Page 34 of Beautiful Distraction

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I incline my head. “You should. You’re a good cook.”

“And you’re a good guest.”

“Thanks, Iguess,” I mumble. “You said you got your car repaired?”

Thankfully, he pulls back, and I find myself able to breatheagain.

“You can’t repair a Lamborghini, Ava.” He’s looking at melike I’m completely mad for even suggesting such an outrageous thing. “I triedand then I traded it in for a new one.”

“Ah. That makes sense,” I say dryly. “Now that you got ridof the dent, will you buy a new one if you need a tire change, too?”

“Probably,” he says, not even picking up on my sarcasm. “Andhow’s your car?”

I shrug. “Same old. Same old.”

“Why didn’t you take the money? You could have easily had itrepaired.” His gaze pierces me with such intensity, I almost flinch.

“What?”

“I wrote you a check,” he says slowly. “Why did you throw itback at me?”

I flick my tongue over my lips, lost for words. His gaze isglued to my mouth, and for a moment, his eyes glaze over, as though he’s amillion miles away, overtaken by the thoughts in his head.

What can I say?

That I would have felt cheap taking money from him? Whichobviously makes no sense whatsoever.

“It was too much,” I mutter. “You weren’t realistic.Besides, I didn’t know you.”

He nods and looks away. The air is heavy with something Ican’t define. I don’t know what to do with myself, so I just take another sipof my coffee.

“Are you always so—”

“Sensible? Rational?” I suggest the two words Mandy has beenthrowing at me for years.

He shakes his head. “No. I was thinking more along the linesof sincere and brutally honest.”

The way he sums up those personality traits makes them sounddistinctly negative.

Maybe I should have shut my mouth about the tire changingpart.

“So, where’s Mandy again?” I ask, eager to change the subjectbefore we insult each other some more.

“She’s headed into town.”

“I can’t believe she would just leave without telling me.Did she say why?”

He shakes his head. “No, only that it’s urgent and that sheneeds something from the shops.”

I glance out of the window. It’s still windy, but the cloudsare gone. When Mandy says something’s urgent, it usually isn’t. A sliver ofhope colors my voice. If Mandy decided to walk, then the streets are clear andwe’ll be gone by midday. She’ll be back soon, and I’ll no longer have to bealone with him.

“She should have told me,” I say, even though I know I soundlike a little girl who’s afraid of being alone with her first crush.

“You were sleeping,” Kellan says, grinning.

I regard him intently. “How do you know? Did you peek intomy room?” Realizing my blunder, I add quickly, “Obviously notmyroom but your guestroom.”

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