Chapter 15
My body stays cold despite the heat of the car, and I don’t so much shiver as I do shudder every few seconds. Chilled to the bone is what my mother would say, my toes tingling almost painfully as the warmth seeps back into them.
I tie my damp hair back as best I can and hold up my fingers, clenching and unclenching as the blood works its way through them.
“You okay?” Luke asks as I watch them turn a mottled red and purple.
“Cold hands, remember? I have terrible circulation.”
“You should have said something.”
“I didn’t even realize,” I say truthfully as he turns the heater up further. “Thanks.”
He shrugs, concentrating on the road, which gives me plenty of time to watch him.
It’s hard to believe the last time I was sitting here I thought he was a stranger.
A sexy, godlike stranger. Now he’s a sexy, godlike Luke.
And it’s so confusing I can’t even begin to explain it to myself.
It doesn’t help that his car feels smaller, more cramped than last time.
Probably because of all the picnic stuff in the back.
Probably because we’re both cold and wet.
He’s different too. More serious for one.
There’s no joking this time, no teasing or smiling.
Maybe he’s just full of angst. Maybe he’s thinking about me in the water like I’m thinking about him.
Maybe he can’t stop thinking about me and he’s two seconds away from pulling over and—
“So how often does Sean come back to visit?” I ask, before my fantasy can go any further.
“All the time.” He responds immediately, like he’d been waiting for me to say something. “He and Harry have a place in Galway.”
“Oh great.”
“He designs video games.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah. Do you play?”
“Me? No. I never had the time. Do you?”
He shakes his head.
Silence.
The heat is blaring in the car now and I shrug out of my coat, pressing my fingers against the vent until I can move them freely again.
Luke shifts in his seat, not saying anything, but something in his expression catches my attention.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Is there a service station around here?”
“You’re asking me?” I frown, trying to remember the journey down. “Not for another twenty minutes.”
“No problem.”
I glance at the dashboard. We still have half a tank of gas. “Do you want some water? I’ve still got a bottle of—”
“No,” Luke says quickly. “I’m grand, thanks.”
And suddenly the pinched expression on his face makes sense.
I bite my lip, trying not to smile. “Luke Bailey, do you need to go to the bathroom?”
He doesn’t answer for a long second. And then: “It’s fine.”
“Oh my God.”
“I can hold it.”
“Luke, it’s another forty minutes back before we get back. Just pull over.” A pained look crosses his face and this time I can’t help but laugh. “I promise I won’t look.”
And it must be bad because, though his embarrassment is clear, he slows down, stopping by the side of a hedgerow.
“One second,” he mutters before he disappears into the darkness of the bushes.
I get a burst of affection for him and I relax back into the seat, feeling better.
Feeling a lot better in fact. This is the best day I’ve had in years.
Out on the water, seeing Rory again, spending time with people who don’t just talk about work and numbers and money.
I turn down the heat as I keep my eyes on the spot where Luke vanished.
It’s barely a minute before he reappears, studiously avoiding my gaze.
“Better?” I ask when he gets back in.
He only nods as he shuts the door, rooting around the glove department.
“Wet wipes,” he mutters, producing a small plastic packet.
“How romantic.”
Luke hesitates for only a second but it’s enough to make me wish I never said it as the expression on his face changes to careful indifference.
Romantic .
I turn to the road, annoyed with myself as he shoves the packet down the side of the seat. Outside it starts to rain, a light but steady patter on the windshield. Neither of us speak.
Is this what it’s going to be like? Freaking out over every slip of the tongue? Constantly guarding what I say while we tiptoe around because neither of us knows where the other stands? What mood we’re both in?
It’s exhausting.
Luke turns the wipers on but otherwise doesn’t move, leaving the car to idle.
“Abby—”
“Do you know what happened on my first day at MacFarlane?” I ask abruptly.
Luke shakes his head.
“I got on the wrong subway. Like an-hour-late-to-orientation wrong. My apartment was only a couple of blocks from the office, but I’d bought these cheap heels that I couldn’t walk in and I didn’t know if there would be a place to change into them once I got there, so I thought I’d get the subway and save my toes. An hour late.”
“Not a good first day.”
