close in age with Luke, we were together always. In the same class at school. In the same sports. Worked summers in the greenhouse together. Luke’s personality was so big, so vibrant, that I was swept up in his wake. I didn’t mind. Luke was a beacon, calling attention and manifesting happiness, reflecting it back on everyone around him. Every crazy idea, I was there for. All the parties, all the girls. All the sneaking onto rooftops and into bars. He was the ultimate wingman, making sure I had someone to take my hand before he found someone to take his.
But here was the thing—I was so tethered to Luke that who he was became who people thought I was. I didn’t know who, if anyone, knew me out of the context of him, and I never corrected them. It was easier that way. Let them think they knew me. I had no desire to prove them wrong.
Just like Lila’s view of me, I was sure, was colored by her assumptions.
As was my view of her. But I knew there was more to her story. A person wasn’t just born with that much of a penchant for control. Something must have happened to make her that way, and I longed to know what. To understand her. It had to be that curiosity that drove me to consider all she’d said, all she’d admitted, with the flippancy of someone who didn’t care but the tone of someone who did.
She cared, but she didn’t want anyone to know she cared. Lila Parker was covered in head to toe dragon scales, impermeable to mere mortals. At least, that was what she wanted everyone to think.
But I knew better.
The bedroom door opened without a knock, announcing Luke’s entry strictly by lack of respect of privacy. I closed my sketchbook as he entered with a smile and took up residence in his old desk chair, leaning back lazily. He propped his feet on the old trunk at the foot of the bunks.
“Whatcha drawing?” he asked with a nod to my lap where my sketchbook lay.
“Just something I saw when I was out,” I hedged. “How’d it go at the Long Island farm today?”
“I wish we got out there more instead of ordering what we don’t grow online. Tess went nuts, over-ordered by half.” His smile took over his face. “I don’t even know what we’ll do with all of it. We filled up the entire delivery truck.”
“Oh, I’m sure Tess will figure something out.”
“Me too. How about you? Lila give you any shit?”
“Nah, it wasn’t so bad. She’s like a toothless dog. All bark, no bite.”
“I dunno. I’ve seen those choppers, and I’m pretty sure they could do some damage.”
I shrugged. “Just gotta have thick skin, little brother.”
I reached for my sketchbook, opening it further back to find the sketches and measurements I’d done. The pages ripped with a crack of sound, and I leaned into the room with them extended, and he met me in the middle.
“Measurements for you and Tess.”
Flipping through them, he nodded. “This arbor is cool. Ask her if she wants to keep it—otherwise, I think Tess might want it. We’ll just charge them for a loan instead of the piece plus labor.”
“I’ll let her know.”
Luke shook his head. “How the hell did you become the point person for Lila Parker?”
“Ivy’s about to be gone, and none of you babies have the constitution for her.”
“You always were the better Bennet.”
“Better or dumber?”
“Maybe both.”
I huffed a laugh. “I can handle her. Don’t worry about me.”
“I never do.” He watched me for a second with that X-ray vision one obtained simply from knowing someone so well. “You like her.”
I made a face. “Now who’s dumber?”
But he didn’t falter. “You do. Look at that.”
“I don’t even know her. Plus, she’s not my type.”
“Oh? And what is your type? You’ve gone on twenty dates since we came home this summer. Twenty first dates.”
“Because they’re all with girls like Verdant. You know how that is.”
At that, he backed off a hair, nodding. “Fair enough. But what about somebody else? Somebody you choose?”
“When do I have time? Mom has me booked out until I’m forty or get married, whichever comes first.”
“And Lila is right up there with Verdant and Charity and all the rest of them,” he stated, understanding the dilemma.
“Girls like that don’t want second dates with gardeners who sleep in bunk beds in their mom’s house. Blue collar guys without degrees. Or pedigrees.”