I glance over at Luke. He’s gazing up at the sky, too, one hand tucked behind his head. Again, his profile reminds me of something out of an art gallery: straight nose, full lips, perfect chin with that shallow dimple. A sparkler seems to light inside my chest, and I look away. Sitting this close to Luke, in the dark, is dangerous.

“I lost most of it in my divorce,” he says, breaking the silence.

“You—you’re divorced?” I sputter. “How?”

“Well, ya see, my wife didn’t want to be married to me anymore, so she contacted an attorney and filed a—”

“I know how divorces work, Luke. I’m just…”Confused.It doesn’t sound like he initiated things, and maybe I’m biased, given my latent crush—which seems to be resurrecting itself—but I can’t imagine any woman who’d willingly let him out of her life. “Why?”

He gives a harsh laugh. “I was a shit husband, that’s why.”

I swallow, stunned. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business—”

“I didn’t cheat,” he cuts in. “Nothing like that. But I waswrapped up in my writing, didn’t pay enough attention to her, and when things didn’t go well with my first book, I got even more obsessed with making the next one a success. I can’t blame her for getting sick of all that. Anyway.” He clears his throat. “Officially divorced since March. Separated for about eighteen months before. It was messy, working everything out. She got half my advance in the settlement. And after paying my attorney’s fees…”

He trails off, and I nod.

His email responses about the mix-up with his cabin registration make more sense now. He was going through a nasty divorce, had no extra money, and needed a place to get away.

He shifts his weight, making the hammock swing. “I’ll get another payment when I turn this next book in. I’d love to use some of it to help save Camp Chickawah.”

I can tell he’s turning the topic of conversation away from himself, but that’s okay. I get it.

“Thanks,” I say. “That’s kind of you.”

After a pause, I can’t resist. “How’s the book coming? Can I see?”

I try to grab the notebook from his hands, but he pulls it away and holds it against his chest. The movement makes me fall against him, which gives me another jolt of sparks.

“Get your grubby hands off that,” he says. There’s amusement in his voice, like he’s close to laughing but won’t let it out.

I push myself up, putting space between us again. I’m getting way too comfortable around him.

“I’m reading your first book,” I say. “Almost done with it.”

His face goes blank. “You are not.”

I can’t help grinning at his obvious discomfort. “It’s really good—”

“Stop. Now.”

“Can’t. I’m desperate to find out what happens between Zolara and Prin when they reach the forbidden city and find Jax. I’m #TeamPrin, by the way.”

He leans back, exhaling. “God. Youarereading it.”

“And you can’t stop me.” I give his rib cage a poke.

He grabs my finger, holds it tight. “You really are a menace.”

“I’ll try to behave,” I say, locking eyes with him.

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