Chapter 9
that way - Tate McRae
A
bby hated golf.
It was boring, and she wasn’t any good at it, which never aided her enjoyment of anything. The only amusement she found was watching Erik pretend to lose to her, as if it wasn’t hopelessly obvious that he was well out of her league. That said, despite his natural inclination towards anything athletic, he couldn’t stand the game either, and she suspected he derived his own fun from his pretense.
She also enjoyed the clothes.
Today’s outfit was a navy golf dress that had been loose when she’d last worn it at eighteen. Now, it skimmed over her curves, cinching in at her waist and stretching over her hips. It made it almost worth traipsing around carrying a bag of sticks.
When they returned to the green after brunch, Abby suggested she stay on the cart, conserving her energy to drive her group between holes. She had a book on her phone to keep herself entertained. Erik merely chuckled and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her effortlessly off the leather seat—who had decided that was a good idea for a pastime traditionally enjoyed in the summer sun?
‘If I have to endure this, so do you,’ he muttered into her ear, breath grazing her neck. The heat brought memories of the night before flooding back. Thoughts of his solid body crowding her in front of her door, chest heaving with ragged breaths. It destroyed her focus enough that even Erik’s best attempts at letting her beat him failed.
‘Distracted, Sunshine?’ he asked with a smirk as they returned to their rooms.
Her tired, sunsoaked brain couldn’t think of a retort, and she took the decidedly more mature response of sticking her tongue out instead. She heard Erik’s laughter echo through his room as she turned on the shower.
Dinner was early, to accommodate their parents’ sunset game of lawn bowls.
‘Are you two sure you don’t want to join us?’ Nora asked as they left the dining room.
Abby exchanged a loaded look with Erik. Barely concealed horror covered his face.
‘Thanks mum, but as it’s no longer the fourteenth century, I think we’ll amuse ourselves.’
Nora frowned at his tone in mock reproach before stretching to kiss her son on the cheek and following the rest of her quartet to the lobby.
Erik slung an arm around Abby’s shoulders, turning her towards him. ‘A whole parent-free evening. What ever shall we do with all this freedom?’ he asked.
The barely touched document on her laptop floated to the front of her mind and Abby sighed, thinking of how little alone time she would get in the next few days.
‘Does it make me tremendously boring if I say I have to work? I have a meeting with my thesis adviser at the end of next week and I’ve made almost no progress.’
‘Want company?’ He began steering her towards the lifts.
Abby smiled brightly. ‘Love some.’
They sat in comfortable silence for the next hour, not unlike the countless times they’d studied and done homework together as kids, books and papers strewn across Erik’s dining room table. Even when their focuses had largely diverged for their A-levels, they’d always preferred to work quietly together, having the other there to hold them accountable.
Abby was propped neatly against her headboard, tapping away on her laptop and flipping between two romance novels. Erik faced her, sprawled against a mound of pillows, reading his Christmas present. Intense focus lined his face. Barely a hundred pages in, a concentrated frown bunched his forehead, and she knew he would be committing every moment to memory.
Since Erik had started travelling, he’d mainly switched to reading on his tablet. But he still insisted on experiencing the action and magic of that particular series through a physical book. Abby had sat through a mind-numbing book launch before queuing for two hours to get his copy signed. It had all suddenly felt worth it for the way Erik’s eyes had lit up when he unwrapped it. The slackening of his jaw as he’d taken in the personalised dedication.
The author had lifted an eyebrow upon reading the name on the sticky note inside the book.
‘Your boyfriend couldn’t make it?’
‘He’s working abroad. And just a friend,’ she said quickly.
His lips tilted up under his bushy grey beard, taking in the light blush she could feel staining her cheeks and cocking his head past her to look at the still lengthy queue. ‘Sure he is. Do me a favour. When you give this to him, ask him to tell you how book fourteen ends. Ask him why he loves the series so much. And then ask yourself why you’ve spent three hours of your life doing something just to make him smile.’
The signing made her an hour late for her date night with Sam. She hadn’t texted, too busy googling a spoiler guide to the series as she took the tube to his flat.
Erik had always said that his love of the books came from their captivating stories and compelling characters. He had been swept away by the thrilling tale from the very first book, when the hero ran away from the small village he had grown up in, taking with him the only thing that really mattered: his childhood best friend. An Internet forum told her that as the characters grew older and continued on their adventures, childish banter and shy attraction turned to outright flirting and searing glances, before the tension exploded spectacularly into a deep kiss at the end of the penultimate book.
She couldn't bring herself to read any further into that and whether it might have any bearing on Erik's devotion to the story.
Sam was worried when she arrived late, and his slight annoyance upon noticing the bag from the bookstore faded into tired resignation when he saw the book, knowing there was only one person she'd be buying it for.
After catching up on their respective weeks, they ate dinner mostly in silence. The quiet wore on Abby as she turned the author's words in her head, and when she looked up at Sam’s kind, soft face, staring out the window, she realised what on some level she'd known for too long: she couldn't keep doing this to him. His sweet, gentle soul deserved so much better than her. No matter how much she cared for him, she couldn't love him the way he should be loved.
‘Sam?’
He turned his head to her, eyes sad. ‘This isn't working, is it?’
‘I'm sorry.’ Tears were already pricking at her eyes. ‘I really care about you—’
‘You don't have to explain. I've been expecting this for a while.’ Any confusion she might have had at that statement vanished when Sam’s eyes flickered back towards the offending bookstore bag.
