‘It’s not you,’ I replied.
‘The thing is, Catherine doesn’t want me to date anyone. At all. At least not until after my birthday.’
There it was again, the brilliant grin.
‘On June twenty-first,’ he said.
‘That’s right,’ I smiled. Another thing he remembered.
‘Then there’s no problem because we’re not dating,’ he declared, stopping my heart with three words. ‘We’re just two people who like hanging out and eating ice cream and occasionally holding hands and maybe don’t hold hands with other people.’
My heart resumed business as usual.
‘Can they eat ice cream with other people?’ I enquired with forced earnestness.
He wrinkled up his nose as he considered the question.
‘Can’t say I’m crazy about the idea but sure.’
‘OK then,’ I agreed, laughing. ‘She might fall for that. But I still think we should hold off on the introductions for now.’
‘Whatever you say,’ Wyn replied. ‘Would you maybe want to date me again? Like, tomorrow?’
I had no plans but even if I did, they would have been instantly cancelled.
‘I’ll text you,’ I promised, thrilled by the fact I actually could. ‘But I think that’ll work.’
He looked over at Bell House and shook his head. From here, it looked more imposing than elegant, a solid grey block designed to keep people out rather than invite them in. Even the decorative finials on the roof glinted sharp in the sun. Unwelcoming and uncompromising.
‘Still can’t believe you live in a mansion like that,’ he said. ‘I would get lost looking for the bathroom.’
‘Thankfully I have my own or I’d be in trouble too,’ I replied, steering his gaze with my finger. ‘That’s my room. Second floor, far left. Three big windows with the balcony.’
‘That’s where to imagine you later.’ His words became a promise I hoped he would keep. ‘Out on your balcony, staring at the sunset.’
‘And where should I imagine you?’ I asked, combing out mysnarled up braid and hoping he would picture me with less seaweed in my hair.
‘In my apartment. In bed.’
Neither of us said another word. There were too many swirling around in my head to choose just one and I didn’t trust any of them.
‘Guess you’d better get going,’ Wyn said as I pushed the image of him tangled up in bedsheets out of my mind. ‘I really don’t want to get you in trouble with your grandmother.’
‘Thank you for this.’ I waved my new icy blue phone in the air. ‘And for the sunscreen, because I would definitely have burned without it. And the sodas and the sunglasses. And for pulling me out the ocean.’
He reached for the sunglasses that were perched on top of my head and flipped them down over my eyes.
‘It’s all part of the service. Any time you need me to save your life, just let me know.’
‘Same,’ I replied. ‘Any time.’
Hopefully neither of us would need saving again for a while.
There was no AC without the engine running and the inside of the truck was suffocating. A bead of sweat ran down the side of Wyn’s face, gliding over his jaw, down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his T-shirt. I squirmed against my seatbelt as I turned molten and when he reached across me to unclip it, the belt snapped back but his hand stayed where it was, right beside my sun-warmed thigh. Across the square, the cathedral bells chimed the hour, an unwelcome reminder of where I was supposed to be.
‘I’d better head in,’ I said, flipping the handle on the truck and all but falling out onto the street. ‘I’ll text you later.’
‘I’ll be waiting.’
