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Hope to run into Brian by hanging out at bars he’d frequent, or going to parties hosted by mutual friends.
Seems especially pathetic now.
Climbing out of bed, I open the curtains and admire the view of the marsh. It is a glorious May morning. The trees sway in a breeze. The water is calm, glinting in the light of a strengthening sun.
I love Wilmington. But being on Bald Head makes me wonder why the hell I’d ever go back.
I’m hit by the smell of coffee the second I open my door. The girls scurry downstairs, and I have to smile at the way they trip over each other to greet Abel.
How fucking sweet was he to buy all that stuff for my dogs? My heart squeezes at the memory of Cher literally leaping with joy when we played frisbee together.
My thighs squeeze at the memory of Abel’s body curled around mine. I’ll take frisbee lessons from him any day, please and thank you.
Makes me think Mollie really is right about Abel. Maybe he is into me. Not romantically, of course. Abel’s not into anyone romantically. But I do think—I hope—he might find me attractive.
I pad into the kitchen and see Abel standing at the coffee pot, his back to me. He’s in slippers, sweats, and a broken-in black T-shirt that stretches across his back inthatway.The one that makes my brain short-circuit.
His hair is a mess of dark, disheveled curls.
He puts a hand on the counter, making the thick veins in his forearm pop against his skin, and then he looks at me over his shoulder.
“Morning.” The rumbly, deep sound of his voice catches on my nipples.
Construction Abel is hot. Date Abel is handsome. But morning Abel is... quite possibly my favorite thing ever.
“Hi.”
The dogs are at his feet, looking up at him like he hung the moon.
All of us are looking at him that way. And he is totally chill about it. Like being ogled while he drinks his coffee is a common occurrence.
“Y’all sleep okay?” he asks.
“We did. You?”
“I thought we could take our coffee over to the Maritime Market.” Abel turns back to the coffee and pours it into a pair of travel mugs. “Get some breakfast burritos or something. It’s beautiful out there right now.”
Never thought breakfast burritos would make me weak inthe knees, but here we are.
“I’d love that. I actually need to grab some shaving cream. I’m out.”
“Great. Let’s do it.”
I finish my coffee on the golf cart ride to the small shopping center in the middle of the island. Bald Head’s only grocery store, the Maritime Market, takes up the largest spot, although it’s not very large at all. There’s a tiny deli tucked in beside it that has a covered deck dotted with bistro tables. The place is deserted. It’s early, plus the island is quiet this time of year.
I put leashes on the dogs and head to the deck.
“Y’all grab a table,” Abel says. “Tell me what you want and I’ll order.”
I start to unzip the crossbody fanny pack I threw on before we left. “Only if you let me pay.”
Sighing, Abel tilts his head. “Can we skip this part today? I’m not taking your money.”
“Then I’m not taking the burrito.”
“Vegan sausage or chorizo?”
“Here’s twenty?—”
