Page 45 of Set on You

He wraps his big arms around my waist and guides me down the sidewalk, preventing me from pirouetting into oncoming traffic. I try my best to remain as discreet as possible while sniffing him, marinating in his intoxicating green-bar-soap scent. I want to ask him how he maintains his freshly showered aroma after a full day of golf. Is it witchcraft? Blessed genetics?

“Alright. You’re not making it on foot.” He whips out hisphone and clicks around. “Your chariot will be here in five minutes. What’s Tara’s number? I’m texting her to tell her you’re going home.”

I shrug, pausing to lean against a spiderweb-laden lamppost. Who knows people’s phone numbers anymore? “There’s a three... and a four. Maybe a seven.”

He sighs, extending his hand. “Give me your phone.”

I manage to locate it in my purse without struggle. “Here. But you better not go on my Tinder again.”

He raises a brow as he pulls up my texts. “Still Tindering, huh?”

“Nah. Haven’t been doing that lately. It’s too sad.”

He looks up from my phone. “Too sad?”

I toss my hands in the air, momentarily distracted by a jeep whizzing by blasting music. “I don’t want to do random hookups anymore.”

He nods, hurriedly completing the text. He leans in to drop my phone back in my bag. “Looking for something more serious?”

I take my shoe off to massage the blister forming on the side of my foot, still using the lamppost for support. “I guess so. I don’t really know what I’m looking for, to be honest. My last relationship ended badly. Makes me scared to date anyone at all.”

“Ah, right. Trust issues.” He holds me captive with his mesmerizing stare, his gorgeous eyes glowing under the streetlight. They’re so vibrant, you could see them from space. “Is that why you won’t go on a date with me?”

I shove my foot into my shoe again, taken aback. I’m going to need both feet planted on the ground for this. Since our argument in the clinic parking lot, he hasn’t seriously brought up datingagain. Despite our flirting, I assumed the topic was off the table. “I didn’t know you were still interested.”

He lets out a soft laugh as he drags his hand through his hair, an act that never fails to disarm me. “Seriously? I only text you a million times a day.” He pauses. “I’m interested, Crys. But you made it clear you just wanted to be friends, so I haven’t brought it up.”

“Aside from trying to lure me into a marriage pact,” I remind him.

“Believe me, I’d rather date you long before I’m forty. But I’ll take what I can get.”

Goose bumps erupt on my arms as he comes into sharp focus. I stare at him for a few moments, imagining what it would be like to go on a date with Scott Ritchie. My stomach flutters at the mere thought, until it’s washed away with a twist to the chest I call “reality.” I can’t repeat the mistakes of the past. “I can’t, Scotty. And it isn’t because I’m not interested.”

He deflates a little. “Then what is it?”

I drag my palms down my cheeks. I have no idea how he’s going to take this. “Lots of reasons. Mainly because our families are joining. And you just got out of a relationship.”

His mouth opens slightly as he studies me for a few breaths. His brows relax with what looks like a blend of confusion and relief. “Really? That’s why?”

“I like you. I really do. But I don’t want to be your rebound while you pine over your ex. I was a rebound with my last ex, Neil, and then he went back to the girl he dated before me.”

His forehead creases. “Diana and I didn’t get along themajority of our relationship. We should have been over months before we actually ended things. Trust me, I won’t be going back to her.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to... I just don’t want to get hurt again. Maybe I’d chance it if you were just a random guy I met at the gym, but our grandparents are getting married. I don’t want things to be weird if it doesn’t work out.” I turn my eyes away, trying to find a spot on the pavement to stare at, but everything is still spinning. Scott senses my loss of balance and wraps one arm around my waist, stabilizing me.

I desperately want to believe him when he says things are over for good with Diana. But then I remember how Neil used to say how “done” he was with Cammie. He’d go on and on about how glad he was to be rid of her, and how she never crossed his mind. Looking back, it’s clear he was compensating for the fact that he did think about her, probably all the time while he was with me.

I don’t question that Scott is genuine. He’s practically bursting at the seams with good intentions. But feelings are complicated. It’s only been a few weeks since they broke up. He could be more heartbroken than he’s letting on, or than he even realizes. He needs time to work out his underlying feelings before I end up suffering the consequences.

Scott squeezes my shoulders affectionately, his fingers gently stroking in a circular motion. “Why are you so sure it won’t work out?”

“Because it never has before, for me. Especially not with guys who’ve just gotten out of relationships.”

“Okay. I get it. But can I just ask, how long ’til it’s no longer a rebound?”

I glance at the midnight sky for answers, but end up topplingto the side, straight into Scott’s chest. His grip tightens. “I don’t know? At least three months.” I haven’t the faintest clue wherethree monthscame from. It has no historic relevance in the deep recesses of my mind. It’s completely arbitrary.

He nods in consideration. “Three months from the date I broke up with Diana, huh? That takes us to exactly August sixth. The day of our grandparents’ wedding. Will you at least consider a date then? We could take it really slow. To be really sure.”

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