Page 4 of Single Girl in the City
“Who knows, it could be dress-up day. You are wearing a tie and lace-up shoes.” He reached out and tugged her oversized tie, then pinched her nose. It honked.
“Didn’t your mama tell you it’s rude to give someone a good honk?”
“So it was good for you too?”
She snorted. “I gotta go. I’m already late.”
“Then let me give you a lift.” There was no teasing or flirting in his tone, just deep concern. For her.
She’d had a lot of people expressing their concern after the crash. Heck, she was as concerned as they were. How was someone just supposed to pick up the pieces and move on? If Jenny were still alive, she’d tell Abi to put one foot in front of the other. And she’d do it with that bright, heal-the-world smile that Abi would forever miss in her life.
Not wanting to let Jenny down again, Abi started pedaling across the parking lot. Owen easily kept pace. Not surprising since she was moving at a snail’s pace.
She looked over her shoulder and the bike wobbled. “Stay in your lane,” she said. He slowed down so that he was directly behind her but didn’t stop. “Now you’re tailgating.”
“I must say, I like your tail.”
She stopped, put her feet on the concrete, and looked at him over her shoulder. He winked. She groaned. “What will it take for you to go on your way so I can go on mine?”
“Since we’re both going the same way, you’d save me the worry of wondering if you made it to your final destination in one piece.”
“I wouldn’t want toworryyou.” Although secretly she loved the idea that she got to him. “You could be a serial killer.”
“You’re the one dressed like the guy fromIt.”
Abi pulled a business card from her back pocket and handed it over. He read it and laughed out loud, throwing his head back and everything.Such a handsome prick.“CEO of Wishes by Abi.” She pointed to the subtitle “Professional Good Samaritan.”
“Yes, and right now I go by Winkie the Uni-Clown. Part unicorn, part clown. I do parties, weddings, and singing telegrams.”
“You sing?”
“Today I do,” she said, back to cycling slowly across the lot. Her big shoes were only partly to blame. Until last week, Abi hadn’t been on a bike since she was twelve. But it was faster than walking and less deadly than other forms of transportation. “Move before I call the cops and tell them a strange man wanted to pinch my nose.”
“So, you’re still going with the not knowing each other game, Tea Girl?”
She came to a hard stop. “Fine. Darjeeling oolong, loose-leaf tea, six ounces of water, 180 degrees, with a splash of soy. We may have crossed paths professionally.” He lifted a brow. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I don’t know. The condoms, memorizing my order.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his feet, clearly validated. “Is that barista for, ‘What’s your number?’”
“It’s barista for, ‘Your drink is lame.’ If you ask me, the splash of soy is an amateur move.”
As she attempted to leave, he reached for her handlebar, holding her in place. Or maybe it was his intense blue eyes that made her feet feel like she was pedaling through wet cement.
“Since we’ve ruled out serial killer and you know who I am, please let me give you a ride,” he said. “I can put your bike in the back of my truck and drop you off anywhere.”
“Anywhere?” she asked.
“Think of me as your own personal rideshare driver.” She steadied her bike and he backed away slightly, but she could tell he didn’t like it. “Come on, Abi, there’s no sidewalk and this is a highway.”
She was more than aware of that. Her heart had started thumping painfully in her chest the moment she locked eyes on the heavy traffic and endless line of headlights glowing in the mist. “Really, I’m—”
A bus blew past, the draft knocking her back a step. The smell of the exhaust and the sound of the gears downshifting took her breath away, until her lungs began to burn and her eyes began to water.
Shaken by the memory of the collision, she lost balance and went down to one knee, letting go of her bike in the process. It crashed against the ground, toppling the bottles of bubbly, the glass shattering on impact. The sound brought Abi right back to that day on the bus. Back to the nightmares she’d spent the past few months trying to get out of her head.
She gasped for air. Once, twice, but her lungs weren’t cooperating. Neither was her head. She reminded herself that she was safe, that she was on steady ground, and that if she didn’t get herself under control she would embarrass herself in front of the sexiest man alive. That was enough to break through the fear.
Too bad it was too late. She’d already lost her footing and she landed ass-backward in a puddle with teeth-jarring force.
