An Endless Summer(50)

“Nothing, I think brown is seriously underrated.”

Sean’s eyes flashed from the road to the brochure momentarily. “So what would you choose then?”

My eyes landed on a colour before Sean had even finished the question.

“Portland Stone.” I pointed. “It’s warm and light and exactly the same colour I want to paint the dining room at the Onslow. It could work for modern or traditional interiors.”

Sean eyed the sample sceptically. “Portland Stone,” he repeated.

I chucked the book aside with a sigh. We came to an intersection; Sean flicked his indicator to turn right towards the main street of town.

“Ready for your life-altering adventure?”

I gave him a bored look. “I can hardly contain my excitement,” I said in an unenthusiastic, monotone drawl. All I wanted was to go back home, but Sean obviously had his own agenda.

Typical.

He flashed a winning grin. “Good. Let’s go!”





Chapter Twenty-Four



I was thankful for small mercies.

Sean’s little adventure involved nothing more than stopping off at the local hardware store to pick up a tube of Space Filler.

Utterly thrilling.

He took the scenic route from town to the hotel. I insisted he drop me at the bottom of Coronary Hill. Barefoot or not, I could hobble along as best I could. I would just have to suck it up.

Sean pulled over at the bottom of the incline. “Ashamed to be seen with me, huh?” he asked, curving his brow.

“It’s called preserving your life; you want to grow old, don’t you? Because, trust me, the last thing I want is to be lectured to death by Chris about you. Seriously, between him and Mum I don’t think I could …”

“Whoa, hang on. What has your mum said?” he asked, confusion lining his face.

Fuck!

“What? Oh, no – nothing.”

“Amy, you couldn’t lie straight in bed.”

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“Amy?”

“Just drop it, okay?” I snapped.

“Right, fair enough.” In one fluid motion, Sean leaned over and pushed the passenger door open and unclicked my seatbelt. It happened so fast I was looking at the open door and back at him, mouth agape, as I struggled to think what to say.

“Sean …”

“You better get going before someone sees you.” He wasn’t being nasty, he just said it in a matter-of-fact way. I knew enough to know that all of Sean’s good humour had slipped away.

It made me feel stupid and embarrassed. I didn’t want to argue the point because if he asked again what Mum had said …

He doesn’t look at you like a friend.

Well, I could never voice that; it was just too mortifying to repeat.

So I opted for some humility instead.

“Thanks for not throwing me in. The lake, I mean.”

Sean nodded in acknowledgement, but he didn’t look at me. Why was his coldness annoying me so much? Usually I would give anything to have a moment’s silence around him. No smug, smart-arse innuendoes, no cheesy punchlines, no smile; basically, no Sean.

Far out, why is this getting to me?

“You better go,” he said, starting the car back up, still not looking at me.

Well, screw you, buddy. I was the queen of the tantrums and no one was going to take my title. I slammed the door shut, which finally made his eyes snap towards me. I still sat beside him.

He curved his brow in silent question.

“Just drive me up the bloody hill.”

Big baby!

Sean took immense joy in speeding up the hill, making a long, grand, unnecessary sweep around the drive at a hundred miles an hour, before coming to a violent jolt directly outside the Onslow’s entrance and sounding the horn several times with a winning smile.

“See ya, honey!” he shouted.

I glared at him. Suddenly, the silent, broody Sean of before seemed oh, so appealing. I opened the door and paused mid-climb as my eyes fixed on an audience watching my arrival. There they were, sitting at the picnic table: Toby, Tess, and Stan all staring on with guarded amusement. It was Chris’s open scowl that caused me to look away and shoot dagger eyes back towards Sean before slamming the car door again.

“Aw, is this our first fight?” he asked, clutching his heart.

I gripped the edge of the window glass and leaned my head in, plastering on a sinister smile. “Oh, you don’t want to fight with me.”

“Sure I do.” He puffed out his chest.

“Really?”

“Haven’t you heard? Making up is half the fun,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, Sean, you stopping in for a cold one?” called Stan.

“Nah, mate, I’ll catch ya later. I’ve got a few things to do,” he yelled before he set his eyes back on me. Lowering his voice, he said, “I’ll leave you to deal with Chris’s lecture, shall I?”