Chapter 15 Abby
Abby
Flirting with Jonathan is fun. He’s such an easy target and honestly, he probably walks around with a boner more often than not. It’s gross. Someone should do a medical study. But teasing him? It’s the perfect distraction from the impending doom that is this retreat.
Part of me wants to tell him I didn’t lock the bedroom door. That he could’ve walked in at any time and seen me naked. But no, that might literally kill him.
When Tanya said “let’s meet at the beach,” I had no idea what that meant in upstate New York.
Sure, it’s summer and pushing eighty degrees, but this is still New York; weather can turn faster than my mood during PMS. I settle on cut-off jean shorts, flip-flops and an eyelet tank with my bikini underneath, just in case.
There’s also a huge heated pool and hot tub I wouldn’t mind checking out later.
Jonathan clearly got the memo as well. He’s in swim trunks and a white linen button-down. Except he forgot to actually button it. His annoyingly tight abs and taut chest are on full display, like a cologne ad that personally hates me.
“You want to walk?” he asks as I step outside.
I glance at the cart, then at the gravel road. “Sure. You can protect me from any bears.”
“I got you covered,” he lifts his arm, showing off his very obvious bicep muscles.
“Covered? Like your chest?” I fire back, as dry as toast.
He looks down, confused. “What’s wrong with my chest?”
“You forgot to button like the entire shirt,” I say, then immediately swallow because I just accidentally salivated.
“Too much for Tanya?” he jokes.
I laugh, because yeah, Tanya’s about to melt faster than an ice cream sandwich on asphalt.
“I think we should both show up with our chests out,” Jonathan says, tugging down his Ray-Bans to eye my breasts before shooting me a wink.
“Stop it,” I say, smacking his arm.
“Just a suggestion.” He shrugs.
For a few seconds, there’s this weird stretch of silence. Not awkward, not charged with the usual annoyance either. Just… calm and kind of nice.
“So tell me about your family,” I ask, mostly to fill the quiet. But the second it leaves my mouth, I regret it. His expression shifts, like I touched a bruise I didn’t know was there. “Sorry,” I blurt. “Way too personal.”
He takes a second. “My dad was the nicest man I knew,” he says finally. “Which is saying a lot, because I don’t know many nice men.” He lets out a small laugh. “He was tough. Kind when he needed to be. But mostly, tough.”
The gravel under our feet suddenly sounds louder, like the whole world wants to avoid the awkwardness that crept into the room.
“You keep saying was,” I say carefully. “Did he…?”
He bends down to pick something up before I can finish. A shell, it’s gorgeous and deep blue, like a tiny piece of the ocean.
“Yeah. Cancer,” he says, handing it to me. “This matches your eyes.”
I take it, stunned by the softness in his voice and we keep walking.
“You know, you’re kind too,” I say after a moment.
He laughs. “How?”
“Well, for starters, you’re fake-dating me so I can make my ex jealous,” I state, factually.
“I don’t like the guy. That part’s easy,” he quips.
“And you brought my favorite candy on the bus,” I add.
He leans closer, his voice low. “Hate to break it to you, but… it’s my favorite too.”
“What?” I ask, turning to look at him.
He nods, a little grin playing at his lips.
“We have something in common,” I say.
“We sure do,” he says, like there’s more he wants to say but won’t.
“Okay, I got it,” I press on, feigning innocence. “You’re going to let me sleep in the bed tonight while you take the couch.” I lower my sunglasses and toss him a wink.
He laughs. “Fair enough. You got me there,” he says, chucking a few pebbles into the grass beside the path.
Then, out of nowhere, “You know Marcus is an idiot for leaving you.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I say with a small smile. “But… thanks.”
He glances around, then adds, “You’re also kind of an idiot for not seeing the signs.”
And just like classic Jonathan, there it is. The pompous, rude comments, he so easily chutes out.
“Excuse me?” I snap, crossing my arms tight enough to crush a rib. “I should’ve known he was going to leave me at the altar?”
“Not necessarily” he starts.
I push my sunglasses up onto my head so he can get the full effect of my death glare. “Then what the hell do you mean?”
“Whoa.” His hands lift like he’s about to steady me, but I back away before he can touch me.
“AJ,” he says, his voice edged with something close to regret. “The guy’s a jerk. Anyone could see that.”
“Oh, and you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” I snap. “You’d recognize a jerk in the mirror every morning.”
“Listen,” he says, but I interrupt him.
“No. Forget it.” I wave him off like I’m swatting a fly. “Just when I was thinking you could actually be a normal, decent person for once.” I shake my head. “I take it back. You’re not kind. You suck.” I pick up my pace, stomping ahead.
He calls after me. “AJ, stop!”
But nope. Not happening. I charge forward and nearly collide with Elaine just as we reach the beach entrance.
The beachfront is really just a sandy patch that slopes into the lake.
A massive inflatable raft floats nearby, with people already launching themselves into the water.
There’s a dock, a rope swing, and the kind of serenity that would be great if I weren’t daydreaming about using that rope swing to strangle Jonathan with.
“Hey!” Tanya calls out, waving me over to a couple of blankets spread out with snacks, bottles of water and a Coke I’m definitely stealing. “Over here!”
I head toward her, walking along with Elaine, ignoring the footsteps behind me. At least someone brought snacks. Way more thoughtful than Jonathan right now.
I should’ve seen the signs. What the hell does that even mean?
So what, Marcus left me and it’s my fault?
