Chapter Eight #2
He lapses into silence again, staring out at the rain, which is growing steadily heavier. He looks pale, she thinks, as well as tired.
‘You’re not hurt, are you?’ He looks back at her. ‘From the accident, I mean,’ she elaborates.
He raises one eyebrow. ‘Why, wondering if you can put all that medical knowledge to good use?’
She’ll take that as a no, then. She makes a scathing noise at the back of her throat. ‘Tch. I’m sure you have something you’re embarrassingly knowledgeable about.’
‘Oh, I have plenty to be embarrassed about.’ The way he says it, voice low, makes her wonder just what he’s talking about. ‘Not sure I’d consider myself knowledgeable about any of it.’
Another beat of quiet. She wonders if it’s her – does he just not want to talk to her? He seemed so chatty the last few times they met. Something in her stomach twists uncomfortably.
‘Do you have a thing, then?’ she presses.
‘A thing?’
The way he says it makes her splutter with laughter. ‘A pub quiz thing. Like what would be your ideal round.’
‘Hmm …’ The sound he makes when thinking is a little rough, a little raspy. ‘Does Guess the Intro count?’
She taps a finger against the steering wheel as they wind down the country road. ‘Is that where you have to work out what song it is from just the beginning of it?’
‘That’s the one.’
She nods thoughtfully, then uses the buttons on her steering wheel to switch on the last song that was playing through Bluetooth.
‘“Tilted”,’ Ash announces almost immediately. ‘Christine and the Queens. An oldie but a goodie.’
Lissa glances at him. ‘Lucky guess.’ And only on her Spotify playlist because she’d been looking up French music, trying to understand where this recent Paris obsession had come from. She skips to the next song.
‘Shakira,’ he says confidently as it starts to play.
‘I’m not sure you need me to expand on that, all things considered.
’ And he’s right – if someone didn’t know this song, she’d wonder what was wrong with them.
He slides his gaze over to her. ‘I’m wondering, though, if we need to introduce you to some modern music, Lissa? ’
She laughs, even as the ‘we’, as well as the playful tone, is doing something interesting to her insides. ‘I’ll get right on that. And that’s a fun pub quiz skill.’
He shrugs. ‘I like music.’ He turns to look out the window. ‘I also like libraries.’
As he’s looking away from her, she’s not sure she heard him right. ‘Huh?’
‘Libraries. That would be my second choice in pub quiz rounds.’
‘Libraries?’
‘You sound surprised.’ She can hear the smile in his voice.
‘Well, sure. I mean, that would be the surprise.’
He grins then, turning in his seat. ‘You don’t believe me?’
‘Well I don’t think you’re lying, because it’s a weird thing to lie about, but I didn’t have you pegged as a library sort of guy.’
‘Oh? What kind of guy did you have me pegged as, exactly?’
‘Not sure.’ She taps the steering wheel again. ‘Maybe the kind who roams around on his motorbike and likes to drink whisky and could beat anyone at Risk and probably can name every capital city in the world and possibly has a tattoo just because why not.’
He nods slowly. ‘That’s quite detailed.’
And totally random, Lissa. But Ash is still smiling. She notices the way one corner of his mouth lifts higher than the other, and that, she thinks, gives it away as a real smile.
‘I do have a motorbike.’
‘I know,’ she says before she can stop herself.
His eyebrows shoot up and she realises she sounds like a stalker. Coupled with the fact that she showed up to save him moments ago – not a great look.
‘I saw the helmet underneath the table at the pub quiz,’ she explains.
‘Aha.’
‘Let me guess, you like the thrill of it?’
‘That, and it’s easier to get through traffic.’
‘But you rented a car,’ she points out.
‘Easier from the airport. Plus harder to rent motorbikes in general. I take it from your disapproving expression,’ he continues after a beat, ‘that you don’t like motorbikes?’
‘I’m not disapproving,’ she says quickly, trying to even out her expression. Poker, she thinks, would not be her game. ‘Just easier to get into accidents, that’s all.’ And it is better, isn’t it, to play safe? Given how easily things can go wrong, how easy it is to get hurt.
He gives her a look that she can’t quite read.
‘So,’ she says, working up her bright tone. ‘Libraries.’
‘I like books,’ he says with a shrug. ‘And because I move around a bit, I don’t like to buy them. So – libraries.’
She nods, taking that in.
‘And you?’ She glances at him. ‘I mean, I know you have the whole medical encyclopedia thing going on, but what would be your second choice of quiz topics?’ He’s watching her with interest now. It makes her wonder if he offered the library intel just so he could ask her the same question in return.
‘Art,’ she says after a moment. ‘I like art.’ And thankfully they don’t have to drill too much more into the topic of herself, because according to the sat nav, they’ve arrived. ‘Where should I drop you?’
‘Anywhere on this road is fine,’ Ash says, already undoing his seat belt. She pulls over next to the kerb. It’s a very suburban area, all neatly mowed lawns with two-car driveways.
He turns to her before he gets out. Without the distraction of driving, she’s not quite sure where to look.
‘Thank you, Lissa,’ he says, his voice soft. ‘This was really kind of you.’
‘No problem.’ Her voice, in comparison, is the overly bright one she hates. ‘Like Mark said, I was in the area.’ It feels odd saying Mark’s name. Almost like she’d forgotten, if only for a second, that he’s the reason she’s here in the first place. Another great sign.
‘Well,’ Ash hedges, ‘I’ll see you?’
Her gaze darts to his, then away again. ‘Yep.’ She wonders if she will. Maybe, she reasons. For someone who said he’s not in Bath much, he does seem to be here a lot.
He reaches for the door handle, but still doesn’t open it.
It’s like he’s not quite sure how to end this.
They don’t know each other well enough to hug, do they?
He makes the decision, reaching out and placing a hand on her arm instead.
His hand is cool and it sends goosebumps up her warm arm.
His mouth creases at the corners, and she thinks he looks just a little less tired than when she picked him up. ‘Bye, Lissa.’
And with that, he opens the door and steps out into the night, leaving behind the scent of sandalwood and grass. A scent, she feels sure, that will linger.