“My favorite book?”
“That’s, um…”
“My favorite food?”
“You complimented my chicken.”
I roll my eyes. The roast was delicious, but even the most glorious chicken in the world can’t beat a Moroccan tagine. “That’s a fail for all three. Now we’re both a zero.”
Luke winces.
“Look,” I say, “we don’t need to pretend we had more than we did. You said it yourself. We had an arrangement. It suited us…and now that I know what you think about me—”
“Thatisn’twhat I think about you.”
“—the arrangement doesn’t suit me anymore.”
“You’re still upset.”
“I’m upset with myself. You…” I pause to muddle through the fading lust and fresh anger. There isn’t much else underneath those feelings. “I’m indifferent about you.”
“I didn’t think there could be a word worse thanfine. Butindifferent?” He grimaces. “Ouch.”
“Zero. Ouch.”
Luke sighs. “Els…”
“I need to get the clinic ready. Patients will start arriving soon. It’s probably best that you…” I nod at the door.
He darts a panicked look over his shoulder. He doesn’t want to run into any patients. Or…maybe…he doesn’t want to leave?
“What if I take you out to dinner?” he says. “I’m supposed to be working tonight, but I could ask my sous chef to cover—”
“No.” Without hesitating, with no tears, I said it.No. Sawyer will be proud of me. “But thank you for the roses.”
Luke drags his hand through his hair. He’s stalling for time again. “I can’t convince you to give me another chance?”
I shake my head.
His steps are slow to the door, and he pauses, his hand bracing the frame as he glances back at me.
“Your favorite book isLittle Women,” he says. “But no matter how many times you read it, you still cry when… Bloody hell, what’s her name again? You cry when the sister dies.” His eyes flit along the ceiling, searching for an answer. “Beth.”
I step forward, my hand outstretched, but he’s already gone.
Luke listened to me after all.
6
Conditions ideal to decline an invitation
Heat clings to myshoulders around the straps of my swimsuit. I grimace. My skin is toasted and tender when I press my fingers down. I’ve lingered on the beach too long this morning, but…
Five more minutes?
A few families have settled on the beach. Children wobble across the sand with their buckets in hand and shriek when the tide creeps into the moats surrounding their lopsided castles. I’m well past the age of my parents waving me back to shore. I adjust my goggles and take a deep breath before bobbing back below the waves.
I’m alive here.
