Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“What’s that?” he asks, pouring water into the coffee maker. He grabs the pamphlet, his eyes roaming over the images. “The fuck?”
“Yeah.”
“If this is some joke to get me to—”
“Oh, shut up with your egotistical ass. I didn’t do this on purpose to see you if that’s what you think. I was set up.” His brows furrow skeptically. “Look.” I stab at the pamphlet. “Tory and Ashley rented this cabin for me to get away for a few days.”
“This cabin isn’t up for rental.”
“Obviously! They set me up! They knew you would be here and sent me here as a trap.”
“Why?”
“Because they hate me, that’s why. I had no idea you lived here. I just thought I was being sent away to heal or—uhm, get work done.” He stares at me, looking for deceit, which he won’t find. “Look at me like that all you want. But trust me, I never would have come if I knew.”
He grabs the pamphlet and inspects it further. “They created this pamphlet, convinced you to go on a trip to the middle of nowhere, and you went?”
When he says it out loud, it sounds sketchy and very unlike me. “Listen. I don’t care what you think.” I snatch the pamphlet from his hands and turn my back on him, shoving it into my laptop bag. “I just want to get the hell out of here and pretend this never happened.” Swinging around, I ask, “Where are my clothes? I’d like to leave now.”
I wish he would stop staring at me. It makes me feel things, and I can’t go there with him. “My clothes?”
“In the closet hanging up.”
“Great.” I walk off, opening two doors until I find the closet. I grab my things and disappear into the bathroom. Once I’m behind the closed door, I sink to the floor and cover my face. Humiliation causes my eyes to burn, and I try to fight back tears but fail. How could they do this to me? I sound like a broken record, but I simply can’t wrap my head around why they would do something so evil. They saw firsthand the agony I went through. I was a pile of wreckage for so long until, piece by piece, I rebuilt myself. And even now, I’m still not whole. I also can’t believe I stormed in here, acting like I owned the place when it was his all along. He has to think I’m completely mental. “God, I am crazy.”
There’s a knock on the door.
“I’m in the shower,” I say.
“I know you’re not. Open the door.”
“And how do you know?”
“For starters, the water’s not on, and I know you’re in there sulking. Open the door.”
“You know nothing about me,” I snap and stand, throwing the door open. “Oh. . .” Easton extends his hand, and I accept the mug of coffee—my second favorite liquid.
“Get dressed so we can talk. For real this time.” Then he’s gone.
I change out of his shirt, then decide against it, putting it back and hiding it under my sweater. When I walk into the living room, Easton stands by the window, arms crossed, accentuating his muscular upper body.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I say, grabbing his attention. He looks me over, sending a shutter of nerves through me.
“Why do you need to heal—”
“Please, let’s not. I’m already pretty embarrassed. Whatever reason Tory and Ash had for doing this doesn’t change how we both feel. I’d rather not hash out our past. It should stay where it is. Hopefully, the storm will let up enough to get back to my car. Or let me call a tow truck.”
He wants to argue. I can tell by how his jaw muscles tick like he’s grinding his back teeth, but he holds back and pushes away from the window. “Power lines are still down. No Wi-Fi yet, either. I can probably get to your car with the snowmobile, but that’s just to get anything you need out of it. Another round is headed our way. You’re stuck here for now.” He walks past me down the hall. Opening the closet, he grabs our jackets. “Put these on.” He hands me a pair of snow pants.
“Thanks,” I reply. “How long is for now?”
“Day or two. Week at most—”
“A week! No way. I can’t be stuck here for that long. I have work. A life to get back to. Christmas is next week.”
“Thought you hated the holidays?”
I totally do. “Well, I don’t now.”
He sees right through my lie. Shaking his head, he says, “Whatever. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“The snow’s only gonna get worse. Best we head out to your car and grab your things now unless you’re good wearing my shirts until the roads clear up—”
“Nope. Totally ready to go now.”
Easton chuckles under his breath and walks past me. “Then, let’s go.”