Page 8 of One Short Summer

“So, you guys are heading out in the morning?” Charlie asks, looking back and forth between Gabe and me, probably wondering what this little stare-off is all about.

He nods and his intense gaze leaves mine, focusing on Charlie instead. “I want to avoid as much traffic as possible. Plus, Monica has a yoga class to get to the next morning, so I’d rather not get there too late.”

She turns to me. “That’s awesome. You’re going to continue with your workout routine up there?”

“Yeah. You know it drives me crazy if I can’t do it.” I’ve always loved all forms of physical exercise, the more challenging, the better. I was extremely relieved when the doctors and physical therapists repeatedly told me the best and fastest way to healing, and to not have any long-term damage, is to make my legs stronger. All in a safe manner, of course.

It’s been about half a year now since my femur has completely healed and the doctors cleared me for all exercises. It feels good to not have to hold back anymore and to test my limits if I feel like it, which is often. At least exercise is the one thing I was capable of getting back to. Without that, I’d be even more lost.

“Yup. Apparently, Gabe thinks I should stay busy on our little trip, so he was gracious enough to sign me up for some yoga classes. And then there’s also the little gym at the house, so I’m all set. It’s going to be fun.”

Charlie and Hudson share a look before gazing back at me and Gabe, who’s leaning on the chair next to me, our bare arms touching the slightest. Once I’m aware of it, I’m momentarily distracted by his warm skin and his forearms.

I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about male forearms. For some reason, they’re...sexy?

My best friend clears her throat, and my gaze snaps up to meet hers. There’s a look in her eyes I can’t quite decipher. A moment later, my thoughts of grilling her aboutherthoughts are gone when she pushes a plate with two more pastries my way.

That woman knows how to distract me, no doubt about that.

Feeling Gabe’s eyes on me too, I bite into the delicious little cake, licking my lips when the vanilla cream squeezes out some. Noticing him squirm beside me before he coughs, I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Sometimes, it’s so easy to tease him.

Playing with Gabe has always been one of my favorite things, no matter how much he pretends to not like it. I know he secretly loves it, and so do I. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve really done it. Any of it. All the smiles, the flirting, the just enjoying my day, I guess?

I can already feel the positive effects of Gabe’s little lecture and this upcoming trip, and we haven’t even left yet.

It’s going to be interesting, to say the least.

Chapter Three

Monica

This trip is goingto be the end of me, and we’re not even halfway there.

I pull my tight seat belt back from my chest a little, so I can turn around in my seat to face Gabe. “You know you’re my friend, right?”

He nods, his eyebrows drawn together, probably no idea where I’m going with this.

“I know we said we’re gonna take turns, but I’m afraid I might strangle you if I have to listen to one more country song on this trip. And believe me, I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

He has the nerve to chuckle—actually chuckle.

I’m not sure he knows I’m serious.Deadserious.

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he keeps his eyes on the road, allowing me to stare at his profile without feeling weird. “It’s really not that bad, and don’t even pretend I didn’t see your foot swinging to the beat before. More than once, I might add.”

Of course he saw that. Dang it.

It’s not my fault though. There’s really nothing I can do about it. Music’s in my blood, and my body can’t help reacting to it in some way, even if I don’t like the music itself.

And just to clarify, Ireallydon’t like it.

Apparently, Gabe wasn’t done with his little music speech. “Plus, it’s a ton better than the Broadway stuff you like to listen to. My ears are still hurting from earlier.”

The smirk on his face reaches his eyes, making the skin at the corners crinkle.

Smiling suits him so well.

Despite that little fact, I want to wave my fists in the air to defend my favorite music, but since we both agreed to take turns picking music, I know he’s only pushing my buttons, just as I did his.

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