“Which tea?” I ask.
“None for me, thanks. Have to run. But I’ve been thinking.” He kisses the side of my forehead with relaxed affection, like it’s something he’s been doing for years. “I could push back my return flight, and stop off here to see you again before I go home.”
Oh, Christ. No. Don’t make it worse. That would be like peeling off a Band-Aid agonizingly slowly, tearing out every individual hair one at a time. I need to minimize the pain and rip that sucker off fast.
I duck out from under his arm, my stomach tightening and my fingers going icy cold. “No.”
One word. That’s all I can manage.
Owen looks a little stunned by my brevity and harshness. “Oh. I thought it might be nice to—”
“There’s no point.” I turn to face him and swallow hard. “This was just a moment. Then you leave. And we won’t see each other again. We both knew that.”I pick up a box of teabags and examine it. It’s less distressing to look at than Owen’s furrowed brow.“It was great. But now you’re going. And everything will be fine.”
I toss a bag into my mug and lift the kettle off the stove. But I’m not concentrating, and slosh the water into the mug so hard that it splashes out onto my arm. “Ow. God.” I drop the kettle onto the counter and grab a tea towel to wipe the water off me. “Shit. Fuck.”
“Can I—” Owen reaches for me, but I turn away and run my arm under the cold faucet.
“It’s fine. You should get your things together and go.” I fix my eyes on the cool water bouncing off my burning skin.
He doesn’t move, arm frozen for a moment in mid-reach for me. As it falls to his side, his chin drops to his chest.
My skin numbs under the cold water.
Owen lifts his head, and I sense his eyes on me.
Then he turns and walks away.
My eyes sting. Must be from the burn.
* * *
Half an hour later, Owen’s feet land heavily on the stairs. I’d expected him to skip down and straight out the front door. But he appears slowly, gradually. First his feet, then thighs wrapped in snug denim, followed by that goddamn butt, and finally his beautiful, but downcast, face topped with hair still damp from the shower.
He swings his bag over his shoulder. “Okay. I was thinking—”
Absolutely no point finding out what those thoughts are, they’re bound to only make things worse. “I’ll help you clear the snow from around the car. So you can get out.”
I turn away, get off the sofa, and walk to the front door.
Suddenly, he’s right behind me, smelling of my grapefruit body wash again. It’s even more mouth-watering than the first time.
“Summer? Can we please talk? For a second?”
My eyes stay locked on my boots as I pull them on. “No point.”
I’m not putting myself through the torment of a long farewell. I can protect myself from that, at least.
I pull on my coat, ram my hat on my head, open the door, and wave him through ahead of me. There’s no way I’m leaving him to shut the door in case he accidentally lets Elsa out again.
He stops next to the little hatchback and looks down at the wheels. “Yeah, I’ll move some snow to give it a fighting chance.”
I keep walking to the end of the drive to check out the lane. Good God, the plow has done a terrible job. Jesus, what the hell is Owen going to do?
“You can’t takethatthing out on this,” I call back.
“What?” He slips and slides up the drive to me. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Well, if you don’t know, then you’ll be even less safe on it than I thought.”