She'd been expecting this for a while, having half anticipated the day her friendship with Erik would drive a wedge into this relationship since Sam had asked her out three years before. No one had ever really understood her connection with Erik, the one that had developed so naturally from birth. And trying to explain that they affected stronger boundaries when one or both of them was seeing someone only seemed to prove to people that there was something more between them.
‘This has felt inevitable since his birthday. I just wasn't ready to do it myself.’
‘His birthday?’ Abby asked quietly. ‘You couldn't make it. You were working late.’
‘I was. And I escaped my last meeting early because I knew it was important to you. Then I walked into that restaurant and saw the two of you together. At a table of twenty people, you were in this quiet little bubble. Heads bent close, staring at each other like you were the only ones left in the world.’ Sam shook his head. ‘I know Erik is important to you. I’d accepted that he was always going to be part of our lives. He's your best friend, right? I guess I was just hoping that somewhere along the line, I'd get to claim that title. But I can't keep deluding myself that one day I'll take first place. You're always going to choose him, Abby. And that's fine. But then you need to choose him.’
She couldn't. Erik didn't want that. That wasn't what they were. But Sam was right about one thing: her history with Erik would always make him her number one priority. And the wonderful man in front of her deserved better than the half a heart she could give him. He didn't need to waste any more of himself on a relationship going nowhere because she enjoyed his company and didn't want to be alone. So she didn't fight his words, merely nodded as a few tears leaked from her eyes.
‘I never wanted to hurt you, Sam,’ she whispered. ‘For what it's worth, I really did love you.’ It was true. She might never be able to love him enough, or in the right way, but it was impossible not to love him. Not to be swept away by his caring gestures and open heart.
‘I believe you.’ His voice was gentler than she deserved. Shouting might have been easier to deal with. He continued with a sad smile, ‘But you'll never look at me the way you look at him. And I—I deserve someone who will. I guess I've just been biding my time until you woke up and realised you're the sun he orbits around. Because somehow you're too blind to see it, even though he literally tells you that's what you are to him. Over and over and over.’
Although she had always half assumed Sam would break up with her one day, Abby hadn't given much thought to how it would happen. Hadn't expected so much to come out. Sam wasn't closed off, but he was generally quiet, leaving her to be the chatterbox that motored their conversations. He thought before he spoke and gave calm, considered responses. The speed and fullness of his confessions told her they had been a long time coming. And if this was what he needed for closure, she could give him the space to say his piece. He deserved that much.
‘You know I went ring shopping a little while back?’ Sam huffed out a short laugh.
She hadn't. Hadn't even considered that he was there, when she was so far from that step. Which about summed up the problem with them, didn't it?
‘I tried seven jewellery shops. New, vintage, high street, small boutiques. Nothing seemed to quite fit you. How's that for a metaphor?’
Her tears were flowing freely now, as Sam traced his finger over the patterns on the tablecloth.
‘You're going to find someone so good for you, Sam. Someone who treats you better than I ever could have.’
Sam had nodded and announced he would call her an Uber. They had exchanged spare keys, returning them to their rightful owners, and just before he shut the door behind her, closing the book on their chapter, Sam had said one last thing, something that had haunted her since.
‘Abby? Don't do this to someone else.’
‘You okay?’
Erik’s voice broke through her memories, his socked foot poking her thigh as his eyes narrowed in concern.
‘Yeah, yes, fine,’ Abby said quickly. ‘Just got really engrossed in this scene.’
‘You haven’t turned the page in a solid five minutes,’ he said, arching an eyebrow. ‘So either you’re lying or you’re really into that scene.’ He reached over and plucked the book from her fingers.
Abby flushed. She hadn’t been reading, but she’d read that book well enough to know exactly what he’d find on that page.
‘Shit, Abby,’ Erik said with a smirk. ‘This is what you’re into?’
‘Oh, shut up,’ she snapped, trying to keep every shred of embarrassment out of her voice. ‘I have to read a wide spread of romances to ensure my research accurately reflects the vastness of the genre.’
‘Well, something sure is widespread.’ His smirk widened as he glanced back down at the page and cleared his throat. ‘“All the blood in his body shot downwards as he tapped his thick, erect c—”’
‘Can we do literally anything else?’ That warmth was spreading to her neck and chest.
It was just from embarrassment.
Mostly.
And definitely not at all because she was imagining Erik’s rich voice reading the rest of that scene, where the billionaire playboy fantasised about tying his pretty little assistant to his bed and—
‘Really, Abigail. Consuming pornography on Good Friday?’ Erik tutted. ‘When you should be abstaining from all sexual thoughts?’
If that was the case, he was going to need to get further away from her. Because sitting on her bed, hair a mess, in a fitted white t-shirt, talking about the filth in the book he was holding, was not a sight likely to inspire purity of the mind.
Thankfully, she’d always paid attention in Religious Education.
‘That’s not a real rule and you know it,’ Abby said, rolling her eyes to break the decidedly more real tension building in her stomach. ‘Besides, I just watched you demolish a slice of beef lasagna and wash it down with two glasses of wine, so are you sure you want to talk about which one of us isn’t following the rules?’
‘Oh, I’m very good at following rules, Sunshine.’ His voice dropped even lower. ‘But sometimes it’s worth it to break them.’
Heat continued to flood Abby’s body. She knew her gauge for normal friend behaviour was off where Erik was concerned, but this…this was flirting. Right? She wasn’t imagining it. She couldn’t be.
Erik smirked again. ‘You wanted to do something else? I have an idea.’