Page 122 of Play of Love
“Okay, let’s forget this whole diner incident.” I raised my shoulders and shrugged. “Let’s start over. Today is still wide open, and we’re together. We used to have fun, Abi.” We did when I wasn’t being a complete dick.
“I struggle to remember those times.”
“Don’t worry; I’ll refresh your memory.” I winked at her and stood up. When I looked back to her, I noticed she was smiling. At least she seemed okay.
We set off again and merged onto the highway following the route that would take us to Phoenix. Abi seemed a lot more relaxed with me now. She was less rigid, and her wall of reserve had faded. An advert came on the radio about Apple’s latest iPhone, and she told me that her company was heavily involved with a lot of Apple’s advertising campaigns. She elaborated on the work she was currently doing and all the ideas she had. I was impressed with the interest she showed and the way her eyes lit up as she delved into a deep conversation.
I spoke, too, happy that we were talking and happy that we weren’t going to travel the rest of the way in silence.
We’d been listening mostly to throwback 90s music, but, like some joke of fate, that Cranberries song came on again. I smiled to myself and looked over at her to see her blushing.
“Are you sure you don’t remember this song?” I asked more pointedly.
She was smiling now too. “Okay, I remember.” She took hold of the ends of her hair and tried not to look at me.
“Do you remember what we used to do to this song?” I’d always loved teasing her and wouldn’t pass up the chance to see her blush with embarrassment like she was now. I knew she wasn’t the shy nineteen-year-old I’d met years ago and that a lot had happened since; we had both changed, but that wouldn’t stop me.
She turned to face me. “No.”
“Liar.” I shook my head and reached across to poke her.
“Hey!” She protested, eyes wide with surprise but laughing at the same time.
“Don’t ‘hey’ me. And, if you lie again, I’ll come over there and tickle you to death.”
She laughed again, and I relished the sweet sound.
“You are too much, Mister.”
“Baby, I just expect you to be truthful.”
“Okay, I remember. Enough grilling already! Do you seriously expect me to talk about sex with you?”
“Yeah, why not?” I laughed at the horrified look on her face.
“I forgot how crazy you could be.”
“Is the lucky guy that great that you’d forget me?” That was my roundabout way of asking if she was seeing someone.
“What lucky guy?” She narrowed her eyes at me.
“Your boyfriend.”
She inclined her head to the side and gave me a sarcastic look. “I’m not seeing anyone. This week.”
This week?“You see a different guy every week?”
“Sometimes.” She replied with a sultry look I didn’t like because it wasn’t for me, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous, which I knew was ridiculous.
“How long has this been going on?”
She started to laugh but stopped when she saw the serious look I gave her.
“Look at you, Scott Emmerson. I know you’re probably with a different woman every day. Don’t question me for dating a different guy every week.”
“I’m not with a different woman every day.” Maybe a few years back I was, but I definitely wasn’t now, not since I started thinking about my life.And her.
“Liar!” She threw back in the same tone I used with her.
