25
Abigail wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, without realising she had paint on it. When she turned to Scott, he laughed. “What?” She felt like flicking paint at him for teasing her. He pointed at her. “What is it?”
Scott stepped up to her, pulled a rag out from his pants pocket and wiped her forehead. “You’ve got paint on the back of your hand. Look.”
She felt silly, blushed. Abigail could not recall the last time she’d blushed. It had to be coming back to Ridgmont that did it, that regressed her back to her teenage years. “Thanks.” When he took the rag away, she could still feel his fingers on her skin. “You’ve saved me from looking stupid later.”
Standing so close to him brought memories flooding back. “You know where we’re standing, right?” She looked down at the hay-co