“Not a good year ,” I say. “I thought about quitting every week those first few months. It’s not like they don’t tell you what it’s going to be like.
All you ever hear about is the hours you’ll need to work and the pressure you’ll be under but experiencing it is next level.
Just…” I twist in my seat to face him again, needing him to understand.
“What you said about being a step behind? I get it. Everyone worth anything thinks they’re too old or too young or too whatever at some point but they’re not.
You’re not. You shouldn’t doubt yourself like that. ”
“Yeah?”
“ Yes . I mean, I couldn’t do it. Starting something new now? Trying to figure out what else I want to do with my life? If you found what you want then you need to go for it. Both hands. Full throttle. Similar saying.”
He grins at the last bit, tilting his head back against the seat. “An hour late?”
“I almost threw up in the ladies’ room, I was so scared.” I gesture at my face. “Sweat everywhere.”
“If it helps, you looked very impressive whenever I pictured you in New York. No sweat. Just you walking around a skyscraper. Usually in a power suit.”
“A power suit?”
“For some reason it was always the eighties in my head.”
I laugh. “Thought about me a lot, did you?”
I mean it as a joke but he just nods. “I used to.”
“You did?”
“Sure I did.”
He used to have that silly little crush on you.
Louise’s words from Easter echo through my mind as my heart gives an uncomfortable thump and it’s at that moment the automatic light switches off overhead.
The headlights are still on though, only heightening the darkness on either side.
It’s the kind of night you never get in the city, even with the expensive blackout blinds Tyler had.
It should be spooky, a little scary. But I don’t feel scared.
“Why weren’t we friends?” I ask.
“What?”
“When we were younger. Not when we were kids but when we got older. We lived next door to each other but we weren’t friends.”
“We were very different,” he says like it’s nothing. “You were this scarily focused, confident cool kid—”
“There are no cool kids in Clonard,” I interrupt.
“True. But you were as close as we were going to get.”
“I’ll accept that.”
“That was you,” he continues. “And me… I was quiet, painfully shy, a late bloomer—”
“Come on.”
“Hey, you grew at a normal pace. You don’t understand what it’s like to look like you’re twelve until your late teens. I took it very personally. Real sullen, ‘life isn’t fair’ stuff. I kept a journal.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. A little black diary.”
“I would pay good money to read that.”
“Then I’m glad you don’t have any. I think I burned it anyway. Or threw it into the ocean in some dramatic gesture.” He glances at me, some of the humor fading from his face. “We were just different people.”
“Well, I’m glad we’re friends now.”
“Me too.”
We watch each other as the rain falls heavier around us.
You’d think it would set a mood, but no, it’s just loud, almost violent as it hits the metal of the car.
It’s so loud I can’t hear my own thoughts.
Which is fortunate seeing as I don’t have any.
Just Luke. Just now. He has a way of doing that.
Of making me forget about everything else.
“There are different types of friends,” he says finally.
I don’t even dare to breathe.
“I know you just got out of a relationship,” he continues. “And I know you’re probably not looking for anything right now, but if you want to…”
“I mean if you want to,” I say.
The corner of his mouth twitches into an almost smile. “I want to.”
I don’t move, uncharacteristically nervous. But Luke doesn’t look nervous at all. He looks very sure of himself sitting there, as if he knows exactly how I feel, exactly the effect he has on me. And for some reason, that makes it so much easier. Knowing I have nothing to hide.
When I don’t respond he starts to lean toward me, but I sit back, undoing my seat belt, and before he can stop me, I climb over the gear shift, straddling him.
If he’s surprised by my boldness, he doesn’t show it, only pushes the seat back to make room for me. It isn’t exactly the most comfortable of positions but it does bring me closer to him, which is all I want really.
“I feel like you’re going to set the horn off,” he says.
“Is that a euphemism?”
He laughs and I like the sound of it so much that I almost feel bad when I stop it by kissing him.
It’s innocent at first, gentle and slow. He tastes like marshmallows and he smells like the bonfire and his body is so warm, I melt into him. Our mouths move together, uncertain at first and then surer as we learn the other, both of us growing in confidence until my heart starts to pound.
