The next morning, Avery found himself at the cemetery without having had the conscious thought to go there. He glared down at his car, as though it somehow had driven there on its own. That was stupid, but a restless night made Avery’s brain work at less than optimal levels.
He wasn’t exactly surprised he’d wound up there. He’d been thinking about Luke and how his new and confusing feelings for Jameson went against everything he’d promised.
With a sigh, Avery pushed open the door and climbed out. For a long moment, he just stood and allowed the breeze to tug at his hair. It was a bright, clear day, if a little cool—the kind of day Luke had loved. The thought made him smile.
Though Avery didn’t come there often, he had no trouble finding his way to Luke’s grave. It was as he remembered,
