The Fluke

12 - Luke

I try to get Spencer to let me call us an Uber to get to the Tennis Garden but he refuses me. Also, none of the guys are in the mood to drink after last night so we end up taking two of Spencer's cars.

Jules winds up in a showy old school convertible with Spencer and I'm driving his Range Rover, Gavin sitting shot gun. Slade opted to sleep off his hangover and Nate called to let us know he's spending the day with Amber, so it's just the four of us for the day.

I try to keep the shit eating grin off my face as we pull out of the driveway, especially with hawk eye Gavin riding shot gun.

Thinking about last night and this morning on the pool deck with Jules has adrenaline pumping through my veins, and my imagination is running wild with thoughts of what I want to do to her. And what I want her to do to me.

I feel a small pit of guilt sitting like a rock in my stomach at the thought of Jules still thinking we had sex in Seattle. I need to come clean with her about that. I should have told her when she gave me a perfect opportunity last night but she was making it hard. Literally.

Her confidence was like an invitation and her body was like my grand prize, and then she begged me to touch her. I lost all control. As amazing as it was, as strong as the pull between us is, a part of me is aware that the longer I wait to clear the air about Seattle the worse off I might be.

I don't want anything to screw up my second chance with her, so I promise myself right now I'll tell her the next time we're alone. I curse silently wishing that I'd used this morning to get it out of the way but I couldn't focus on anything except getting my hands on her. She's too damn tempting.

I know that was a risky move, too. Before everyone had gone inside to get ready, Gavin's focus on me hadn't gone unnoticed. His focus on Jules in general was also painfully obvious.

I've known Gavin for years but we've never been particularly close. I'm close to the other guys, Spencer especially, but Gavin and I have butted heads on more than one occasion in the past. It's safe to say that if it wasn't for Spencer then I doubt Gavin and I would have ever maintained a friendship after Stanford.

And given the circumstances, Gavin's sharp shooter tendencies may pose to be a problem for me.

"Did Spence tell you Tessa is coming down on Friday?" Gavin asks.

Oh, fuck. Left field with that one.

"Is she?" I play it cool. Fuck fuck fuck.

"Yeah, dude. You hear about her divorce?"

I grimace. "Yeah. Sucks."

I heard about her divorce. I heard all about her divorce.

Tessa and I are one of those classic cases of right place, wrong time for as long as we've known each other, or so I used to think. We met through Spencer during sophomore year and we were both happy in relationships, but there was no doubt that she was a beautiful girl.

A few months later we were both single but within a few days Tessa had been scooped up by some guy who rowed crew. Their relationship lasted a few months and by the time they broke up I was dating a girl I'd be with for the next three years. When my relationship came to an end, Tessa had been introduced to Andrew and they eventually got married.

Tessa and I hadn't kept in close contact after graduation but we'd connect once in awhile if she came through New York for work. Then she showed up on my doorstep three months ago and stayed for a week. It had finally been the right place, right time.

She left New York to deal with her divorce, I sold my business three weeks later and decided to make the move to the west coast. All of a sudden right place, right time became wrong place, wrong time all over again.