The Breakaway(45)

“Oh, Abby.”

“I did. I liked him a lot. He made me feel…” She swallowed hard. The detail her mind had snagged on wasn’t the sex, or the feel of his mouth on her breasts or his hands on her hips, the things he’d murmured in her ear or how he’d looked at her, but how he’d made pasta, and carried two bowls back to bed. How he’d twirled a forkful of noodles and brought them to her mouth. How sweet he’d been. “He made me feel special. Like I was special to him,” she finally said. “And, clearly, I was not.”

“You are special.” Lizzie’s voice was calm, low, and soothing.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It’s not like I’m single.” She squared her shoulders and straightened her neck, her mouth a firm line, her posture resolute.

“So give me an update. How’s the ride?”

“Well.” Abby told her friend about the Spoke’n Four, how Andy had a crush on Morgan and how Morgan was barely speaking to her mom.

“And how are things with Eileen?” Lizzie asked delicately. Abby didn’t answer. “Before you get mad at me, let me just say this—she told me she wanted to spend time with you, and I believed her.”

“Spend time with me. By which you mean monitor every bite of food I put in my mouth and ask me seventeen different times how much weight I think I’ll lose, after all this biking. Or if Mark and I have made any plans yet.” Abby’s voice sounded like she was joking, even though she wasn’t.

“She’s trying,” Lizzie said.

“I know,” Abby said, and realized it was true. In her own belated, clumsy way, Eileen was making an effort. Which meant, Abby knew, that she’d have to be the bigger person—ha, ha, ha—and meet her mother’s attempt as generously, as kindly as she could.

She said goodbye to her friend and got dressed for dinner in her off-the-bike outfit, wishing she’d packed something prettier, less utilitarian than her linen pants and tee shirt. Shoes on, hair combed, she stepped out of her hotel room at the precise instant that Sebastian emerged from the room next door—because of course he’d be in the room next door. He wore jeans and a dark blue tee shirt, and even with his shamefaced expression, he looked handsome and appealing.

Shit, Abby thought, trying to ignore the attraction that rolled over her like a wave, making her especially aware of her lips and her fingertips and every inch of her skin. Trying to remember the videos she’d seen, the comments she’d read.

“Abby,” Sebastian said. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk this afternoon. It was completely my fault. I was preoccupied, and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine,” Abby told him.

“It won’t happen again,” said Sebastian.

“It’s fine,” Abby repeated. “Totally okay. Really.” She took a few steps into the parking lot, looking around for Jasper and the sag wagon.

Sebastian followed her. “You know, last year I went on a hiking trip. Part of it was a media detox. You’d hike and eat all your meals in silence, and you weren’t allowed to look at your phones…”

Abby decided to put him out of his misery. “I saw the TikTok.”

Sebastian’s mouth opened, then closed. “Ah.”

“It’s fine.” Jesus. She needed to get away from him. Where was Jasper? Or Morgan and Lily? She’d even welcome her mother at this point. She could see the Pressers standing under a tree near the lobby, and the Landons coming down the breezeway, carrying a bucket of ice. “It’s none of my business, anyhow.” She took a quick glance at Sebastian, who looked miserable, with his hands in his pockets and his face scrunched up, like something hurt. “I’m going to go find my mother.”

“Abby—” He looked like he wanted to say more. But he didn’t. She could feel his eyes on her as she hurried away.



* * *



Dinner that night started off with baskets of warm, pillowy Parker House rolls, served with whipped honey butter. Abby tore a roll into chunks and buttered one lavishly (after angling her body so Eileen couldn’t see). She popped it in her mouth and hummed with happiness. “Oh my God is that good,” she said. When she opened her eyes she saw Sebastian looking at her, his gaze intense and heated.

Abby felt herself flushing. She turned to her left. “Lily,” she asked, “how was the riding today?”

“Great!” said Lily, in her typically chipper tone. Abby suspected Lily would have given the same response, in precisely the same tone, if one of her legs had fallen off at lunchtime.

“You’re not sore? Nothing hurts?”

“Oh, everything hurts,” Lily said. She sipped her diet soda and smiled serenely. “But I’m managing.”

“Morgan, how about you?”

Morgan was sitting next to her mother. She ducked behind her curtain of shiny hair and murmured something Abby couldn’t hear and hoped was positive. She turned her attention to Andy Presser.

“Andy, how was your ride?”

His Adam’s apple jerked as he swallowed. “It was good. Fine.”

“How about you, Ezra?”

Ezra gave Abby a thumbs-up with his left hand while continuing to ferry chunks of buttered roll into his mouth with his right.