Page 56 of Grumpy Bear

“My mom.” He shook his head for a really long time. I was pretty sure I’d finally broken his ability to talk once and for all. “My mom let him, and I’ll never forgive her for it. It was the worst betrayal I will ever experience in my lifetime.”

For the millionth time, I wondered what my mama would’ve done if she’d lived. I’d always told myself she would have stood up for us against my dad. She would’ve fought him. I’d never know. That might have been a blessing.

Luke went back to preaching to the room. “At this point, I just want to play. I don’t need my life to be about making it big, but I need it to be about making music. In some small way. I don’t care if I have to do random jobs for extra money. I’m not afraid to be poor so long as music is a part of my life. It’s my one true joy. I’ve confirmed that the hard way. Without it, everything else is just… dim.”

I wanted to say, Work here. Play here. I’ll let you pursue any joy you want. Do it with me. But what kind of crazy stalker dude hooks up with someone one time at a campground and asks them to come spend their life with him? So I hinted at it, but hid it behind some self-deprecation. “I guess working at a campground and playing for a bunch of drunk bears is not quite what you had in mind.”

Tell me I’m wrong. Say something miraculously unexpected that I don’t deserve to hear because that would make you too brave for me.

Luke smiled. “It’s not what I was looking for or necessarily expecting.” He turned his smile on me. “But I’m having a blast.”

Okay. It wasn’t a no. He hadn’t shot me down. “Is there somewhere else you want to be? With friends or…?”

“The friends were all Jeremy’s. There’s no place I’d rather be.”

My pulse started pounding so hard I thought he could surely feel it moving the bed.

Then he finished his thought. “But I made a promise to myself.”

I managed to swallow, even though there wasn’t a drop of moisture left in my mouth. “What’s the promise?”

“That I won’t give up my music—my dreams—to live inside someone else’s life again. To only support someone else’s career. To take a back seat to someone else’s success. I’d rather have something small that’s mine than something big that belongs to somebody else.” He looked at me, suddenly regretful and apologetic. “I probably sound like a selfish asshole. I’m not saying I don’t want to support someone—”

“But it needs to be reciprocated.” I finished the thought for him because I wanted him to know I would reciprocate.

“Somebody once told me it’s not fifty-fifty. Both partners have to give one hundred percent.”

That word. Partners. That was some serious shit. Cue my snark. “Did this person understand how percentages work?”

He laughed and kissed me. I hadn’t ruined it.

“Do you think you’d be cool with doing this again?” I asked.

He pulled back, surprised. “Now?”

“Fuck no, not now. I’m too old for that, and we have to work in the morning.” I looked at the clock and groaned. “I meant, why don’t you play at the bonfire tomorrow night, then stay with me again, here in the cabin. For the rest of the weekend.” I took a chance on laying it out there, all the options, with as little pressure as possible. “You cool with that?”

His smile was shy but excited. “That could definitely happen.”

23

Luke

Austin busted me humming Diana Ross’s “The Sweetest Hangover.”

“Bro.” He slammed the cabana bar fridge shut. “You’re glowing and shit.”

“Shut up.” I was already self-conscious enough wearing these skimpy shorts again. Turned out Jim and Austin decided last night these should be the cabana boys’ work uniform for the pool party today. Just the shorts. “I got a lot of sun yesterday.”

“Uh-huh. You got a lot of something yesterday. That good vitamin D.”

I rolled my eyes at him. If there was ever a gay Southern version of Jersey Shore, Austin would be the star of the show.

He took my chin and turned my face side to side, scrutinizing me with an arched brow. “Tell-tale beard burn. Blood red lips. Is that a human bite mark, or is the man a bear shifter? Because that would explain a lot.”

I jerked my head out of his grasp, trying to hide the lovesick smile that had been a permanent fixture on my face since I’d woken up that morning.

“Did you get any sleep? Your eyes are awfully puffy. You’re looking at me through slits right now. Can you even see me? How many fingers am I holding up? Ow!”