The Summer of No Regrets (12 page)

In a sheltered V of driftwood logs, we ate fish and chips (mozzarela sticks and chips for me). The wind blew sand into my chips. I blew back, but only succeeded in shooting sand into Luke’s eyes. “Hey!” he said. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Want me to kiss you and make it better?” I teased, astonished with myself. Brigitta in Kwahnesum was responsible and steady. This Brigitta who had shown up in my body was just short of outrageous. I flopped back onto the sand and let him kiss me. His lips were cold this time. His blue, blue eyes stared down at me.

“I don’t want to go home.” I sighed.

Luke sat back against the logs. “Neither do I,” he said. His gaze shifted to the beach grass. He plucked a bit of it by his foot.

“Are you in there?” I moved to the log beside him.

He shifted his eyes toward me. “Yeah, I’m here.” He put an He shifted his eyes toward me. “Yeah, I’m here.” He put an arm around my shoulders.

I snuggled against him. “You’re awfuly quiet all of a sudden.” He rubbed my shoulder. “Just running movies in my head again.”

I looked at him sideways. “Movies.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t smile.

“Okay, so what’s in these movies?”

He ran a hand along my arm. “The plot’s a little thin.”

“How about the characters?”

He scooped a handful of sand and let it trickle out his fist.

“Wel, there’s this kid and there’s this woman.” He shook his head. “Oh, forget it.”

“No!” I turned to him. “There’s a kid and there’s a woman.

Tell me about them.”

He laughed duly. “It’s a stupid movie, Brigitta.” I put my head on his chest, amazed at my audacity. He needed me to not look at him.

He kissed my hair and rested his cheek on the top of my head.

“The kid in this movie thinks he’s smart.” His voice rumbled through his rib cage. “So see, this movie’s a comedy. Because when the woman’s had enough Scotch she’s got lots of entertaining things to say to her kid. Plus, she’s able to hit a French door with a Chinese vase from fifteen feet. And the kid figures out he’s not as smart as he thought.” I sat up. “Luke, is that what’s happening at your house?” His eyes clouded, and he didn’t answer. I had broken the spell.

“Hey.” He gave my back a quick rub. “We’ve got to get back. Kittens, right?”

The kittens! I puled my cell phone out of my pocket. “It’s 8:30!”

Luke scrambled up.

Luke scrambled up.

At the Jeep Luke peeled off his sandy jacket. His shirt rose up, flashing a hard, muscular bely. It gave me a strange quivery feeling. I glanced away quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed. He tossed the jacket in the trunk with the blanket and unzipped his duffel. Inside I could see two pairs of jeans, several pairs of socks, a clear carry case with toothbrush, razor, comb. He extracted a pair of black sneakers.

“How long were you planning to stay here?” I asked him.

“A while.” He dumped the sand out of his shoes.

He had packed the car before he heard me playing Bizet. He had planned to go alone, to escape. Only I had changed his plans.

Luke put on the black sneakers and stuck his blue ones next to the sandy clothes.

“What are you going back to?”

“A pair of adorable cougar cubs and a girl who lives in a tree.”

“Is your mom violent? Does she hurt you?”

He closed the hatch. “She’s fine, Brigitta. I can handle myself.”

I’d gone too far.

He jingled his keys. “Ready to hit the road?” I retrieved my half-finished Coke from the running board of the Jeep and dumped it out. “I’ll be right back.” I nodded toward a trash can at the far end of the parking lot.

If he was going home, it was only because of me. And if I didn’t get to those kittens soon, I’d be putting them in danger.

But was Luke in danger? Was his mom on some kind of drinking rampage?

I threw the cup away. I could see him leaning against the hood of the Jeep, watching the waves. He had the drawn look he’d had when I first saw him from the tree house. How could I buy him a little time?

Malory answered on the third ring. “Hey,” she said dreamily.

Malory answered on the third ring. “Hey,” she said dreamily.

“What’s up, Gita?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Where are you, Gita? I only stopped home to get clothes.

I’m not planning to stay.”

Webster’s voice probed in the background.

“Will you not tell him if I tell you?”

“I suppose. What’s this about, Brigitta? Webster, give me a minute? Little sister has a crisis.” A car door closed.

I was tempted to hang up, but Felix and Kalimar were waiting. I talked her down the path and out to the cougar tree.

She exclaimed when she saw them. “They’re so sweet!

They’re licking me! Pew, they stink, though. Brigitta, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Can you feed them? And make sure there’s water?” I could hear her cranking open a can.

“Are they okay?”

“They look great. Their eyes are so blue. They’re gobbling this food.”

“Malory,” I started tentatively. “If I was gone overnight, could you check on them?”

“Brigitta, you still haven’t told me where you are.”

“You never tell me.”

“Are you with Devon?”

I didn’t answer.

“How far away are you?”

“I’m at the coast.” At least I’d give her that.

She laughed. “Now that’s a switch! You’ve taken my trip!

Oh, the big one’s cleaning himself. Is it a he or a she?”

“The big one’s Felix. You won’t tell Mom and Dad?”

