Page 88 of Until Next Summer

“Luke…”

“I still think you’re hot.”

I ignore the flush of exhilaration. “And I still don’t think that’s a compliment because—”

“You have no control over it, I get it.” We reach his cabin and stop at the porch stairs. He faces me, that tiny smile playing on his lips. “Let me try again. Jessie, you’ve done an incredible job with this adult summer camp. Well done.”

I scoff. “Nice try.”

“Jessie, you’re an excellent conversationalist.”

“Hmmm.”

“Jessie, you’re good at making me laugh.”

“Except I don’t think I’ve ever made you laugh. You always stifle it!” I say.

His lips twitch. “You’re good atalmostmaking me laugh,” he amends. “And it’s sometimes very difficult to stifle.”

“Okay, okay. You do know how to give a compliment—”

“I’m not done.” He tilts his head, regarding me with a serious expression. “Jessie, you’re incredible at bringing people together, creating a community, and helping everyone feel welcome. You even mademefeel welcome, and I was an asshole to you.”

A tiny glow sparks in my chest.Thisfeels like a compliment, like a gift.

“You’re still kind of an asshole to me,” I say, trying to keep from smiling.

He rolls his eyes. “All right, smart-ass. Get out of here.”

I turn to go, but he wraps his hand around my arm and stops me. “Can I say one more thing? It’s not anything you can control, so it’s less of a compliment and more of an observation.”

I turn to face him. His hand is around my upper arm, and we’re only a foot apart. My breathing goes shallow. “Go ahead. What’s this observation?”

“That you’re beautiful,” he says. “Frustratingly, maddeningly, distractingly so. That I could write an entire paragraph about the freckles that live in the curve of your smile.” He lifts his hand, brushes the backs of his fingers against my cheek. His eyes are intensely blue, locked on mine. “That I keep thinking about how it felt to be in the water with my arm around you.” His other hand skims to the small of my back, pulling me closer. “That I’ve been having dreams about you again.”

I find my voice. “What kind of dreams?”

“You know damn well what kind.”

Liquid pools low in my belly, warm and slick. This is not the kind of interaction I ought to be having with a camper—because that’s what he is, a guest at the camp. But I can’t seem to step away. Especially not when Luke moves his hand to cradle my face. I lean into his palm, closing my eyes as his thumb strokes across my cheek, down my chin, up to my mouth. He traces the curve of my lips, sending goose bumps across my skin.

I inhale a shaky breath and open my eyes. He’s staring at me, focused and curious, like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. I’m mesmerized, watching as his lips part. I want nothing more than to feel his mouth on mine, and I lean forward, closing my eyes.

Instead, I feel his forehead press against mine, the whisper of his breath as he sighs.

Then he pulls back, and his warmth is replaced by the cool night air.

I open my eyes, confused. He’s shut down, his arms folded across his chest, and I immediately feel silly, like I misread this moment.

“Jess,” he says, an apology in his voice. “I’m not at a point in my life where I should get involved with anyone. Even for a few weeks.”

“Oh! Of course not. Me neither!” My voice is too loud, too bright. I take a step back, stumble over a root, and catch myself. “I—I should get going. Good night, Luke.”

In response, all he does is nod.

By the time I’m a few hundred yards away, my embarrassment has morphed into irritation. How dare he act likeIwas coming on to him?Hewas the one who did the coming on!

I’m about to turn right, onto the path that will loop back toward the big lawn in the center of camp, but I pause.

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