The Breakaway(116)

Seeing him again made her feel like an arrow had lodged in her heart. He looked so good, his face tanned, his long-sleeved jersey tight against his chest, staring right at her; like she was the only thing he’d ever wanted. Like Abby Stern was his heart’s desire.

Abby let her bike coast to a stop, leaving plenty of space between them. She rested her hands on the handlebars and kept one foot on the pedal, poised for a quick getaway if it turned out one was required.

“Sebastian. What brings you to Philadelphia?” she asked, and was glad that her voice sounded steady.

Sebastian gestured in the direction of the signs. “I missed you. I wanted to see you.” The girls were watching this unfold, their eyes moving from his face to hers, intent on every word. Sebastian was just as handsome as she remembered, but he looked… not older, exactly. More mature? Less slick? His hair was styled differently, or maybe disarranged from his helmet, and his expression looked open and undefended, as the riders gathered around him, giggling.

“Your friends helped me with the signs,” he said. “I saw you guys on Instagram.”

Abby felt like her heart was a balloon, getting lighter and bigger with every breath she took. She forced herself to try to be prudent and mature, not to do the thing she most desired, which was tossing aside her bike and throwing herself into his arms.

“Lincoln sent me your story,” she said.

“What’d you think?”

“It was…” She licked her lips, and looked at the girls, who were watching, wide-eyed, like this was the best movie they’d ever seen. “It was very provocative.”

“Provocative,” he repeated, and smiled. “Can I ride with you?” he asked.

Abby felt weak in her knees. Weak everywhere. “Well. We are a girls’ riding club,” she said.

“Miss Abby, you shouldn’t assume gender,” Ryleigh teased.

“Yeah, we don’t even know Sebastian’s pronouns!” said Sally.

“He brought us doughnuts,” Hannah said. “He can come.”

“Can you give us a minute?” said Abby.

The girls indicated that they could. Abby could feel them watching as she led Sebastian toward the water and, she hoped, out of hearing range. He wheeled his bike along, holding its handlebars, looking at her pleasantly, his expression open and expectant.

“What are you doing here?” Abby asked. “How’d you find me?”

“I got in touch with your mother and found out where you’d be today. But I’ve been following the group on Instagram. It’s really impressive. And I’ve been thinking about you ever since the trip ended.” He wheeled his bike a few inches forward, then back again.

Abby looked at him. Why do you like me? she wanted to ask. Why did you pick me? If she and Mark didn’t match, there was even more of a disparity between her and Sebastian. He could have any woman in the world. Why her?

“You don’t know me,” she said, instead of any of that. “Not really.”

“So I’ll get to know you.”

“You don’t live here,” she said.

“So I’ll visit,” said Sebastian. “And you can come see me. We can see each other on the weekends. I’ll buy you tickets for the bus.”

“Jeez.” Abby said, shaking her head. “Not even the train?”

He rolled his eyes and said, “If you want the train, I’ll get you tickets for that.” He gestured toward the path, and the girls, who were clearly trying to eavesdrop. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

He reached for her hand, and Abby let him take it, feeling that electric thrill running right through her, that sense of rightness and completion.

“I want to get to know you,” he said. “I want to see your places. I want to see where you went when you were a kid.” He gestured toward the bag suspended behind his seat post, hanging over his rear wheel. “I brought other clothes. We can go out to dinner tonight, if you want.”

“Stop,” Abby said, her voice muted, thick with tears. She couldn’t let herself look at him, couldn’t let him get within touching distance. If he touched her—if he kissed her—it would be over. She would be lost. “Stop being so nice to me.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because…” Abby said. Her voice was a choked-off squeak and she made herself say, “Girls like me do not belong with guys like you.”

“Abby.” He looked shocked, almost angry, and she felt him touching her hand, then her chin, then her cheek. “There aren’t girls like you. There aren’t guys like me. There’s just you, and just me, and I missed you, and I want you to meet my parents…”

Abby was shaking her head, trembling a little, her throat tight and her eyes stinging, and there was a huge smile on her face. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay?”

She nodded.

“Abby,” he whispered, and pulled her against him with his free arm. He stroked her hair, then her back, his hands warm. He rubbed her neck, then that spot at the base of her skull that made her feel like she was melting. He bent down, solemnly raised her chin, and pressed a grave, gentle kiss against her lips. Then he reached for his bike and handed Abby hers.

Maybe she and Sebastian would never get married, Abby thought as she walked back toward the waiting girls. Maybe she would never marry at all. Maybe she’d choose a life like Lizzie’s, an adventuring life, where she traveled the world and taught girls what she knew. All she knew for sure was that, for today, for now, she could have Sebastian. And, for today, it was exactly what she wanted.