“Mom and Dad don’t have to know everything, my little saint.

God, Brigitta, you never do anything, do you?”

“Can you look after the kittens?”

“No worries. They’re so cute! I’ll just tell Webster we’re sleeping here.” She paused. “Brigitta, are you prepared? Do you have condoms?”

“Malory!” Alarm bels went off in my head. No, I wouldn’t need condoms. Luke and I had slept in the tree house, and the subject of condoms had never come up. But my chest tightened as I looked across the driftwood at him, still staring at the water.

“Just be smart, Brigitta. Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?”

“No!” I colected myself. “Malory, thanks for watching the kittens.”

“No problem, little sister.”

Luke smiled when he saw me. “Ready?”

I was afraid to touch him after Malory’s condom talk. And after glimpsing his stomach. I put my hands in my pockets (which were actualy Luke’s pockets, since I was still wearing his clothes). “The kittens are fine. Malory fed them.” I hesitated.

“She said she’d watch them…all night.” I focused on my shoes.

Luke looked at me sharply. “Realy?”

“My parents don’t come home until tomorrow night.” Luke put his hand on my arm. “You don’t have to do this.”

“You need time away from that woman in the movie.” This time, he met my eyes.

Luke stepped up to the desk of the Sea Star Motel as if he knew what he was doing. Now that we were here I was beginning to panic. Was I realy going to spend the entire night with him? The panic. Was I realy going to spend the entire night with him? The lobby was small: ’70s wood paneling, a spindle of paperbacks.

The girl behind the counter looked up from filing. Her name tag said “Liza.” She was a perfect tiny-waisted blonde with impeccable makeup.

“Two rooms?” said Luke.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Two rooms would be okay. We could talk and then go our separate ways to sleep.

Liza scrutinized him and then glanced at me. “It’s the Street Rods show tomorrow,” she said. “All the old cars? Every room in town is booked.”

A mixture of relief and disappointment swept over me.

A white-haired man poked his head in from a back room.

“207’s open,” he said. “I just had a cancelation.” My pulse quickened again. We were back to one room. What on earth was I doing here? The silk potted palms stared at me, as if they were wondering, too.

“Okay.” Liza looked on the computer. “That’s one of our Jacuzzi fireplace suites. Real nice. View of the water. Queen bed.”

Bed? Singular? My heart dropped to my toes.

“Fine,” said Luke. He puled a card out of his walet, studiously keeping his eyes off me.

Could he hear my heart slamming against my rib cage?

Liza ran the card through her machine and handed him a keypad for his PIN. “Hey,” she said, giving him a closer look,

“you’re not—”

“No,” said Luke. “I’m not him.” He pocketed his walet and took the key.

Liza watched us go out the door. She was whispering something to the white-haired man.

“What did I tell you?” he said, when we were back outside.

“That’s always happening.”

My mind was still stuck on bed, singular, so that I almost My mind was still stuck on bed, singular, so that I almost didn’t know what he was talking about. He grabbed the duffel from the Jeep, and we climbed the stairs. I couldn’t avoid staring at his broad back. I took long, slow breaths as we stepped onto the second floor walkway.

“Is this it?” My voice had gone all squeaky.

Luke put the key in the lock.

The door opened and my eyes took in the room: a kitchenette, a fireplace, a Jacuzzi with huge mirrors mounted on the wals behind it. And the bed. A four-poster. Only one. Luke closed the door behind us and went silent.

I was afraid to touch anything. Luke put his duffel on the luggage rack and emptied his pockets onto the bedside table while I perched on the edge of an armchair. He hung his denim jacket in the closet. “There’s, um, probably tea in the kitchen,” he said.

“I don’t want anything.” I kept my hands in the hoodie pocket, over my bely.

Luke went into the bathroom, and I got up, tentatively, to explore the room. There was a switch for the fireplace. I turned it on, then off. The Jacuzzi was deep—big enough for two people. A rubber duck peered at me from a stack of towels. In the mirrors my face stared back at me. My hair was tangled, and my cheeks were pinker than usual. A sprinkling of sand ran across my jawline. I brushed it away. In Luke’s clothes I looked like a different girl. I puled the hoodie off and draped it over a chair.

On the bedside table were Luke’s car keys, a handful of agates we’d found on the beach, his walet. I wiled my mind to stop whirling. Downstairs, Liza was probably caling the press.

Sily. Just like Natalie.

still, the paralels between Luke Geoffrey and Trent Yves were hard to ignore: the unexplained absences, the crazy mom—

and especialy his looks. Even he knew he looked like Trent. I sat down on the bed and fingered Luke’s walet. If I opened it and puled the card out, would it say Luke Geoffrey? Or would it say Michael Boeglin? The walet was worn and brown in my palm. How could Luke afford to pay for a room like this? He didn’t have a summer job that I could see. Did his wealthy parents just drop money into his bank account?

In the bathroom, the shower was running. I tried not to think about Luke in there naked. I flipped the walet open. Inside was a picture of a man and woman, who had to be Luke’s parents.

