Motion(Laws of Physics #1)(15)

Abe pressed his lips together in an obvious attempt to curb a smile, but the presence of faint indents on either side of his mouth, the beginning of dimples, betrayed him. “Shower helmet,” he said, eyes— which I’d just this second realized were the color of amber when he wasn’t irked—glinted with amusement.

“Yes, I’m giving you shit regarding your paltry compliment about my shower helmet, because it was wholly eclipsed by your incredulity that I am capable of doing something ‘smart.’”

He gave up the fight against his grin. “Oh? Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

Abe huffed a disbelieving laugh, looking at me like I was a puzzle. “Well then, you know what would’ve been actually smart?”

“Please enlighten me.”

“Taking a bath.”

I opened my mouth to volley a new sarcasm, but then promptly snapped it shut, blinking in astonishment. He was right. Taking a bath would have been the simplest and smartest course of action. But taking a bath hadn’t occurred to me. I hadn’t taken a bath since Lisa and I’d taken them together as children.

“Unless you don’t like baths.” Abe’s left eyebrow tilted upward a hint, as did his mouth.

Scowling, because I wasn’t going to admit that taking a bath hadn’t occurred to me, I deflected by asking, “Why are you here? I thought you were in the basement.”

“I’m staying in one of the guest rooms on the third floor, I’m on my way up.”

“Oh. That makes . . . sense.”

We traded stares for several seconds, neither of us moving. I debated what to do or say while I watched all the good humor slowly leach from his features, leaving a mantle of renewed hostility. My stomach fluttered, startling me, and I pressed a hand against it.

You’re having butterflies because he’s pretty, I told myself. But the hurried explanation felt woefully inadequate.

Let the record show, Abe really was extremely attractive in a cool, aloof, tall, dark, and handsome kind of way—if you go for that. For some strange reason, I couldn’t help but compare him to Dr. Poe Payton, who was also extremely attractive. But although Poe was tall, dark, and handsome—objectively, perhaps even more handsome than Abe—he wasn’t aloof. He was friendly and brilliant.

That’s the problem, a voice inside my head informed me, has anyone brilliant ever been nice to you without having an ulterior motive?

Releasing a silent sigh, I wallowed for a split second in the sudden cold nausea curdling my stomach, fighting a duel with the flutters. It might have been the hastily eaten prunes, but I didn’t think so. More likely, it was the realization that I was more inclined to trust someone who disliked me than someone who liked me.

Which was probably why despite Abe’s apparent dislike for all things Lisa (and therefore me) in that moment, while standing so close to his handsomeness, I felt a small kinship with Gabby and her hoo-hah. Abe openly disliked me/Lisa, and I found him and his dislike attractive as evidenced by the increasing fluttery activity in my abdomen. How messed up was that?

Needing to break the moment, I considered saying one of my anytime phrases.

My first instinct was to use Is this why fate brought us together? but immediately dismissed it as an option. I usually employed this one when I spotted something I wanted, like chocolate gelato or fingerless gloves. So, nah.

Perhaps, Be that as it may, still may it be as it may be? Eh. No. Too random and too much time had passed with us just staring at each other.

Eventually, I channeled Lisa and flicked my wrist, moving my hand in a dismissive out-of-the-way motion I’d seen her use the last time we were together.

“Move. You’re in my way.”

His lips curved, definitely more of a smirk than a smile. Hinted at dimples made an appearance, deeper on the left side than on the right. But that might’ve been because his mouth hitched higher on that side. Licking his lips, his eyes dropped to the ground, the radiant amber irises now hidden by his long black lashes. He stepped to the side, lifting his arm in a go-right-ahead gesture.

So I did. I walked to my room. I opened the door. And then I closed it.

Not three seconds later, he knocked.

Gritting my teeth, I opened it, once again coming face-to-face with his smirking smile, dimples, and amber eyes, which—for the record—held no amusement.

“What do you want?”

“Isn’t this your sister’s room?” Abe crossed his arms and lifted a dark, challenging, irked eyebrow.

Ah! I was in my room! But that was okay because of my shower helmet plan. Which meant I didn’t even need to lie.

“This is Mona’s room.” Truth. “This room also has a balcony, which I plan to use to dry my shower helmet.” Also truth. Turning from him, I walked to the single French door leading to the small balcony and unlocked it, opened it, and placed the helmet under the small table so it wouldn’t get direct sunlight.

Shutting the door to the balcony, I was surprised to see that Abe had followed me into my room. His gaze moved over the interior of the space, seemingly taking in or cataloguing the objects within. His unexpected inspection made me look around as well. I attempted to view my sanctuary from his perspective. What must it look like to a stranger?

The walls were white. I liked rooms painted white, especially if I spent any period of time within the room. Books. Lots of books on four giant shelves lining the wall closest to the door. Two floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the French door dominated the far side and flooded the space with light. The bed was twin-sized with a night-sky print comforter and one white pillow. I preferred the small footprint of a twin over surrendering valuable floor space to a larger bed. A drafting table that served as my desk sat against the fourth wall. Books and papers were stacked beneath.