Page 66 of The Wedding Pact
‘Exactly.’ Flynn met August’s eyes. ‘Wait, which one of us in the mega-hot housemate in your scenario?’
‘I am, obviously. Flynn, did you, were you two … ’ August trailed off while she found her words. ‘Were you two seeing each other when we, um, kissed. You know, the Malibu-fuelled-proper-kiss?’
Of course he knew which kiss she meant. He found himself glancing at her lips now, and then a wave of guilt rushed over him, because earlier that day he’d been kissing Poppy. He should not be thinking about August in any way other than as a flatmate. ‘No,’ he answered, looking her in the eye instead. ‘I did meet her briefly before that, but nothing happened. We only met again, properly, after you and I, um, kissed.’
August seemed pleased about that, though did he imagine the second or so that she lingered in front of him? Did he imagine that hovering in the air between them were words left unsaid, and ghosts of kisses?
Chapter 46
August
August had the whole of the Friday off, ready for the big audition in the early afternoon. Before Flynn left for work that morning, he made her three pancakes and a thick banana smoothie, knowing she’d probably be too nervous to eat come lunchtime.
It felt weird to her that she hadn’t known about Poppy, which was completely understandable and none of her business, but … Poppy had been in her home, with her Flynn. Not that he was actuallyherFlynn, but it all just felt … weird.
‘Thank you,’ she told him sincerely, trying to push these thoughts out of her mind, at least for today, as she sat at their table in front of her food, while he grabbed his coat and bag.
‘Break a leg,’ Flynn said, and leaned over to kiss her cheek. He hovered for a moment and she instinctively put her hand up to hold him against her. How easy it would have been for them to move their lips two inches to the side and kiss, but the moment passed and Flynn pulled away, as if he’d made a pact with himself now that he was seeing Poppy – no more flirting with August.
After he left, August watched the door through eyes with a million thoughts behind them and tucked into her breakfast, managing all but the last bit before the nervous butterflies awoke and filled the rest of her tummy. She knew they wouldn’t rest until the day was over.
‘Good morning,’ August said. On stepping out of the house, she had been surprised to see a certain someone sitting on the wall, cup of tea in hand.
Abe jumped a little, having been lost in his thoughts when she approached, and then laughed at himself. ‘Good morning,’ he said, smiling the same relaxed, soft smile he’d offered just to her during the house inspection. It was so different from the straight-lipped, brow-creased one from when they’d first met at the open house. He took in her outfit. ‘You look like you’re heading somewhere interesting.’
‘Big audition today,’ she explained. ‘What are you doing here? We usually only see you at weekends; don’t you work in London on Fridays?’
‘Yeah. Mum was feeling a bit under the weather again – I think it’s the cold spell – so I came down last night on the late train.’ Abe stifled a yawn. ‘Sorry,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry to hear that, anything I can do?’
He smiled. ‘No, thanks though. I just never sleep well on Mum’s spare bed; it’s got this huge dip in the middle. I actually – oh, it doesn’t matter.’
‘What?’
‘Well … ’ he looked bashful for a moment. ‘When Mum was having your place refurnished a little and she got that great bed for you and, um, Flynn, I tried to get her to put that in her spare room instead.’
‘And give us the big dipper bed?’ August chuckled. ‘How kind.’
‘She gave me a telling off for that,’ he admitted.
August liked this easy-going Abe; he was showing more and more of his human side to her and she warmed to what she saw. It wasn’t just his manner. Here in his PJ bottoms and a thick wool sweatshirt, morning stubble and scruffy hair, he actually looked quite delicious.
Abe shifted over all of a sudden. ‘Do you want to join me? I don’t have a spare tea out here but you can have a sip of mine if you like?’
Something made her want to sit down with him. Perhaps it was knowing that she was heading out to her audition far too early anyway. Perhaps it was because she now knew that Flynn was most definitely not thinking about their kiss in the way she had been. In fact, kissing him again was off the table. And not that kissing Abe wasonthe table, but at this point all she knew is that she wanted to sit with him.
‘I will join you for a minute if that’s okay; I can never say no to this view. But I won’t have any tea, I just filled myself full of coffee and might wet myself.’
WHAT, why did I say that?August thought.
‘Fair enough,’ Abe replied, and the two of them sat side by side and looked out for a moment, while August tried to recover from her mortification. She felt his presence close to her, could hear his breathing, smell his aftershave, which was different from Flynn’s. He turned to look at her, and when she met his eye it was as if they were connecting, properly, for the first time.
After a moment, Abe drained the remainder of his tea and stood up, stretching his shoulders and revealing a sliver of skin above his PJ bottoms. ‘I’d better get back in,’ he said, ending the moment between them. ‘I promised Mum I’d cook her a slap-up breakfast this morning before I head back to London.’
‘You’re going back today?’ August asked, standing also, and admonishing herself silently for allowing the touch of sorrow to inject itself into her voice.
‘Yeah, but … ’ he chewed his lip for a moment, looking up at the top floor flat. He then turned his gaze onto her. ‘I’ll be back next weekend, I think.’
