Page 52 of One Small Spark
He goes on standing there, alternating between watching me and watching August. Not that long ago, I would have said something snarky to encourage him to move along. He would have bantered back, and I would have glared as he walked away after getting in a parting shot.
Now…
“You can sit down. If you want.” There’s more bite to myoffer than I intend, but Callahan’s mouth tips up as if I issued him a fancy invitation complete with wax seal.
He sits next to me, stretches out his lanky legs while keeping his sneakers off my blanket, and leans back on his hands. He scans the park as if he’s not even seeing what’s in front of him, peak Callahan nonchalance on display.
But then his gaze collides with mine, and nothing about this feels nonchalant. It’s giving off deeply chalant vibes. A week ago, I didn’t even want to share the same air with him. But look at us now, sitting two feet apart on a picnic blanket, gazing into each other’s eyes like we’re acting out some romance book trope.
Again.
“Checking up on your business interests?” I ask, tilting my head toward the BMX trail.
August’s pedaling for all he’s worth, his attention divided between the path in front of him and the kids on the track. A crash is definitely in that kid’s future. I just hope it’s not on my watch. Ian can have that bonding moment.
“The pump track is maintained by a team of volunteers,” Callahan says. “We come out regularly to inspect it and see what needs to be done next time.”
“The pump track?”
His mouth tips up beneath his short beard. I should not be thinking about how surprisingly soft that beard feels when it scratches over my skin. Or that I want it there again, ASAP.
“You don’t pedal to get around it. You use your body weight to ‘pump’ the bike over the rollers.” He nods toward the course. “Watch.”
I rip my gaze away from his beard to observe the kids on the track. I’ve never paid much attention before, but he’s right. They’re not pedaling most of the time. They’re standing out of their seats and leaning from their shoulders to get the bike overthe humps, using that momentum to carry them through the valleys.
“And that’s fun?”
His soft chuckle brings my focus back to him. “Some people think so.”
“It’s biking without the actual biking.”
“Does that mean you’re interested in trying it?”
“No.” He doesn’t need to know just how many years it’s been since I rode a bicycle. Or how many times the wordbicyclehas flitted through my mind in the last two weeks.
More than average, that’s all I’m willing to say.
“I heard you need a ride to movie night.”
I spin to face him so fast, my neck cracks like a chiropractor’s ASMR video. “What?”
“Ada said you’re concerned about your car getting out there in one piece. She said I’d better offer, since you’re too shy to ask me to pick you up.”
“I didn’t—I never said—those devious little sneaks.” I should have known they would never be satisfied just dropping their hints tome. I hate to think what they’ve said behind my back. What I know now is more than enough.
He chuckles again, the low sound warm and cozy. “I figured as much. Nothing about you is shy.”
Nope. Loud and opinionated, that’s me. Unease crackles through me like a burst of static electricity. But he’s not watching me like he’s thinking about how obnoxious I am. It’s more like…admiration. Affection. Attr?—
A jazzy, electronic tune cuts through the air between us.
“Son of a bus.” I pull out the phone that has August’s continuous glucose monitor app on it and check the notifications. “Crap.”
I kneel up on the blanket and wave at August, who’s luckily on the nearest part of the loop around the BMX trail for thesecond time already. He spots me and pedals faster, heading our way. Thank the patron saint of little kids he’s not going to make me chase him down.
It’s happened. It’s not a good look for anybody.
“Everything okay?” Callahan asks as I sit back down.
