If it took rejecting her invitation once more for her to get the message that we could never have a real relationship, then so be it.
CHAPTER NINE
ASTER
‘We have to go down the mountains on that thing? Don’t you have a car?’
Callum straightened after attaching a trailer to the back of a freaking quad bike. ‘Wouldn’t you have noticed if I had a car?’
Was it wrong that I loved his voice even when he was persuading me to use a mode of transportation reserved for people with a persistent and enduring death wish? His Scottish accent was subtle, overlaid by gentle gruffness. Could gruffness be gentle? Before meeting Callum, I would have said no. But that was how I’d describe everything about him. A rough outer shell with the squishiest heart inside.
But back to the pressing matter at hand. ‘I didn’t notice you had this death trap. You could be hiding a car as well.’
Callum’s eyebrows lowered. ‘It’s not a death trap. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything dangerous.’
And there it was: the squishy centre that meant Callum could convince me to walk a tightrope over a river of lava if he held out his hand and smiled.
I stomped up to the quad bike and swung my leg over the wide saddle. ‘If I should die on this journey, on your head be it.’
Callum slotted into the space in front of me. I tried incredibly hard not to hyperfixate on his thick thighs flexing as his boots settled on the footrests or his broad back becoming impossibly broader as he reached for the handles or the rush of his familiar smell. Clean cotton and fresh sweat and something uniquely him.
‘You’re not going to die, Aster.’ It should have been a big, red, flashing sign that I was far too gone on this guy that even the way he said my name made me want to swoon so that he would catch me. ‘But you might want to hold on.’
‘Huh?’ I managed to grunt before the engine roared to life and we shot off down the mountains.
What I did from that moment on could have been loosely described as holding on. It would have been more accurate to say I plastered myself to Callum’s back and could only have gotten closer if I’d climbed inside him.
Despite the violent growling of the engine, I could feel Callum’s rumbling laugh. I wished I could see and hear it too. It was such a rare occurrence. Due to my persistence, we’d watched an entire season ofBake Offin the week since Callum stopped avoiding me and had moved on toFriends. The odd chuffs of laughter Callum emitted seemingly against his will every few episodes reassured me that I didn’t need to feel bad about forcing a popular culture education upon him.
We passed the place where Bonnie ditched me. The rocks blocking the road had been dragged off to one side. It was impossible to chat because of the mad vehicle we were charging down the mountain on, but maybe that was a goodthing. Since Bonnie invited us for lunch, Callum had made it abundantly clear he wouldn’t be coming along. I’d wanted to ask why, but things between us still felt tentative and delicate. Despite what my dad might say, I did actually know when to keep my mouth shut.
We chugged over a bump in the road and the village came into view. From this vantage point, I could see the backs of the terraced cottages, each as colourful as the front. Vegetable patches, barren now but waiting to teem with life, sat in neat rows alongside swing sets and scrubby patches of lawn.
Beyond the houses, the curved bay sparkled in the midday sun. Fishing boats bobbed and gulls wheeled overhead.
My time in the mountains had been incredible, but something within me loosened as I took in the sights of actual civilisation. I didn’t know how Callum coped living all alone. I squeezed him extra hard as we abruptly slowed next to the last cottage on the long row. The lime-green one I’d wanted for myself.
‘This is Bonnie’s place.’ Callum cut off the quad bike’s engine. The quiet here was different than in the mountains. Waves hissed against the sea wall and the shouts of children carried on the salty breeze.
As delicately as an elephant lumbering out of a bog, I extracted myself from the saddle. ‘Ow.’
A flash of humour brightened Callum’s eyes, but quickly dulled. ‘I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours.’
‘Callum?’ I pressed my hand to his cheek before he could restart the beast’s engine and fly away. It was a thrill to touch him like this, that someone as closed off as Callum would let me this close. I had to remind myself a hundredtimes a day that it didn’t mean anything, that my plan to get over romantic entanglements was still on track. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come in?’
His bearded jaw hardened under my hand, but I didn’t pull away. I dipped my head, waiting for him to meet my eyes.
‘It’s not that I think you should,’ I explained. Callum’s defence mechanism against things he struggled with was definitely avoidance and I wasn’t about to force him out of that. ‘I just want to make sure you know changing your mind is always an option, even at the last moment.’
Callum’s eyes widened, but the peace between us shattered at the sound of a door crashing open. I jumped back as he powered up the quad bike and sped away.
‘I take it my little brother isn’t interested in lunch with his nearest and dearest?’ Bonnie shouted from the lime-green cottage’s front step. I wouldn’t classify the look on her intimidatingly beautiful face as hurt, but something fractured shone behind her eyes.
‘Just me today, I’m afraid.’ I opened a waist-high gate and walked along the mismatched stone path towards her.
Bonnie threw back her head and cackled, her shining black hair cascading across her shoulders. Unlike when Callum laughed, I wasn’t sure I liked it. ‘You should be afraid. Shoes off, then come meet everyone.’
Wiggling my toes in my llama-patterned socks, I followed Bonnie through a cosy-looking sitting room—complete with a TV, so not everyone on this island was a cut-off recluse—and into a kitchen-diner.
