Page 28 of Insta-Love

THIRTEEN

Ava

Get in the house and put distance between you.

My hands have gone half numb from being jammed between my legs for so long, but it seemed better than sitting in the passenger seat of his Jeep as though I actually want to be here.

God—what the hell did I get myself in for, accepting his help? I’m leaning towards the spending money on an ambulance having been the better option after all.

“Thank you for the ride.” I gather my bag from my feet as he pulls in his driveway, and prepare to get out of the vehicle the second the damn thing has stopped rolling.

He slams it into neutral and yanks the brake on before killing the engine. “If you need to go back in the morning—”

“I’ll use my parents’ car.”

“Ava …” He frowns, focus on the steering wheel.

“Honestly. You did more than you had to. I appreciate the assistance.” My hand falls on the door handle, yet his weighs heavy on my knee.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” I grit the words out, taunted by the shadowed grey of the driveway out my window.

“Just stop.” He withdraws his hand, the words whispered between us.

What on earth do I do with this guy? Against my better judgment, I ease back in the seat to look at him.

His tongue peeks out to wet his lips while he stares at that steering wheel as though he could murder it.

“I get that something about me pisses you off, Bowen, and that, I’m assuming, it has more to do with you than me.”

He opens his mouth to speak, yet I hold out my hand to stop him.

“But I’ve got my own issues to deal with, and having men treat me like a piece of shit is one of those.”

He lifts his head, eyes hard, yet somewhat curious as he looks at me.

“Lily’s dad …” I hesitate, pulling a deep breath. “He wasn’t the nicest guy, and yes that’s made me a little untrusting. But being accused of caring too much?” I shake my head. “That really pisses me off. There are worse things in this world than having somebody love you too much. Way worse.”

I reach out and pull the handle, dropping my legs from the Jeep before he stalls me with his words.

“Trust me—I know.”

I could carry this conversation on, dig a little deeper. But at the end of the day, why? Before today, we were veritable strangers. If he hadn’t given Lily and I a lift to the hospital, would I be over at his house now, asking these questions? No. So why does one afternoon together change that?

My feet hit the ground, my bag bumping over the seat as I drop out of the ridiculously high vehicle. I shut the door carefully, not wanting to come off as though I slam it in his face while he sits there, seemingly in thought.

At least Lily is okay.

At least he was there to help her when she needed it. He was there for her. The thought has me lifting my head as I walk around the front of the vehicle.

Bowen stares at me as I walk by.

His throat bobs, our eyes fixed on one another while I focus on keeping one foot moving ahead of the other.

I look away and set my sights on the familiar safety of Mum and Dad’s front step. I can do this. We’ve said all there is to say. He helped me, I said thank you, we were at each other’s throats the rest of the time … but what do you expect from two people so vastly different?

The creak of his door hinge sends a jolt through me, my hearing acutely attuned to the scuff of his shoe as he gets out of the Jeep. I make it another step, so damn close to crossing off his property, when his hand circles my arm.

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