Read Online Humbug by Joanna Chambers - Free Book Online Page B

with someone who actually wanted to spend time with me, anyway.
    I glanced at Rob.
    He’d been planning to ask me out. He’d liked me. It seemed unbelievable, even now after I’d had a bit of time to get used to the idea. I was okay looking, but he really was stupidly handsome. He was a catch; anyone would say so, and in a quite different league from me, even if he couldn’t see it for himself.
    As though he sensed my gaze on him, he flicked me a quick look.
    “You’re being very quiet,” he observed before glancing back at the road.
    “So are you.”
    He made an amused noise of agreement. “I’m still mortified,” he admitted. “About what Tim said back at the house.”
    “Well, you don’t need to panic,” I reassured him. I sighed. “I’m not sitting here thinking you’re interested in me.”
    Another quick glance, but this time he was frowning. “What do you mean by that?”
    I averted my own gaze out the window. I could force the words out but I couldn’t look at him while I did it. “I’m flattered that you were interested in me when we first met,” I began. “I mean—look at you.” I waved my hand in his direction. “But now you know what I’m like and…”
    “And?” Rob prompted.
    I sighed. “And you think I’m a dick. And you’re right, okay? I get it.” I stared miserably out into the blackness. “I get it now.”
    For several long moments there was a tense silence, then I heard the clicking of the indicator. The car slowed, swooping into a parking space at the side of the road, and stopped. The engine cut off.
    “Quin.”
    I didn’t move. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Rob. I needed the cold hard glass of the passenger window against my temple, grounding me.
    I wasn’t planning on saying anything more, so it was as much of a surprise to me as to Rob when I blurted, “I can’t expect anyone else to like me when I don’t even like myself, can I?”
    “Oh, Quin,” Rob said, and this time he sounded sad. I felt the sudden warmth of his hand stroking my shoulder, just a brief touch before he withdrew, but comforting for all that.
    And right then, in that moment—I decided.
    “I’m going to leave,” I said. I blinked. My own words had surprised me, even though it was where my thoughts had been leading just before Rob stopped the car.
    “Leave where?” Rob asked. He sounded—careful. “Manchester?”
    I shook my head. “Quicks,” I clarified. Then, after a brief, terrifying pause, “Probably the whole consulting game. I’m not sure it’s good for me.”
    “In what way?”
    I admitted the truth, though I could only manage to do so in a whisper. “I think it brings out the worst in me.”
    I risked a look at him then. He was watching me, his expression calm, with just a touch of concern.
    “It’s not as if my dream in life was to be a management consultant,” I said.
    He smiled at that. “What was your dream?”
    I gave a short laugh. “You won’t believe me when I tell you.”
    His smile deepened. “Try me.”
    “A maths teacher,” I admitted. “Can you imagine it? Me, working with teenagers?”
    He canted his head to the side and considered me. “I can, actually. You’re very good at breaking complex things down, explaining them simply. I think you’d be a good teacher.”
    The simple niceness of that made me sort of crumple up inside, gratitude mingling with embarrassment and maybe a touch of incredulity. I wanted to believe him but somehow I couldn’t be sure he was being sincere.
    Why was hope so painful? “The kids would probably hate me,” I said huskily.
    “Sarky bastard like you?” he replied, mouth quirking up to one side. “Nah, they’d love you.” He paused then asked, “Is that what you did your degree in? Mathematics?”
    I turned to him fully, shifting in my seat so that my body faced him. “Yeah. I was all set to start teacher training after graduation but one of my friends dragged me along to a recruitment fair and