Page 32 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
“Really, I’m perfectly…” He swallowed. Bibi’s eyes, brimming with concern, locked onto his. “Not okay,” he whispered.
Bibi strode over to the door and threw the bolt, locking them in, and turned the Open sign to Closed.
“But… customers?”
“I don’t think 9:00am on Monday is peak business hours. Come on, I’ll fix us some coffee and we’ll have some of those awesome Tunnock’s Tea Cakes — do you think your mom could send some for me in your next care package? Then you can tell me what’s wrong. Or would you rather have a cup of your disgusting tea?”
Lucian laughed. It was hard not to when she looked as though she’d found a skunk making a home for itself in her underwear drawer.
“Coffee’s fine. But you really don’t have to listen to my drivel.” But even as he said it, the need to talk and offload tugged hard at him.
“Yes I do, because I can’t afford your sour face making all the flowers wilt. This isn’t an act of friendship, it’s purely a business decision.” Throwing him a wink, she strode into the little kitchen area at the back of the store, and Lucian trailed behind.
Settled at the tiny, dented metal table a few minutes later, Bibi didn’t waste time.
“So, what’s Arlo done, or said — or hasn’t done or said?”
Lucian’s jaws dropped, his shock at her words causing his cup of steaming hot coffee to slip between his hands. He clattered it onto the table before he dropped it.
“Arlo? Why…? How did you…?”
Bibi preened. “Am I right, or am I right?”
Lucian opened his mouth before clamping it shut again. How had she guessed?
Bibi sighed. “I’ve had enough man trouble to spot the signs in others,” she said, answering Lucian’s unvoiced question.
Lucian let his head flop into his hands. “I haven’t got man trouble because I haven’t got a man. Arlo or otherwise.”
“But something’s happened?”
What could he tell her without looking like a teenager brushed off by their first crush? It had been a kiss, that was all, and ill advised. It’d been stopped in its tracks before it developed. And that was a good thing, right? Wrong, because that kiss had tasted so good and had been like nothing he’d known before.
“You’ll think I’m a pathetic wuss…” He looked up at her through his lashes.
“Hey, don’t let me hear you say those things, because you’re neither. Okay?” Bibi squeezed his shoulder. Lucian wasn’t sure he agreed, but her words made him feel a little better. Taking a deep breath, it all came tumbling out.
Bibi’s beautifully groomed brows scrunched downwards, and she pursed her lips. She looked like she was sucking on a foul cough sweet, and Lucian smiled despite himself.
“He got scared,” she declared. “It ended badly with his last boyfriend—”
“I never told you that.” Lucian sat up, ramrod straight. If Arlo ever thought he’d been gossiping about him and Tony… What would he think of him? How would he look at him? A shudder raced down his spine and made him feel sick.
“You didn’t. This is a small town, and lots of folks have nothing better to do than talk about others’ business.” She coughed and shifted in her seat. “Francine isn’t as discreet as she should be, or not after a couple of cocktails. She’s dropped some pretty big hints about Arlo’s last relationship hitting the rocks in a big way. And I don’t think it was the first.”
Lucian blinked. “He never mentioned any other—”
“Why would he?”
Why indeed?
“According to Francine which, of course, is according to Hank, and which comes from Arlo himself, he’s steering clear of involvement — even if Francine and her endless matchmaking think otherwise.”
“It was only a kiss.” Then why did it feel like so much more…?
“Maybe it wasn’t, not to him. Maybe not to you, either. And, just maybe, he knew that and it’s spooked him. I don’t know all the details of what happened when he was in New York, but I’ve been around enough to read between the lines. Francine wasn’t that indiscreet. My guess is that he got hurt pretty bad. Hurt enough to pull back and retreat to safer ground. This is the first time I’ve heard anything about him taking any interest in another guy. The problem, and no doubt he realized it, is that you’re not a good bet for him.”
“Wh—what do you mean by that?”
