She still looked as if she thought I might expire in front of her at any second. But the idea of me grovelling must have appealed, because a quirky grin appeared, and she nodded. “It’s a deal.”
* * *
The short menu contained a number of healthy choices with a variety of vegetables and proteins. I read each entry three times in an effort to find something I could order without feeling the need to interrogate the waitress first.
On the far side of the table, Gabi inspected her own menu with an air of casual indifference. “What looks good to you?”
Nothing. I couldn’t order a damned thing without wanting to know the source of each ingredient, how they were stored, and the methods of preparation and cooking. “I’m not very hungry,” I said, lowering the menu to the table. “I might stick with a salad.”
Gabi looked up at me, her eyes narrowing. “Are you planning to eat a stick of celery and declare yourself full?” she asked dryly. “Because this is a nice place and I intend to enjoy a good meal. Especially since it’s your treat,” she added with a wry grin.
I held my arms out from my body. “Do I look like I’m in the habit of starving myself?”
Her gaze lowered, slowly taking in the muscular form obvious beneath my fitted t-shirt. “Actually, you look…” she paused to clear her throat, “very healthy.”
“Exactly.” Nodding in satisfaction, I lowered my arms. I was healthy. Unfailingly healthy. Healthy to the point of being unhealthy. There was a reason I had trouble ordering off a damned menu.
The waitress approached with our drinks. Water for me, juice for Gabi. When we ordered our meals, I made sure to have chicken added to my salad, to soothe Gabi’s concern. My requests to leave off the dressing and to have the chicken grilled using a light spray of olive oil didn’t seem strange or out of place. I didn’t even ask a single question about the salad ingredients. For me, it counted as progress.
“Is there anything else you’d like me to do for you?” the waitress asked as I handed her my menu. The words came out all breathy and hopeful, and when I met her gaze, she blushed a furious shade of pink. Whatever response I gave in her imagination, it wasn’t available from the kitchen.
“We’re good,” I told her with a polite, but dismissive, smile. “Thanks.”
After she slunk away, Gabi snorted in amusement. “I bet you get that reaction a lot.”
“It’s the face.” I shrugged, gesturing vaguely upward. “Some people go stupid over it. I blame my parents.”
Her gaze retraced its path over my body, this time lingering on my biceps, before she murmured, “It’s notjustthe face.”
My stomach dipped. Warmth flooded my cheeks. Such simple sensations, and yet they caused a riot in my brain. I’d spent years being told I was beautiful, handsome, gorgeous, stunning, to the point where compliments had ceased to mean anything to me. When I looked in the mirror, I still saw the same skinny kid I’d always been, especially this last year. I’d spent so much time focusing on myself and my body, trying to eliminate all my stubborn imperfections, I’d all but stopped responding to other people at all. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt anything as ordinary as desire or want for another person. To know Gabi could still inspire such a reaction made me weak with relief. It was proof there were still parts of me that could feel real. Parts I hadn’t picked to pieces.
“Tell me what’s going on with you,” I said, eager to hear about Gabi’s life. “You look like you’re doing well for yourself.”
She smiled, nodding. “I really am. The other photographers I work with are wonderful. Sharing the studio with them has been great and I get to do lots of portfolio work, which I love.” She placed a hand over her chest before announcing, “I have a waiting list for clients now.”
“That’s fantastic,” I gushed, smiling. “I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m happy for me, too.”
My chest tightened as I drank in her blinding smile. Damn, I’d missed her. “How is your family?”
“Great,” she said. “My parents are enjoying being closer to the beach since they moved, although my mum still bemoans being so far from your mum. I think she misses the Saturday morning coffee dates they used to—” Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off by another thought. “Frank!” she cried. “Frank’s getting married.”
“So I heard.” My mother had shared the news with me on my first day back. It seemed the physical distance now separating our parents had done nothing to dampen their friendship. “What’s his fiancée like?”
As our meals arrived and we began to eat, Gabi told me all about Caroline. She and Frank had met when he accidentally rear-ended her car at a stop sign. The initial sparks of irritation had quickly ignited another kind of fire. According to Gabi, the two had been inseparable ever since.
“Are you in the wedding party?” I asked when she paused to take a bite of her pasta.
“No, thank goodness. Caroline’s best friend, Mandy, is the only bridesmaid. I’ll be doing a reading during the ceremony, but she’s the one who’ll have to smile for three million photos and hang off Lawrence’s arm all day.”
I kept cutting my chicken, refusing to flinch, or go still, or react in any way at all. “Lawrence Miller.” I hadn’t spoken his name out loud in more than five years, and yet it flowed across my tongue with the ease of familiarity.
“Yes.” She glanced up at me for a brief moment, before dropping her gaze again. “He’s the best man.”
“Of course.” Silence fell for the first time since we sat down. Law had always been a taboo topic between us, even after we’d both moved past what had happened at the graduation party. The bruises inflicted by that night had faded from view, but they had never really healed beneath the surface. Law would always be a presence on the periphery of Gabi’s life though, if only because of Frank, and I was done allowing him to be an issue. “What’s he up to these days?”
“He’s still a personal trainer,” she replied, striving for the same conversational tone I’d used. “Still trying to save the world one client at a time. I don’t see much of him, although with the wedding coming up, we’ve been crossing paths more often. We’re nothing more than acquaintances really.” She huffed out a small laugh. “Which is weird, considering.”
