CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NOW

REBECCA

Neel grabs a wheelie stool and sits down next to me. “So that’s the famous Ethan.”

I give him a look. “Hardly famous.”

“You’ve talked about him a few times.”

My cheeks grow warm. Had I? “Seems like you’re the one talking about him now.”

Neel’s mouth quirks. “That is an excellent point.” He spins on his stool showing off his sweater vest that makes him look completely throwback cool, like James Dean meets jazz. The boy has style.

I compliment him aloud to change the subject. “You like?” He stretches out the hem. “It was my grandfather’s, my dad’s dad. I got a ton of his old stuff when he passed away last year. Never thought I’d be wearing any of it, but I feel like it works for me.”

“It definitely does.”

Neel’s smile is one of genuine pride. “I’ve got some cool traditional Indian clothes from my mom’s side too. I’ve been messing around with ways to blend the two styles together, like maybe a kurta with some saddle shoes?”

I nod. I’m not exactly sure what a kurta is, but I bet Neel looks great in it. He’s quick to return the compliment as soon as I pay it.

“I told you that you look good too, right?”

I laugh. “Many times.” Neel is a walking, talking ego boost.

Neel uses his toe to slide his stool in front of me so we’re knee to knee, not touching, but close enough that my gaze flicks down to the scant space between us. “So I’m thinking two people this good-looking should be going out again soon.”

“Oh, you are?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and drags his foot across the floor like he’s an old-world aw-shucks cowboy as he drawls, “It’s just that we had such a swell time last time.”

I laugh which makes him grin.

“Kiwanis Park has their movies in the park all summer and they’re doing a Gene Kelly tribute this month starting with An American in Paris. They did something similar last year and it was really cool.”

The skin above my hip itches, reminding me of my still-healing tattoo and how good it felt to do something like that again. “I guess it has been a while since we hung out.” Since Ethan got back specifically. My face grows hot and I try to hide it by focusing on the ring I was working on. What was with him just now? He barely acknowledged I was here. Did he get another lead on his mom? My throat goes tight at that possibility.

“Um, hello? Rebecca?”

My gaze snaps to the door as it opens and Ethan steps inside. I look away quickly and see that in my distraction I’ve nearly ruined the space I’m channeling for an inlay on the ring. “What? Oh, sure, we can hang out this weekend.”

Neel tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweater vest and scrunches up his face. “Right, but how about—and stay with me on this—instead of calling it hanging out, we call it a—”

“Did you ruin my ring?” Amelia calls out.

I jump, automatically hiding the ring with my hands even though she’s nowhere near me. “No.”

“Did you almost ruin my ring?”

So much for hiding. “Define almost.”

I hear her sigh from across the shop. “You know I could find a new nursery to order plants from, one without cute and distracting delivery boys.”

“Nah, you’d never do that,” Neel says, elbowing Ethan when he joins us. “You heard her call us cute, right?”

“I heard her call us boys,” Ethan says in a flat voice, earning a laugh from Amelia that cuts off when she has to answer her cell.

Amelia’s call is short and she beckons me over after directing Ethan and Neel to relocate the plants in, what seems to me, a pointless task.

“What’s up?”

She smiles at me, the kind that shows all her teeth and is the opposite of endearing.

“Oh no, what?”

“Mathias’s mom needs me to pick up Luis early today.”

“Okay...?” I’m not seeing the need for the scary smile yet.

“I was thinking maybe you could get a ride home with...” She lifts her chin toward Ethan and Neel.

“Oh, um...” My mind is whirling ahead to logistics about transferring and my wheelchair and a million other things that, as Amelia knows, I constantly have to think about with new situations. But that’s not the main reason I’m hesitating. Ethan is still being weirdly standoffish.

“You know,” Amelia says, giving my chair a gentle turn toward Ethan and Neel, “some girls wouldn’t hate being trapped in a car with a couple of cute guys.”

“I thought you said they were boys.”

“To me, they are, but I’m not single and seventeen.” She gives me another shove but I grab my push rims, bringing my chair to a sudden halt, and turn to look at her over my shoulder.

“Does Mathias’s mom really need you to pick up Luis?”

“I would never do that to you,” she says in all seriousness before a sly grin creeps back up onto her face. “But sometimes God provides.”