I feel a hand come to the center of my back.
“You all right?” Jacob asks, his voice low with concern. His fingers apply the slightest pressure, and I cover my mouth as another cough escapes.
“It’s—I’m—” I sputter.
Jacob scoots my glass toward me, and I drink from it, trying to push this strange choking sensation down.
As I swallow, Jacob’s hand travels in a slow, small circle rightbetween my shoulder blades, and my lungs grow tight again, like all the air’s been sucked out of them.
“Everything okay?” Elsie asks, watching us with concern.
“We’re not together,” I say, the words flying out in a rush, and Jacob’s hand goes still.
“You’re not?” Elsie asks.
“No,” I say. “Sorry. We’re just—”
“We’re just traveling together,” Jacob says. He pats my back once—the gesture painfully platonic—and straightens, moving away from me. “We have some mutual friends in common, and we’re taking this trip to help them out.”
I nod. “Yes,” I say. “Exactly.”
“So, the two of you arenottogether?” Elsie asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Or no? No, we’re not together.”
“Sorry?” she says, and I cringe, hating that I’m adding to the confusion.
“No,” I say. “We’re not together.”
Out of the corner of my eye I watch Jacob’s fingers flex, tightening around his glass.
Callum’s eyes bounce between Jacob and me, and then he smiles. “So,” he says. “What are the two of you planning to do with your last night here in town?”
“I—” I glance over at Jacob. “I don’t think we have any plans.”
Jacob doesn’t meet my eyes. He just takes a long, deep sip of his drink.
And Callum doesn’t add anything. He only hums in acknowledgment, watching me, considering, a spark of interest there that I don’t recall seeing before.
The conversation shifts, with Elsie complimenting Jacob on his playing and asking us questions about our trip to Skye.
We give her and Callum the gist, leaving out details about myfather and the runaway bride, but sharing about our bumps in the road.
Jacob grins as he describes being surrounded by sheep—a first for him, he says, even though he’s lived in Scotland all his life.
Whatever stiffness he had only moments ago melts as he talks with Elsie, his posture relaxing, his brown eyes warm and golden. He has a five o’clock shadow right now. I can see it up close, the way it accents the line of his jaw.
He’s beautiful. Especially like this, open and honest, every emotion at the surface.
Just like he was the night we met.
I’m staring at him, I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop. And a few seconds later, he notices. His mouth forms a wide smile as he tells the story of the car breaking down, but when he looks at me, he halts mid-sentence, surprise flashing across his face.
I flush, reaching for my drink, and Jacob continues, saying something that makes Elsie laugh, but I don’t really follow.
My brain is buzzing, the sensation skittering over my skin.
And it only grows when I feel the smallest, most tentative movement, the barest brush of Jacob’s foot against mine.
