Motion(Laws of Physics #1)(55)
My ruckusy and flustered movements immediately drew his attention, his handsome face turning toward me, his eyes scanning over my form as his thumbs hooked into his pockets.
“Hey,” he said, sounding and looking totally normal, where normal for us was now apparently defined as friendly and interested. “There you are.”
“Yes. Here I am.” I was attempting to hold the mug just so, which made my elbows feel awkward.
His eyes dropped to my lap. “Is that a book? What are you reading?”
I clenched my thighs around the novel, my voice higher pitched than I would have liked as I said, “Nothing.”
“Come on.” A faint smile on his lips, a delightful little crooking of his eyebrow, he wandered closer, making no attempt to hide his blatant inspection of my lap. “What’s the title?”
His voice dropped a half-octave. It had a flustering effect on me. Why must he be this way? Where are his flaws?!
“Hair removal for dummies,” I sputtered stupidly, moving the tea to the side so as not to spill it on me and Moby.
But before I could manage settling the tea on the seat, he reached between my knees and withdrew the book. CURSES!
Instinct told me to launch myself at him, like I’d done this morning, and take it back by force.
I didn’t. I balled my hands into fists, threw my legs over the side of the bench seat, and crossed my arms to keep from reaching for him or the book. Another tussle with Abram would lead nowhere good—depending on one’s definition of the word good—and there’d definitely be no interruption just in the nick of time.
Tossing me a triumphant side-eye and a smirk, he lifted the book and read the title. And then his head shifted back on his neck and the smirk disappeared. He blinked. He frowned. He squinted.
“Moby Dick?”
I cleared my throat, searching for a plausible lie. “After our discussion about whales, it looked interesting.” As I said this, I stared at my feet, but then I peeked at him to see if he bought my untruth.
He gave his head a subtle shake. “You’re lying.”
Lifting my chin, I kept my mouth shut. See? Lying was at the bottom of my failure pile, along with matching my socks and telling the difference between Taylor Swift and Katy Perry and Lorde; they all looked identical to me, but then I’d never been good with faces.
“You’re lying,” he said again, like this discovery was fascinating rather than worrying. “You didn’t pick this book up because of our discussion about whales. You’ve read this book before.”
“Fine. Yes. Guilty.” I glared at his chin and the ever-present potential for a wizard beard. I hope he never buys a new razor.
Abram laughed like I was strange, coming to stand directly in front of me and holding out the book. “Why would you lie about reading Moby Dick?”
I accepted it, careful not to touch his fingers, and asked a question instead of answering his, “Have you read it?”
“No,” he said softly, tilting his head to the side as though to ensure I didn’t break eye contact.
“Really? And after all your whale facts, I’m a little disappointed.” Goodness, he had pretty eyes. So pretty. So very pretty . . . I bet he uses those eyes on all the girls.
Bah.
Once again internal monologue, STFU.
It was a struggle to keep my face free of revealing expression, but I managed it. Not that I thought he was, but what did I care if Abram was a goodtime guy? It wasn’t my business. And if it was true—which my subconscious seemed to be pondering—good for him.
To the point: Abram’s goodtime-guy status was irrelevant to me.
Okay. Good. That’s settled. Now all I had to do was leave. Time to go. Get up, get up, get up!
I didn’t get up. I couldn’t seem to make myself move. What I needed was an exit strategy. Brain-tussling with Abram about my favorite book was likely to be just as dangerous as body-tussling with him over a donut.
“I only know that stuff about whales because of my sister’s friend, Janie. She knows a ton of random facts.”
Perking up at the mention of Marie, I wanted to say, Tell me more!
Instead, I tried to think of something Lisa might say while searching for a way to extract myself from this assuredly captivating conversation. “She sounds boring.”
“She’s not.” A hint of irritation entered his tone. “She’s awesome.”
“Awesome?” I asked before I could catch the question, knowing I sounded interested. Marie had been just the best person ever, of course I was curious about her friends. Specifically, how would one go about being friends with Marie?
One of his reluctant smiles made an appearance, his eyes dancing, like he knew how curious I was. They were so very bright and engaging as they moved between mine. “Yes. Amazing. Brilliant. Surprising. Funny. Fascinating. Beautiful. She reminds me of you, actually. She—”
ALERT! COMPLIMENT ALERT!
I jumped up, bumping into his chest before maneuvering around him. It couldn’t be avoided. He was standing so close and I had to leave. Now.
“Okay. Well. See you later.” I tucked Moby under my arm and darted for the back door, a wave of warm pleasure rushing up my cheeks.
He thinks you’re beautiful and fascinating and surprising and—Wait, why was beauty the first thing I was happy about? Shouldn’t I be focusing on brilliance? And funniness? Beauty was irrelevant, irrelevant I say!