Page 34 of The Edge of Summer

And then she’s gone.

I stare at the spot where she was standing just a moment ago and run a hand over my mouth, disbelieving that that just happened.What the hell did I do?

What I do know for sure is that I am so fucking screwed.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

DELILAH

Imanageto make it a whole day without acknowledging what happened between me and Luke. But at some point between the start of my shift at Dockside this morning and Clara arriving at my house, she grows suspicious.

“Okay,” she declares. “I have to ask. Are you okay?”

“Of course.” The flat look on her face indicates I’m going to have to be more convincing. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You’re just acting…weird.”

“I’m not acting weird,” I insist.

Clara raises a brow. “You’re actingreallyweird.”

To evade her likely line of questioning, I take a sip of my margarita. Having a bartender for a friend comes in handy when you want a fancy drink but don’t have the energy to go to a bar—or a babysitter. One text and Clara brought what seemed like the whole bar setup to my kitchen island. Which is perfect because after the past few days I’ve had, I really need this drink.

“You’ve been really fidgety today,” she continues. She pops an olive in her mouth mid-sentence. Along with the alcohol, she brought a charcuterie board heaping with cheeses, meats and various pickled things. “You don’t fidget. And I don’t think you’ve made proper eye contact with me once. So again,weird.”

Perhaps my friend isn’t as oblivious as I hoped. Skirting by without acknowledging the elephant in the room seems less and less like a viable option.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just tired?”

Clara laughs. “Well, I maybe would have if you hadn’t said it likethat. What’s going on? Is it that douchebag ex of yours again?”

I’ve only shared a little bit about my relationship with Mitchell, but from what she has heard, she isnota fan. That makes two of us.

I exhale deeply. “No, not this time.”

She sets a hand on my arm, her gaze growing concerned. “Then what is it?”

I’m not sure how Luke would feel about his sister knowing the real reason why I’ve been off all day. We didn’t exactly have time to discuss it. But I don’t think I can keep it in any longer. I don’t think I want to. My head is a messy place to be and Clara is the first friend that’s made me feel comfortable enough to share everything, even if it is messy.

“Your brother…kissed me.”

Clara leaps off the couch, nearly spilling her drink and knocking the charcuterie to the floor. Her face is a mix of shock and a little disappointment. “Oh my God.Gabe?”

“What? No!” I set my glass on the coffee tableand cover my face with my hands, my cheeks flaming. Why did I decide to tell her this again? It definitely wasn’t one of my brightest ideas. “Luke. Luke kissed me.”

“Not Gabe?”

I shake my head, still hiding. “Not Gabe.”

“And you’re sure it was Luke?MyLuke?”

I groan. “I think I know who kissed me, Clara!”

When I peek out between my fingers, I’m not sure what I expect to find on her face. What I certainlydon’texpect is the sly smirk stretching across her pink-painted lips. It’s at this moment that the regret really starts to settle in.

“When did this happen? Where?”