Page 19 of Insta-Love

“She was just skating out the front of the house,” I murmur. “I didn’t think she could get hurt this bad. How did she do it?”

He gently eases the strap of my bag off my arm and guides me by an elbow to a seat. “She said her board tripped up and stopped dead, and when she shot her foot forward to save falling, it caught on the lip of the path where it meets the grass.” He sets my bag down at my feet as I sit. “I thought she’d sprained it at first too, but she didn’t want to move at all.”

I can feel the colour drain from my face. “How long was she hurt before you came to get me?”

“Not that long.” His reassurance is empty—I don’t believe him. “Ava. Don’t dwell on it, okay?”

I sigh and run a hand through my knotty hair, wriggling my fingers to get them free when they tangle in the ends. “If I can’t stop her from getting hurt, I’m supposed to at least be there when she does.”

“You can’t watch her every second of the day.” He sighs and drops onto the seat beside mine. “It wasn’t fair of me to say what I did when I came to let you know.”

“What’s done is done, right?” I could agree, say that he should think before he speaks next time, but why? I’m too tired to argue.

His large hands fidget with the creases in his jeans before he asks, “Have you ever broken a bone before?”

I shake my head. “Managed to miss that childhood milestone.”

“It’s not that bad after the initial break. The cast goes on and you spend weeks trying to find the best way to itch inside it when the skin dries out. It’s more a nuisance than anything else.”

“Thank you.”

He lifts his head to look in my eyes as he frowns. “What for?”

“The ride, staying, and saying what you have to make me feel better about missing out on the mother of the year award.” I laugh awkwardly. “For doing all that despite the fact we didn’t exactly start out on the best foot.”

He shrugs, a slight colour in his cheeks. “It’s what neighbours do, right?”

My phone rings, breaking the moment.

“I thought you’re supposed to have those switched off in hospitals?” he says with a wink.

I roll my eyes and answer the call. “Hey, Mum.”

“Where are you?”

“Waiting for Lily to get her x-rays.” I eye Bowen as he rises and walks over to a rack of brochures on the far wall.

“Your father’s going to head over and find a park. He’ll text you when he gets there so you can let him know where you need to be picked up from.”

“It’s okay. Mum. Tell Dad not to worry. We’ve got it under control.” Bowen glances over his shoulder at my use of the word ‘we’. “I’ll let you know when we’re on our way home.”

“Honey, you can’t afford the taxi. Don’t be silly. Dad can come get you.”

“I’ve got it sorted,” I assure her. “I’ve got enough cash to get us home.” For some reason I don’t want to tell her the truth, about who’s here with us. If I do, I know she’ll make a million assumptions before there’s any reason to about where this may or may not lead. It’s just a ride. “Get Dad a beer before the second half of the game starts, hey?”

She chuckles. “He’s got that sorted already.”

“We’ll be home soon hopefully. I’ll message if anything changes.”

“Give Lily a kiss from us.”

“I will.”

Bowen watches me, hands in his pockets, which does nothing but pull his jeans taut across the span of his hips. I look away to my purse, flushed from the glimpse of what the tight denim alluded to underneath.

“Why do you live with your parents?” he asks.

Straight to the point, huh? “I don’t have much choice.”

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