It occurs to me only then how I must look, dressed in my sister’s ill-fitting clothing, probably stinking of sweat and seawater. With Tyler I always made an effort with my appearance, but now I don’t care. And Luke doesn’t seem to either, matching my enthusiasm as he pulls me closer.
And I try to keep my cool, I swear I do, but the way his fingers trail up and down my arms is very disconcerting and when his tongue runs along my lips, coaxing them open, it’s like sparks are shooting through my veins.
My thighs tighten instinctively around him as a heavy, heady want pools low in my stomach.
I start to move, I need to move, but his hands squeeze my hips, keeping me in place, even as he presses more firmly against me.
As he does, a needy desperation rises inside and I rock harder against him, hard enough that he groans and when he does, I do it again, showing him what I want.
He takes the hint.
I hum approvingly as he deepens the kiss, and slip my hands under his sweatshirt only for him to jolt at my touch.
Cold hands. I start to withdraw, but he moves quickly, holding my palm to his chest as though to keep me there, and I wonder if maybe it’s not the cold that made him react.
If maybe he’s just as affected by my touch as I am by his.
My thoughts scramble and I barely register his fingers traveling upward, not until he cups my breasts, brushing my nipples through my bra.
He does it again, massaging me before a gentle pinch makes me gasp so loud that I have no choice but to break away, dropping my forehead to his shoulder.
His lips move to my jaw and down my neck as I peer into the back seat for a more comfortable space before I actually do set off the horn. And that’s when I see it.
Beth’s picnic basket placed neatly on top of her towel.
Beth.
Her face flashes through my mind. Her kind words. Her earnest smile.
And I suddenly realize what I’m doing.
What I’m doing to her even if she denies it. Even if I...
“Luke.”
He doesn’t hear me, his hands moving around my back, reaching for the clasp of my bra. I sit up before he can get to it, breaking his hold as he blinks, trying to focus on me. “What’s wrong?”
Nothing. Everything.
Just the sight of him makes me want to pull him closer again.
His lips swollen, the expression on his face so adorably confused.
But I don’t. I can’t. Not with Beth hung up on him.
Not when she’s been so nice to me. Even if there’s nothing between them, I can’t .
And I open my mouth to explain just that when I remember what I promised.
That I wouldn’t share her secret.
“Abby?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Are you okay?” His brow creases in concern and he drops his arms completely away from me, as though trying to give me space. “I’m sorry. We can just—”
“No,” I interrupt. “I mean we can’t do this. This is a mistake.”
“I don’t… a mistake?” His frown deepens as my words register. “Are you serious?”
I don’t answer, desperately trying to think of the right thing to say.
“You’re serious. You—” He breaks off, lips pressed into a thin line. “Could you move?”
I hadn’t realized I was still clutching him to me. I immediately let go and start climbing off, only for Luke to grunt when my knee lands somewhere it really, really shouldn’t have.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“No,” he chokes out.
“Oh my God. Let me—”
“Could you just get off me?”
“Right. Right. I’m sorry.” I scramble over to my side of the car and think briefly about continuing straight through the door and disappearing into the fields never to be seen again but settle for keeping as far away from him as I can.
I’m pretty sure it’s what he wants anyway going by how he is resolutely not looking at me at all, but instead, turned toward the opposite window as he covers himself with one hand.
My body feels cold without him against me, my breath erratic no matter how much I try to steady it.
Eventually, he turns back around. “You’re the one who started—”
“I know.”
His jaw is tight. “Could you just tell me… are you…”
He thinks I’m a tease. Worse. He thinks I’m playing with him, deliberately. He thinks I’m a liar. First Tyler and now this.
“It was a mistake,” I say, the words a whisper as I think of Beth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“The kiss or the injury?”
“Both.”
Something almost like hurt flashes flickers in his eyes and for a second I see it, the boy I once knew. The little kid on the playground. But it’s blink and you’ll miss it, vanishing as quickly as it came.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment and then he nods, turning the ignition, and I know I need to say something, to make this right but I don’t know how to without betraying Beth.
He doesn’t speak to me again. He doesn’t even look at me and the next thirty minutes are driven in utter, miserable silence as he brings me home.