They had their arms around each other and were laughing. A few cards peeked over the tops of the walet pockets: a blue one, a red one, a Bank of America card. I could see the top of Luke’s head in the picture. I hesitated. If I were Natalie, I’d want him to be Trent. But that was fake, a fantasy. Luke was a real boy with real pain. I wanted to be with him, not Trent. I ran my finger over the cards. How could I snoop like this? I’d told Luke I trusted him. If he wasn’t who he said he was, wouldn’t he have been honest with me by now?

I dropped the walet back on the nightstand. The sun was setting. I went to the sliding door and puled the curtains back.

The sky was orange-rose over the water. The clouds shifted colors. Luke came up behind me and put his hands on my waist.

His hair was wet, and he had on a different pair of jeans and a red T-shirt. My heart began to pound again. I wanted to bolt and I wanted to stay. I leaned against him, and he laced his hands across my bely. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered and an electric jolt ran through me. I turned into his arms, and his mouth came down hard on mine. His hands moved across my back; he pressed me to him. This was different from on the beach. My insides sped up, my blood racing through my veins in a rapid circuit. I felt his hard muscles as my hands, with a mind of their own, slid up his arms and shoulders. He kissed my eyes, my cheeks, my neck, and then came back to my lips. Nervously, I opened my mouth like I’d seen in the movies, and his tongue opened my mouth like I’d seen in the movies, and his tongue came in and tickled mine. Before I knew it, we were on the bed, his fingers tracing my jaw, my throat. He trailed his hand down, and his fingers slipped under the blue shirt and made circles on my bely. I was entirely electric.

“You’re so amazing,” he said.

I wanted him to stop; I wanted him to keep going. His hand moved up until it cupped my breast.
Is
this
a
good
idea?
my brain asked.
Yes!
my body answered.

Luke’s fingers ran along the edge of my bra, touching my skin.

It felt both delicious and terrifying; I was shooting the rapids—

about to go over the fals. He slid his fingertips under the cloth.

“Wait!” I pushed away from him.

He sat up. His face was flushed and his hair was tousled. Both of us were breathing hard. He looked at and then away from me.

“I’m sorry, Brigitta. I—I’m an idiot.”

“No,
I’m
sorry. It’s just—you’re going too fast. I’m not ready.”

He swung his legs over the bed and bowed his head, his back to me. “I’m not either,” he said in a low voice. “I mean, I’m not unready…” He ran the curtain through his fingers. “I don’t want you to think I brought you here for that. I mean…” He let out his breath. “God, I am such an idiot!”

My mouth was dry. I looked at my still-damp sneakers. I was the idiot. I hadn’t told him I wasn’t ready for sex before I let him rent us a room. Maybe I wondered if I was. My ankles chafed with sand inside the cuffs of the green sweats.

Luke put his hands on his knees. “Do you want to leave?” I walked around the bed and slid the door open. Outside the waves roled and splashed. The sun was gone. I stepped onto the balcony, and the air cooled my face. I turned back to him.

He looked so miserable.

“Do you have any other sweats in that bag of yours? I don’t think I’d fit in your jeans.” I blushed.

Luke roled across the bed and lobbed a pair of black sweats Luke roled across the bed and lobbed a pair of black sweats and a white T-shirt at me.

Even after I’d locked the bathroom door, showering felt awkward knowing he was out there. I looked down at my bare body, and it felt new—worthy even. I touched my breast where his hand had been. Had I stopped him too soon? Or not soon enough?

I brushed my teeth with my finger and some of Luke’s toothpaste. Using his toothpaste seemed even more intimate than wearing his clothes. I slid on the clean sweats and shirt and found a comb in a plastic wrapper, which I ran through my hair. I could hear Luke pacing. Would Trent Yves be this nervous about a girl

—about me? That seemed unlikely. I was glad for not having puled out his debit card. What if he’d walked in when it was in my hand?

He was back out on the balcony when I emerged. I sat down in one of the fireplace armchairs and gave it a twirl. It spun slowly so that I was facing the sliding door when Luke stepped into the room. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was still messy. He looked less and less like Trent and more and more like Luke. He sat in the other armchair. “Are you okay?” he said.

“Do you want to go?”

“I’m okay,” I said. He was so not Trent. If Trent had a girl in a motel room, he would definitely not be offering to drive her home before he got what he wanted.

He stood up and went into the kitchen where he opened the fridge and then closed it. He came out empty-handed and peered into the Jacuzzi. Then he went to the sliding door and shut it, straightened one of the wall pictures, and walked to the fireplace where he flipped the switch on and off.

“Luke,” I said. “It’s all right to sit down.” He left the fireplace on and sat, shifting in his chair several times.

“Could you possibly be more nervous than I am?” I surprised

“Could you possibly be more nervous than I am?” I surprised myself by saying this aloud.

He gave a short laugh. “Yes.” He surveyed the carpet. “I realy blew it, didn’t I?”

All the anxiety drained out of me. “I like you so much,” I said.

He rewarded my brazenness with a broad grin. “Same back,” he said.