Read Online The Other Boy by Hailey Abbott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hailey Abbott
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stage-whispered as they entered.
Maddy stifled a giggle and pushed open the tasting room door. A few sunburned tourists in shorts looked around as they entered but after a cursory glance quickly buried their noses in their glasses of wine.
“What do you think?” Maddy asked David in a low voice. He swept the room with his gaze, taking in the high, dark wood bar that stood at one end, the brass railing and fixtures, the stained-glass windows, and the thick, dark red rugs that covered the stone floor. He grimaced.
“I feel like I should be asking forgiveness for something,” he muttered back.
She nodded. “It does feel like a church—not like California at all.”
“Yeah, it actually makes me want to fall asleep, not buy wine.” He pointed to a huge leather couch. “That’s my nap spot right there.”
“All right, let’s go,” Maddy said, pushing open the door again. “I think they’d kick us out if you curled up on their couch.”
Back in the bright sunshine, they mounted their bikes again. “Okay, the next one’s about two miles up the road,” David said, standing up on the pedals. He glanced at Maddy, who was fiddling with her gear lever.
“You think you can make it, little girl?”
Maddy looked up sharply, her eyes flashing with momentary anger. Then she saw his laughing face and grinned. “No, can you cawwy me, big, strong man?” she asked in a little-girl whine. Without waiting for a response, she leaned low over the handlebars and pushed off, pedaling as fast as she could. She didn’t look back for the first mile, expecting at any moment to hear the hum of David’s bike approaching behind her. But she didn’t, and when she stopped for a breather after a mile and a half, she saw that he was still a couple hundred yards back, pedaling hard. He rode up next to her, panting.
“You know,” he said, wiping his damp face with the bottom of his T-shirt and briefly revealing a flat, chiseled stomach, “I wish you wouldn’t hold me back like this.
It’s really going to be a problem.”
Maddy tried to ignore his abs and concentrated on redoing her ponytail. “Sorry,” she replied airily. “I’ll try to speed up next time.”
They rode slowly, side by side for the last half mile.
The wind was still and the road was deserted. A lone black-and-white cow stared at them balefully from behind a rail fence.
A trickle of sweat coursed down the side of Maddy’s face. “Whew!” she breathed when they finally reached the hand-drawn sign of their next vineyard. She eyed the white squeeze bottle strapped to the crossbar of David’s bike. “Can I have some of that?”
“Sure.” He pulled the bottle from its holder and handed it to her. She tilted her head back and squirted a long stream of water into her open mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see David watching her. She took quick aim and squeezed the bottle hard, catching him right in the face.
“Hey!” he sputtered, laughing a little and wiping his face with his forearm. “What was that for?”
Maddy smiled with satisfaction. “For calling me a snob. Now we’re even.” She leaned over and stuck the water bottle back on his bike. “Shall we?”
The tasting room was just inside the vineyard entrance. “This reminds me of a Marriott,” Maddy murmured as they stared inside. The room was tiled in beige and white, with a light wood bar and some long, modern tables. The walls were partially glass, which flooded the space with light, but it hardly felt cozy.
“Actually,” David said, “the lobby of my grandma’s retirement home kind of looks like this.” His voice echoed against the high ceiling. The redheaded woman behind the bar shot them a dirty look.
“Look,” Maddy whispered, “we’ve made a friend already.” The redhead was polishing wineglasses while glaring at them.
She cleared her throat. “If you want to taste wine, you’ll have to show proper ID,” she called in a nasal voice.
“Shoot!” David
Maddy stifled a giggle and pushed open the tasting room door. A few sunburned tourists in shorts looked around as they entered but after a cursory glance quickly buried their noses in their glasses of wine.
“What do you think?” Maddy asked David in a low voice. He swept the room with his gaze, taking in the high, dark wood bar that stood at one end, the brass railing and fixtures, the stained-glass windows, and the thick, dark red rugs that covered the stone floor. He grimaced.
“I feel like I should be asking forgiveness for something,” he muttered back.
She nodded. “It does feel like a church—not like California at all.”
“Yeah, it actually makes me want to fall asleep, not buy wine.” He pointed to a huge leather couch. “That’s my nap spot right there.”
“All right, let’s go,” Maddy said, pushing open the door again. “I think they’d kick us out if you curled up on their couch.”
Back in the bright sunshine, they mounted their bikes again. “Okay, the next one’s about two miles up the road,” David said, standing up on the pedals. He glanced at Maddy, who was fiddling with her gear lever.
“You think you can make it, little girl?”
Maddy looked up sharply, her eyes flashing with momentary anger. Then she saw his laughing face and grinned. “No, can you cawwy me, big, strong man?” she asked in a little-girl whine. Without waiting for a response, she leaned low over the handlebars and pushed off, pedaling as fast as she could. She didn’t look back for the first mile, expecting at any moment to hear the hum of David’s bike approaching behind her. But she didn’t, and when she stopped for a breather after a mile and a half, she saw that he was still a couple hundred yards back, pedaling hard. He rode up next to her, panting.
“You know,” he said, wiping his damp face with the bottom of his T-shirt and briefly revealing a flat, chiseled stomach, “I wish you wouldn’t hold me back like this.
It’s really going to be a problem.”
Maddy tried to ignore his abs and concentrated on redoing her ponytail. “Sorry,” she replied airily. “I’ll try to speed up next time.”
They rode slowly, side by side for the last half mile.
The wind was still and the road was deserted. A lone black-and-white cow stared at them balefully from behind a rail fence.
A trickle of sweat coursed down the side of Maddy’s face. “Whew!” she breathed when they finally reached the hand-drawn sign of their next vineyard. She eyed the white squeeze bottle strapped to the crossbar of David’s bike. “Can I have some of that?”
“Sure.” He pulled the bottle from its holder and handed it to her. She tilted her head back and squirted a long stream of water into her open mouth. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see David watching her. She took quick aim and squeezed the bottle hard, catching him right in the face.
“Hey!” he sputtered, laughing a little and wiping his face with his forearm. “What was that for?”
Maddy smiled with satisfaction. “For calling me a snob. Now we’re even.” She leaned over and stuck the water bottle back on his bike. “Shall we?”
The tasting room was just inside the vineyard entrance. “This reminds me of a Marriott,” Maddy murmured as they stared inside. The room was tiled in beige and white, with a light wood bar and some long, modern tables. The walls were partially glass, which flooded the space with light, but it hardly felt cozy.
“Actually,” David said, “the lobby of my grandma’s retirement home kind of looks like this.” His voice echoed against the high ceiling. The redheaded woman behind the bar shot them a dirty look.
“Look,” Maddy whispered, “we’ve made a friend already.” The redhead was polishing wineglasses while glaring at them.
She cleared her throat. “If you want to taste wine, you’ll have to show proper ID,” she called in a nasal voice.
“Shoot!” David
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