I meet his gaze evenly. I don’t care for the insinuation, but I’m not about to rise to it.
His voice softens. “Brandon. You’re living in the past.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Try less. Just…be. Go with the flow.”
I frown. “That’s what I’ve been doing. It’s why I moved back. Iamgoing with the flow.”
“Yeah. You’re flowing like a river blocked by a bloody dam.” He straightens with a sigh, and I stand too. “I’ll make it really simple for you, alright? Forget that you’re older than her, and forget that mentor shite. Those are big ticks on some women’s wish lists.”
“That wouldn’t be—”
“What? Noble?”
“Actually, I was going to say—”
“Honourable?”
I open my mouth, then I shut it. He guessed correctly, and I can’t stand how self-important it makes me sound.
Sean sighs. “Mate. Let a wise forty-five-year-old give you one piece of advice. She’s a grown woman, yeah? So let her decide. Just tell her how you feel.”
“It’s…complicated,” I say cautiously.
“Then tell herallof how you feel. Disclose all the raisins in the fruitcake. Or are you worried you might scare her off?”
My jaw tightens. “I just don’t think I’m what’s best for her.”
Sean shakes his head, as if he knows better.
“What?”
“Eejit.”
***
I reach the cottage just as Rupert and Barbara are pulling up. I pause at the top of my front steps and raise a hand in greeting, bracing myself for the inevitable small talk. At least Lily-Anne’s with them—she’ll make the chatter bearable. I’m curious how she liked Canterbury.
Lily-Anne bolts from the car, making a beeline for me as she calls, “Thank you so much again for today!” over her shoulder with exaggerated cheer. She marches up the footpath, hissing, “Quick. Let me in.”
I blink, taking in the specks of paint on her hands and the faint smear across her cheek. “Oh no. They didn’t.”
“They did—Rupert and Barbara took me paintballing without even telling me until we got there! I thought I was being kidnapped.”
“And I don’t suppose you want me to invite them over to reminisce over tea?”
“Don’t you dare!” she hisses, glancing back at the neighbours’ yard agitatedly while I unlock the front door. The moment it opens, she slips inside, exhaling a long breath of relief once it’s closed.
“So, did the book shopping not happen?” I ask.
She scoffs. “Book shopping? You mean the five minutes it took Barbara to collect the order she’d already paid for? Okay, I’m exaggerating a little, but we weren’t there long. There was a ‘change of plan’, apparently. Look—”
She hikes up her shirtsleeve, revealing several angry red welts marking her forearm.
“Ouch.”
“Think that’s bad? Look at these!” She tugs down her collar, just enough to reveal several more welts along her clavicle. “Right between the body armour and helmet! Those boys of Rupert’s knew exactly where to aim.”
