He smiled and patted his neon-yellow shorts. “Of course I am. You can join me, if you want.”

“You must’ve hit your head.”

“You can watch me, if you want.”

“You’ve spent too long in Hollywood. I have better things to do with my holiday than watch your muscles move, Mr. Reid.”

“You’ve noticed my muscles, though.”

She looked up again, her eyes narrowed this time. “Why, yes, Will. I’ve noticed you have the necessary anatomy to move, breathe, digest food, et cetera.”

He laughed. “Really? You digest food with your muscles?”

“Mm-hm. Your digestive tract has a layer of muscle that helps food on its journey.”

“You’re so smart, Abbie.”

“I’m so addicted to random YouTube videos, Will. Is that hot chocolate?”

He looked at the mug as if only then noticing it. “Oh, yeah. It is.”

“Is it for me?”

He grinned. “Now, why would you think that?”

And then she surprised him, which Abigail often did. Instead of pointing out the triangle of marshmallows or asking which milk he’d used, she said, “Because you don’t like hot drinks before breakfast.”

Will stared.

She waited, probably for him to say something in response.

He just stared some more.

She started to fidget, her gaze fluttering away from his, which was a sure sign she was blushing. “I mean,” she said, “I mean I’ve never seen you—”

She was about to take it back, and he couldn’t let her do that, because then he wouldn’t be able to ask any of the questions spinning round in his head. Questions like, “How do you know that?”

She rolled her eyes, but she was still uncomfortable. He could tell. “I’ve known you forever, Will. I notice things.”

Once upon a time, that might’ve made sense—but there was distance between them, these days, despite the friendship that remained. Years and miles and ex-husbands could do that to a friendship, even one as vital as a heartbeat, Will had learned. “For the last ten years,” he said, “we’ve seen each other only at Christmas and on birthdays. That’s not a lot of time, Abs. That’s barely any time.” Or at least, it didn’t feel like much to him. It certainly didn’t feel like enough.

But apparently it had been enough for her to notice that hot drinks on an empty stomach made him nauseous. Apparently, she’d noticed to such a degree that she felt confident in saying it out loud, like a fact, rather than a suspicion.

That meant something, right? That had to mean something.

Or maybe not. Because she shrugged and said, “I’m observant.”

And … well… she was.