Page 29 of Always Be My Pumpkin

I kick his thigh and he grabs my bare foot, and then the other one, and keeps hold of them on his lap. I relax back against my cushions and smile. This feels fine, this feels friendly. Not awkward at all. Just two friends kicking back and chilling out.

‘At least you got the man-size tissues for that giant honker of yours, Anderson,’ I snigger. ‘Good call.’

‘Give me that. And be quiet, woman.’ He rolls his eyes but his grin stretches wide as he pulls the remote from my fingers and presses play. He leans back and starts watching the opening credits, with his hand on my foot, and his fingers tracing circles on the side of my ankle.

I don’t think he realises he’s doing it – in fact, I’m sure he doesn’t – and I try not to overthink. I need to focus on the movie and ignore the warm thrumming sensation at the top of my thighs. But Flynn’s eyes are fixed on the screen, and his fingers are still lightly circling, and it’s not easy to ignore.

I hadn’t made up my mind what to watch, but the icon was hovering on Friends with Benefits when Flynn grabbed it, and it looks like the universe has decided we’ll be watching Justin and Mila get sexy and steamy, with Flynn absent-mindedly giving me a foot massage that’s streaming liquid heat through my core.

Oh God, we’re supposed to be hanging out, reliving innocent teenage memories, from back when Mam used to be wedged in between us. If I don’t distract him soon and make him stop tracing circles on my ankles with his fingertips, there’s a danger I’ll break and end up begging him to touch me other places too. But it feels so good.

‘You okay, Gracie?’ He lets go of my feet and I almost groan in protest as I open my eyes. Oh no. Was I making faces? Moany faces?

He squints at me. ‘Did you . . . did you just fall asleep?’ He coughs out a laugh. ‘I haven’t seen this movie before. Is it that bad?’

‘No. Nope. It’s great. But will you pause for a bit so I can nip to the loo.’ I jerk my legs up, plant them on the cool flagstone floor, then run upstairs before Flynn has a chance to say another word or touch another part of me.

And I warn myself sternly to stay at my end of the couch and tuck my legs tight beneath me when I get back down. Because there’s no way I’m going to be able to focus on watching a rom-com, or eating my lovely pizza, or even breathing normally if Flynn starts playing with my ankles again.

And the worst part is he doesn’t realise he’s doing it, or the effect he’s having. Because for him it’s not complicated. He’s hanging out with an old friend. I just need to figure out a way to make it less complicated for me.

It’s only ten when the movie finishes, and Flynn asks if I want to watch another.

‘What I really want is some ice cream. I wish I’d thought of getting some earlier.’

He leans back and rubs his stomach. ‘We ate two whole pizzas.’

‘Amateur,’ I scoff, and he throws out his hands and stands up. Then he walks over to the kitchen, grabs something from the freezer, and turns to me with the widest, smuggest smile as he holds up a familiar cardboard tub with a Toni’s sticker on the side.

‘Well, this here amateur bought a tub of Toni’s chocolate and ginger for dessert.’

My mouth opens wide on a gasp. ‘How did I miss that?’

I saw him empty a carrier bag with milk and a few other bits, but how did I not sniff out my favourite treat? I think being around Flynn and feeling all these weird feelings is messing with my signal detectors and scrambling my brain.

He leans against the fridge, eyebrows arched. ‘But now I’m thinking I might have to eat the lot to prove I’m not as pathetic as you think I am.’

‘Don’t you dare!’

‘As if.’ His face erupts in a grin. ‘I’d like to live a little longer.’ His expression changes, warm and tender, as he adds, ‘I’m enjoying this, being back in Oakwood, with you.’

He gives himself a small shake, barely noticeable, but I see it, because I do that too when I’m reminding myself to be sensible, get a grip, damp down any silly notions about what might happen.

‘How about we don’t watch another movie,’ I say as he reaches into the drawer for spoons. He doesn’t grab bowls, just hands me the tub and my spoon, and then sits opposite and waits for me to take the first scoop, the way he always did. One tub between us, Flynn insisting I take the first and last scoop every time, even if it wasn’t my turn.

‘How about we just sit and chat,’ I say. ‘I feel like I’ve missed so much of your life, and I want to hear it all.’

‘Really?’ His brow furrows and I notice a flicker of uncertainty in those cornflower blue eyes.

‘Really.’ I hold out the tub and pull it back again, just a smidge. ‘One story per spoonful, that’s the deal.’ I place the tub in his lap and sigh softly. ‘Now start at the very beginning, when you first arrived in Cricket Falls.’

14

Flynn swallows his spoonful of ice cream, and I nudge him and say, ‘Off you go, first impression of Cricket Falls.’

He hands back the tub and takes a deep breath, but as I watch him psyche himself up, my phone buzzes on the coffee table, and I look down to see Mam flash across my screen. I’m not expecting a call tonight.

I grab it and hit accept, unfurling myself from the couch, then I point at the ceiling to let him know I’ll take the call in the bedroom. She knows he’s back and I’ve told her I’m staying in Hazel Cottage, but I haven’t mentioned that Flynn’s staying here too. I need to bite the bullet and tell Sarah before I tell anyone else, but she’s been up the walls at work, and I haven’t seen her since last Sunday morning.