Page 100 of The Rebound
“Excuse me?”
“Come on,” he says. “You’re beautiful, Abby.” He stops walking when I do, again with that stupid smile on his face. “Are you blushing?”
“No.”
“You are. You’re embarrassed.”
“It’s warm!” I say, pressing my hands to my cheeks, which okay, are a little heated.
“I didn’t mean to make you blush.”
“Yes, you did,” I grumble, but he’s still smiling at me and I like that he is so I don’t push it. “The accent worked for me as well,” I say. “Not so much of a novelty here though.”
“No. Definitely one of the downsides of moving home.”
I start walking again but he doesn’t, so two steps bring me straight to him.
“Thank you for bringing me today,” I say, peering up at him. “It could have been a disaster.”
“I wanted to,” he says. “Even if I pretended I didn’t.” His eyes widen then and he takes a step back. “I almost forgot.”
My heart skips a beat as he opens the Brown Thomas bag but he sees the look on my face immediately. “It’s Mam’s birthday present,” he says before I can get ahead of myself. “But you don’t come away completely empty-handed.”
He draws out a bar of chocolate and tosses it to me.
“First thing you need after an adrenaline rush like that,” he says as my mouth waters at the sight of it.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“You don’t think I noticed you eating all those eggs at the Fun Day?” He smiles. “Well done on the interview.”
I rip it open, not realizing how hungry I was. But I shouldn’t be surprised, I’ve barely eaten anything all day. “Do you want some?” I ask, or at least I try to around the four squares I just bit off. It is with supreme effort that I don’t moan at the taste of it.
He shakes his head, looking pleased. “It’s for you.”
We start walking again, slower now as we turn the corner toward the car. I’ve almost finished the whole bar when he speaks again, ruining my good mood.
“I’m going to talk to Beth.”
“No. Luke—”
“Yes,” he says calmly. “As soon as I get back. I’m going to tell her how I feel about you and we’ll take it from there.”
I don’t say anything, folding the wrapper into a tiny square. How he feels about me. How’s that for a vague statement? But I know nothing I say now will deter him. And I know that’s right. That’s what adults do. They talk.
“Just…” I sigh. “Be nice, okay?”
“What do you think I’m going to do?”
“Please.”
He pauses, realizing how serious I am. “I will be.”
“And gentle. Be gentle.”
“Abby—”
“Maybe buy her some flowers.”
