The Summer We Fell (The Summer, #1)(80)

He pulls me into him, and his hands slide over my hips as he buries his face in my hair. “I can’t fucking stand this. If I thought you were going to be okay, if I thought you were getting what you wanted in the end, I’d walk. It would hurt, but I’d walk. But Jesus…Nicaragua? Living as a missionary? Name one thing about that whole scenario that’s for you, that’s what you want.”

I’d like to come up with something that proves he’s wrong, but my brain is empty. I can’t think of a single thing about it that appeals to me. “Not everyone gets a happy ending, Luke. Not everyone gets what they want out of life.”

“You think I don’t fucking know that? I know better than anyone alive that not everyone gets a happy ending. But at least I’m not handing mine away. At least I’m willing to fight for it.”

His breath skates over my face, his eyes on my mouth, and my heart takes on that irregular pattern it always does when he’s too close. I think I’d give up a decade of my life to have him kiss me again, but I shake my head, warning him off.

He releases me. “I’m going to leave now,” he says.

I watch as he turns away, heading for the shore. I wish I could film this, film every minute of him walking and laughing and sleeping and surfing, so I could hold onto him once he’s gone.

He gets roughly ten feet away and turns to look back at me.

“Fuck it,” he says, reaching me in five long strides before grabbing my face and kissing me hard. I don’t stop him. I breathe in the smell of his shampoo, the salt on his skin, taste his lips and try to memorize all of it—his smell, his size, the tightness of his grip.

“Choose me, Juliet,” he whispers. “Please fucking choose me.”

And then he walks away and doesn’t look back.

I cry until there’s nothing left. I’ll need to look for Danny now, I guess, and apologize for what I said about his father, and then reassure him that the lukewarm response he got about Nicaragua doesn’t mean anything, that this future he’s planning is all I could ever want.

I’ve got many, many years ahead of pretending the things Danny and Donna want are the things I want too. I know I owe them that much, but it seems like a very long life without Luke. Long and utterly pointless.

I walk slowly toward the house, my teeth clenched with the effort to hold myself together. I freeze at the sound of creaking wood when I reach the back porch and turn. Danny is in a rocking chair by the stairs, watching me.

I step toward him, uncertainly. We were too far away for him to overhear us, and it’s too dark to see anything from here, but he’s never been one to sit by himself. “Hey. What are you doing down here?”

He climbs to his feet. “Waiting for you to explain why you were kissing my best friend.”

I sag against the wall. Of all the possible things that could have happened—me hurting him by leaving or calling off the wedding—this is a hundred times worse.

I could claim I was drunk, but I don’t know what he’s heard, and the truth is probably coming out no matter what I say.

“Danny,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. We were talking about Nicaragua and it just…happened.”

“Talking about Nicaragua?” he demands with an unhinged laugh. “Was he offering you the luxurious lifestyle of a guy with two sponsors instead? Newsflash, Juliet, getting a sponsor doesn’t mean he’s rich. He won’t be living any better than us.”

“Of course not.”

“How long has it been going on?” His voice cracks and the pain in it destroys me. This would be easier if he were simply enraged right now.

“Nothing is going on.” I’m a liar to my core. “I haven’t seen him or even spoken to him since he was here for your dad’s funeral.”

He holds a hand over his face. “I’m so stupid. I’m so fucking stupid. You’ve always loved him, haven’t you? Fucking always. And he’s always loved you. Luke was the one who got into fights over you. Luke was the one rushing off to your rescue, and I thought he was just a good guy.”

“Danny—”

He laughs. “Your tears last winter when he surfed Mavericks. God, was it going on then too?”

“No! Of course not. You and I were in the same tent, and he was with one of the other girls. You know that.”

“Do you love him?” he asks. “No, don’t answer. I don’t want to hear a single word from your lying mouth right now.”

He starts walking away, and it feels vital that we don’t leave things like this, that I somehow make him feel better. But the only way to do it is by swearing Luke means nothing to me, that I want to stick with the plans we made. I can’t do that.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

He stares at me. “I don’t even know.”

I hurt him. I hurt him just the way Luke predicted I would.

I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. My first instinct is to get Luke, but he’s still out there somewhere and I doubt he’s even got his phone. I need to know how Danny and I are resolving this before I discuss it with him anyway.

I can hear the shouts of the guys playing beer pong inside, and drunken screams of the girls upstairs, singing at the top of their lungs to Rihanna. I can’t stand to face any of them, so I walk up to the second-floor deck and enter our room from the sliding glass door.