Page 17 of Always Be My Pumpkin

I don’t mention that things really started to go downhill after Jamie found me staring at Flynn’s card last Christmas with tears in my eyes. I missed Oakwood so much after moving to London. And whenever I missed Oakwood, I missed Flynn.

‘Right. Sorry,’ he says, his voice like rough gravel. ‘Well, you know best. Like I said, it’s none of my business.’

He opens his door and hops out, and I follow him inside, wondering how we can make this work, when Flynn seems so pissed off over Jamie, and I’m still so hurt over stuff that happened years ago. And I’m also ridiculously, stupidly, attracted to him. And this cottage is tiny. And there’s only one bed.

He goes back out to get his stuff, and I curl into the dusky pink fireside chair and try to figure out what to say next, how to make this crazy situation easier for both of us, or at least for Flynn.

He dumps his holdall at the bottom of the stairs and sits on the couch, palms flat on his thighs. ‘I’m sorry, Gracie, take no notice of what I said. I shouldn’t be so judgemental. God knows, I haven’t made the best decisions myself when it comes to relationships.’

I’m not sure what bothers me most – the fact that Flynn considers my love life none of his business, or the regret in his voice that makes me wonder if he’s missing that girl back in Cricket Falls. Or the girl before that. Natalie. They were together for so long, and I know it hit him really hard when that ended.

Then he smiles, and it’s so tender, and it reminds me of the way he used to smile at me. Before. And I think maybe we can do this. It feels strange. It feels different. But he’s still Flynn. I’m still me. And I’ve missed him so much. Maybe I can have my friend back. If I’m careful. If I stop myself messing things up by hopelessly wishing for more.

I decide right then it’s best if we don’t talk about Jamie, or Natalie, or that girl with the perky breasts that I’m pretty sure aren’t real, the one who’s been posting about him for months like they’re an item, even though he hasn’t mentioned her once. Meghan, I think.

‘This place is lovely,’ I say because talking about Hazel Cottage feels safer. Although maybe not. Not when we still have to deal with the fact that there’s only one bedroom.

‘Yeah, Mom and I gave it a revamp when we came back a couple of years ago.’

‘Oh, that’s right. You came back.’ When I was safely out of the picture. In London. With Jamie.

Flynn gives me a long look, as if he’s deciding how much to say. ‘Yeah, Mom finally got the all-clear, and she wanted to come back and see the place. And visit Pat too, of course. They were always close until Dad got so hot and bothered over Gran’s will. And insisted Mom take his side.’

Oh, okay, so that’s why he sounds so careful with his words. His family’s property has always been a sore subject, especially between Pat and Flynn’s dad. Flynn’s grandad died decades ago, and his gran died just a few months after my dad. Sixteen was a tough year for both of us. And we helped each other through it, until he left.

‘And then you sent me that letter, about breaking up with Jamie.’

Shit. Please, please, don’t go back to talking about Jamie. Or that letter. The one you never replied to. I’m still so embarrassed about that.

‘Sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn’t have sent that.’

Flynn’s face clouds, and he wraps his arms around his ribcage. ‘Of course it wasn’t stupid, Gracie. I was glad you wrote to me. I always hoped . . .’

He shakes his head, sinks back into the couch. ‘Anyway, I wanted to check up on you, make sure you were okay. And Pat had already asked Mom if I would come with her, as he needed to talk to both of us about Gran’s land, and this cottage.’

‘It really is lovely. The cottage, I mean,’ I cut in, grasping for safety again, because I don’t want to talk about Jamie, or that letter, or all the stupid feelings I let myself feel for those two months, before I decided I needed to get real. Real meaning London with Jamie. Yeah, that decision really backfired.

‘I especially like the daisy print duvet,’ I say teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. ‘You always did like my daisy chains.’

His smile is shy now, and his face colours, and he looks more like the boy I remember, and my heart melts at the sight.

‘I picked that out. Mom dragged me to Abbeyville to help choose some of the soft furnishings.’ His smile gets wider. ‘I spotted that in Dunne’s and it reminded me of you.’

Then he gives me a look that tells me we’re about to start talking about the awkward stuff. ‘I guess it’s a good thing you like it, seeing as you’ll be the one sleeping under it.’

I shake my head. ‘No. Absolutely not. This is your house. Well, your family’s, at least. And that’s your bed up there.’ I give him a determined smile. ‘You told me so yourself.’

‘I’ll take the couch. You’re taking the bed. And I’m not taking any argument.’ He crosses his arms and gives me a stern frown. Mock-stern, because I can already see his mouth twitching. But still, it’s unsettling, how much I like this bossy side of him, how it makes me want to push back, just to keep him looking at me like that with those smouldering eyes.

‘Flynn, you can’t sleep on that. You don’t fit, you’re too big.’

And I’ll have to see your bare chest every morning, seeing as how you sleep half naked, if this morning is anything to go by, and I’m already having enough inappropriate, horny thoughts as it is.

‘I’ll be fine.’ He grins as though he’s reading my mind. God, I hope not. ‘And I’ll sort some pyjamas, or at least a T-shirt and sweatpants. You won’t have to endure my naked body over your morning coffee, don’t worry.’

I’m not worried. Okay, maybe I am, but I’m a big girl, I can do this. ‘Okay, I suppose we could give it a try.’

I don’t have much choice. And at least, it means I’ve got my friend back. What have I got to lose? Nothing. Except maybe, my self-respect, if I can’t rein in all this unrequited lust.