Not the Rebound Guy by Abby Knox (popular books of all time .txt) 📗

“And I want you to drive her, make sure she gets there and back safely.”

Eliza stares between the two of us. “I was going to walk and then drive Nora home. Everywhere here is a five-minute walk.”

I sip my water and turn my gaze on Betty because the longer I stare at Eliza, the redder my face gets. “All the more reason to accompany our guest. I’d be happy to.”

I’m being eyed suspiciously in the way that uptight people tend to do. “Has Piper’s Grove been overrun with night-stalkers since the last time I visited?”

I lift one shoulder and down my water. “Nah, but still. I was going to stop over there tonight, anyway. My buddy Andy is playing a gig tonight.”

Eliza looks me over like she’s not sure she believes my motive. “All righty, then,” she finally says.

“Wonderful! It’s a date!” Betty says, trying to shove some more bills into my hand.

Both I and Eliza shout in unison, “Not a date!” She and I catch each other’s eyes, recognizing at the same time what Betty’s scheming.

“Potayto, potahto,” says Betty. “Either way, you two need to get cleaned up. Besides, it’s time for Wheel of Fortune, so go on, both of you.”

For me, there’s not much to “get ready.” While Eliza takes over the bathroom, I head to the porch and pull out a clean shirt from my duffel bag and wait quietly for my turn to shower. I’m not actually dirty, and this isn’t technically a date. Still, I want to smell good if I’m keeping her company tonight.

Gertie and Helen spot me outside and scramble up to the porch to say hello. Gertie bleats, and I scratch her behind the ears. “Hush. Trust me, you don’t want to interrupt Pat Sajak.”

Chapter Three

Eliza

I’ve chosen to stay in the same jeans I’m wearing—Hijinks is not a dress-code kind of place, last I checked—but pair them with a sheer white peasant tunic over a bright red camisole. Instead of my usual high heels, I wear whenever I go clubbing, I dig out the teal cowgirl boots from the back of the closet in the guest room. They were my mom’s. The last time I slid them on was four years ago, and I can’t believe they’re still here. Yet I understand why Grams never got rid of them. I’m glad she kept them. It makes me feel a little bit closer to my mom, even if she and I aren’t getting along at the moment.

As Garrett and I walk down to Hijinks together, I find myself as nervous as I would on a first date. Which this isn’t. My head knows that. My head is fully aware that I just ended a four-year relationship less than two days ago, so there’s no way I’m on a date right now. Except, Garrett smells like a first date. That wild man smell is still there, underneath, but he’s also freshly showered, and that shirt has been laundered with something that smells heavenly. He’s combed his hair. Still a mess, but now it has the look of a mess that happened on purpose. The sight of him, along with that charming boy-next-door smile, is too dangerous. I’m already warming up to him because of how devoted he is to looking after Grams. I’m already attracted to his tall, lean body and soulful eyes.

This isn’t a date. This is your heart rebounding…looking for evidence that there are good men still out there. Your sensitive, broken heart has spotted that evidence and wants to explore further. But you’re not going to do that because that’s not why you’re here. Now is the time to heal, not get involved with an almost-complete stranger.

My brain tells my heart, “You’re just friends. This is a new friend. That’s all.”

I make this my silent mantra as the two of us pass the grocery store with its boxes of flowers lining the sidewalk, elementary school with its flagpole in the yard, and the diner with its sandwich board outside announcing later hours tonight.

“Since when does Otto’s Diner stay open late? And on a Thursday?”

“My buddy’s band has started bringing in people from all over the county whenever they play Hijinks. It’s an opportunity to feed the drunk masses.”

“Smart,” I say.

“Yep, and the grocery store has even started stocking organic produce,” he points out.

“And here I thought nothing ever changes,” I reply.

“Oh, it changes all the time,” he says, with an air that makes me think he’s about to tell a joke. “In fact, the entire town’s stock rose by a hundred percent in just one day.”

I think I know where this is going, but I take the bait anyway. “Oh really?”

“Yep. The second you came back.”

“Oh boy,” I breathe. “So corny. But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

We pause at the empty intersection to cross the street to Hijinks. Garrett offers me his arm for me to hold while we cross. I take it, knowing I shouldn’t.

As soon as I do, he remarks, “Look at that. I just got eighty-five percent prettier.”

“Only eighty-five?” I ask.

He chuckles. “Well, I’m a little bit pretty. Give me some credit.”

Garrett is pulling on a thread at the frayed edge of my broken heart, and I desperately need to cut off that loose end and stitch it back up on my own. I don’t want to start all over again with the first handsome guy to charm me. Still, I can’t tell that to parts of my body that flutter to life whenever he talks.

Garrett buys me a light beer while I secure us a booth in a well-lit area near the stage. If we’re going to sit and chit-chat, it’s better if all eyes are not on us. Not that I think he’ll try anything, but I can feel my body betraying my broken heart. I might just crawl into his lap and start making out if we’re together in a dark corner of this bar.

I’m a little on edge when I