Page 66 of The Rebound
I stay where I am, with a beach towel around my shoulders, as Beth unwraps the last sandwich, splitting it in half.
“We have to finish it,” she says. “I hate food waste.”
“As if I need a reason to eat bread,” I say. “And these are great. Are they from the café?”
“Kind of. Luke made them.”
“He did?”
She laughs. “You sound so surprised. He makes a lot of food for us. Even though I tell him he doesn’t have the time. I think it relaxes him. Plus who can resist my company?”
I smile as she bats her eyelashes. “You guys are pretty close, huh?”
“He was one of the first people I met when I moved here,” she says. “He’s a good friend.” The softness in her tone catches my attention and I follow her gaze across the fire to where Luke sits, shaking his head at something Rory said. My smile fades as I think back to all the times I saw them together, the playfulness and the back and forth that I thought was just who Beth is. But maybe it’s not.
“Is that all he is?” I ask. “A friend?”
“How do you mean?”
I tear a piece from my sandwich, but my appetite shrinks by the second. I can’t believe I hadn’t put two and two together. “Do you like him?”
Her eyes go wide. “No! No, God, it’s not like that at all.”
“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” I almost laugh as I sit back, more relieved than I have a right to be. “It just sounded like—”
“I mean, he’s my landlord,” she interrupts, her voice a little shrill. Sinead glances over at us and Beth’s eyes drop to her legs as she pretends to roll up the cuffs of her sweatpants. “And he doesn’t see me like that,” she whispers.
But she does. I start to feel a little sick.
“Don’t say anything to him,” she says, my silence making her panic. “It would ruin our friendship. I know it would.”
“Beth—”
“It’s just a little crush,” she continues. “It’s a small place and he’s a nice guy who’s gone out of his way to help me without expecting anything in return, even though, yeah, sometimes I wish he would, but it’s not like I’d ever—”
I squeeze her arm, cutting her off. “I won’t say anything.”
“Thanks.” She takes a breath, visibly calming herself. “Look at me, I’m blushing.”
“It’s the beer.”
“It’s the embarrassment.” She stuffs the final bit of her sandwich into her mouth, swallowing thickly. “I mean,” she says, around the bread. “Can you blame me?”
No. I can’t blame her at all. “So there’s nothing going on between you two?”
“No,” she says vehemently. “Nothing. I swear. Only in my fan fiction. That was a joke. I don’t write fan fiction. Well, I used to but—”
“Ladies?”
We both look up to see Rory standing before us. “You’re looking far too dressed for my liking.”
I’m about to ask how much he’s had to drink when Beth stands, whipping off her sweatshirt with unexpected enthusiasm. Behind Rory, Harry and Sean are doing the same.
“What the hell is going on?”
“It’s tradition.” Rory grins, pulling off his T-shirt. He nods to the ocean, where the sun is just beginning to disappear beneath the horizon, making the water look like it’s been set ablaze. But looks can be deceiving. I have no doubt it’s just as cold as before, if not more so.
“Come on,” Beth says. “While there’s still a bit of light.”