Like I caused him to ghost me at the altar?
As if I could’ve prevented my own soul-crushing heartbreak?
Fuck. Off. Jonathan. I scream it in my head so loudly I swear my skull rattles.
God, I wish I had the guts to say it out loud.
Jonathan jogs up behind me, slightly out of breath. “AJ,” he says, then spots Elaine beside me. His posture straightens like someone yanked a string in his spine. “Oh. Hey, Elaine.”
“Heyyy,” she says back with a flirty little smile. “You okay, Jonathan?”
He places a hand to his chest like he’s checking his pulse. “Yeah. Just getting in a light jog.” Lie. “AJ and I were racing,” he adds, glancing at me. “She’s fast.”
Elaine gives me a confused once-over. “You’re not even out of breath.”
“Umm… well, I run marathons,” I say, way too casually. Total lie. I do enjoy cardio, but if I’d just sprinted like that, I’d be panting like a Golden Retriever in August.
She narrows her eyes slightly, shrugs and heads toward Tanya, who’s lounging on a blanket, chomping on an apple like Snow White on vacation. I start walking toward them.
“Wait, AJ…” Jonathan says, reaching for me.
I stop and spin around, getting way too close to his face. Close enough to count his freckles. “Let me remind you of one thing, Slack,” I growl, keeping my voice whispered so Tanya and Elaine don’t hear. I jab a finger at his chest, then at his forehead. “You don’t know me.”
He steps back, a little startled.
“You may think you do, but you have no clue who I am. What I’ve done. What I’ve been through. So get that through your thick, overconfident skull.” I give his forehead one final poke for emphasis.
He doesn’t say a word at first. Just looks at me. His eyes, bluer than I remembered, almost stormy grey now, flash with something that looks like sorrow. But with Jonathan, who knows? Could be acting. Could be real. I never know.
“AJ, I fucked up,” he says quietly. “I say stupid shit sometimes without thinking. But I know you’re not an idiot.
You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.
” His voice is sincere now. No jokes. No fake charm.
Just him, standing there with his hair wind-mussed and his shirt still open, looking like a damn Calvin Klein model at confession.
I don’t want to hear him out but watching him stumble through an apology is… oddly satisfying.
“Maybe Marcus did act differently with you,” Jonathan mutters. “Maybe he led you on. You’re right. I don’t know what happened. But I do know you’re too smart for a guy like that to have hurt you and I… I…” He trails off, hands half-lifted like his brain crashed mid-sentence.
“What?” I press.
“I just don’t want him to suck you back in,” he says finally. “I wanted to remind you of your worth.” He exhales hard, running both hands through his hair like he’s physically in pain. Drama king.
“You are terrible at apologizing,” I blurt out, chuckling.
He meets my eyes, like he’s searching for some thread of forgiveness. “I am. I really am,” he admits, winded like this was the emotional equivalent of running a marathon.
“And I keep forgetting you’re incapable of being around a woman for longer than an hour without saying something monumentally stupid,” I snap.
“I’m the idiot here. Trust me,” he says, palms up in surrender.
“Okay,” I say, arms crossed.
“So… are we okay?” he asks, looking like he’s about to beg.
I sigh, thinking about what Lila always tells me: Forgive people when you can. Don’t carry that weight. So fine. He said something dumb. He owned it. Let it go, Abby.
“Yes,” I say finally. “We’re fine.”
“Thank you,” he says, his hands landing lightly on my arms.
“What are you two lovebirds whispering about?” Tanya calls out across the beach.
We both turn as Elaine whips out her phone like a tabloid photographer. “Aww! Oh my God, stay right there, that’s going to be such a cute pic.”
She waves us closer. Jonathan flashes me a grin, slides an arm around my waist and pulls me in. His body is solid. Abs of steel. Damn it.
“Say cheese!” Elaine sings. The camera clicks.
“Okay, now a kissing one!” Tanya demands.
Jonathan immediately stiffens. “No, no, we don’t have to do that,” he says, already glancing at me… then down at my lips.
“It’s okay,” I say softly.
His eyes go brighter, full sky-blue now. He leans in, cups my face and kisses me.
I kiss him back. It starts soft, but there’s a spark, just enough tongue to blur the line between fake and maybe-not-so-fake. My hands find his torso, and I intuitively pull him closer.
“Yayyy!” Tanya yells.
We don’t stop.
“Okay, you two. Dang,” Elaine laughs. “I got the pic.”
I pull back from Jonathan’s kiss, breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my brain.
He looks stunned, like he didn’t really want to stop.
Like he was… savoring it. I also am stunned.
That kiss felt better than the last, if that’s even possible.
My fingers touch my lips as if they’ve been sparked.
Maybe my anger acted as some kind of emotional defibrillator, because my whole body feels electrically charged.
Jonathan lets out a laugh and turns to Tanya and Elaine. “Sorry, ladies. I can’t keep my hands off her.”
He laces his fingers through mine and leads us down to their picnic setup like we’re that couple, the one who giggles and cuddles and probably have a joint Instagram account.
Jonathan starts unpacking the beach bag he brought and to my surprise, pulls out the book I brought from home.
“Figured you’d want to get some reading in,” he says with that smile, half smug, half sweet.
“Thank you,” I say, taking it from him. Our fingers brush and his linger just long enough to tug gently at mine before letting go.
I stare at him for a second too long. Am I delusional… or is Jonathan Slack crushing on me? Worse… am I crushing on him? Ugh, maybe.