Page 92 of The Rebound
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I joke as I pull the door shut.
Nothing.
Okay then.
I stare forward as he backs out of the drive. It’s not just Luke who’s uncomfortable. It’s been a while since I’ve worn formal clothing and Jess’s skirt is tight around my waist, stretching across my thighs. I pull subtly at the waistband, thinking about my notes folded neatly in my purse. I had planned to read through them one final time on the journey but the thought of taking them out now in front of Luke makes me feel self-conscious. And then I get mad at myself for feeling that way. And then I get mad at him formakingme feel that way.
“Do you mind if I put some music on?” I ask about five minutes out of the village. Five minutes of utter silence that was driving me insane.
He shrugs.
Well, it’s better than nothing.
I press a button and the local radio station turns on, playing a song I don’t know.
“That’s about as much as I know about cars,” I say, glancing at his stony expression. “I’ve never even had a lesson. Well, that’s not true. Dad started giving me lessons. But they lasted about three minutes before he’d stop. He wouldn’t even let me into the village.”
Silencio.
Fine.
No. You know what? Not fine.
I turn to him, tugging down my seat belt so I can face him fully.
“Or we can just spend the next two and a half hours not talking?” I ask. “Whatever you want.”
“It’s three hours.”
“He speaks!” I sit back with a huff. “If you hate me that much, you didn’t have to give me a ride.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Could have fooled me,” I mutter. “Look, any other time I would give this moment to you. I’m the one in the wrong here, I know. But not now. Not this morning. Not today. So please yell at me or snap at me or just talk to me. Don’t sulk. Don’t give me one more thing to worry about.”
He doesn’t respond. In fact, he doesn’t respond for so long I think I’ve provoked him into giving me the silent treatment when he takes a breath. “It’s just…”
“What? Tell me.”
“I don’t understand you!” he exclaims, and he sounds so genuinely confused that I swallow the retort on my tongue. “I don’t understand any of this. From the moment you got back here, you made it pretty obvious that you’re into me. But every time I see you since it’s like I have to figure you out all over again. You have a fiancé but then you don’t. You flirt with me, you kiss me, and you…” He shakes his head, hands flexing against the steering wheel. “You say you want to be friends but then you want more. We start more but then you pull away and you won’t say why. You want me to talk? Fine. I’m asking why. Am I just a game to you? Some rebound after Tyler? Because that’s what it feels like. And okay if that’s what you get off on, but I don’t do hot and cold. That’s not what I’m looking for and I’m not going to fall for it again.”
“Luke—”
“I’m driving you to Dublin because my mother asked me to,” he says. “That is why I’m doing you a favor but let me be clear. We are not friends. We haven’t been friends since we were eleven and I think the sooner we stop pretending we are, the better. Okay?”
“It’s not a game.”
“Whatever.”
“It’s not, Luke. I’m sorry for lying to you about Tyler. I’m not sorry for flirting with you. I was newly single, I’d lost my job, and I found and still do find you attractive, so yeah, I came on to you.”
“Just forget it.”
“No,” I say, holding a hand up. My coffee swirls dangerously in the cup but I save it just in time. “I told you the truth when I said I thought we could be friends, but I’ll be honest, I found that very hard to do because every time I saw you I got all fizzy inside.”
A strange expression crosses his face. “Fizzy?”
“I did want more,” I continue, starting to babble. “I thought, hey, the truth is out and I really like this guy and he seems to really like me and maybe there’s something here. Maybe I can make something good out of this whole mess, and then you’re all I can think about and all Iwantto think about, to the point where I’m not even applying for jobs some days, but then Beth starts talking and Louise and I are finally getting somewhere and—”
