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My cabin is literally a five-minute walk away, but something in my gut doesn’t want me to leave quite yet. I tell myself that it’s because I’m worried about her after last night. That I should probably stick around just for a little while. Just in case.

I follow her inside. Her cabin is set up similarly to my own, albeit a little nicer. Nicer furniture, appliances, flooring. It’s open concept, with doors for the bedroom and bathroom on the far wall.

Addison shuffles across the room, grabbing a glass from the kitchen cabinet and filling it with water in the sink. Then she turns and offers it to me.

“Thanks,” I say, grabbing the glass and taking a seat at the small dining room table. I take a sip, then stretch my neck back and forth a bit. It’s definitely going to be sore for a few days.

The moments stretch past, and it’s then that I realize Addison is being quiet. Abnormally so. I glance up to see her leaning against the kitchen counter, silently watching me. She looks away when we make eye contact.

“It’s okay, you know,” I finally break the silence.

Her gaze darts to mine, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What happened last night,” I clarify. She’s starting to look irritated again. Her default setting, apparently.But before she can go off on me, I continue. “My little sister used to have panic attacks as a kid,” I say. “I know better than most people that it doesn’t matter how strong you are; sometimes they just happen.”

Something in her gaze softens. Not by much, but enough. She crosses her arms, straightens her shoulders. There’s a long pause and then, “How’s your sister now?”

“Better. Good,” I answer. “Did a lot of therapy to get there, but she has a handle on it now.”

Addison gives a short, curt nod. Then her chin raises and she meets my gaze. “Just because I … come from where I come from, doesn’t mean I’m weak.” She swallows.

I think I know what she’s saying. She knows what kind of impression she’s had on me. City girl, stuck up, lost on her first day on the ranch, having a panic attack alone on her front porch. And she doesn’t like it.

“Didn’t say you were,” I answer.

Surprise flickers across her face. “Well, you probably thought it.”

I snort. “Annoying? Sure. Weak, no.”

This gets a laugh out of her, albeit a short one. She takes a deep breath, settling back against the countertop. “My parents … they want a lot from me. More than I can give them. And before you give me shit about being a ‘poor little rich girl,’ save it. I’d trade almost everything for them to just …” She trails off, as if realizing how much she’s truly divulged of herself.

Her comment about me giving her shit actually hits me a little. Maybe that jab about her designer jeans the other day was uncalled for. And in all honesty, I don’t know anything about her.

“Well, maybe this summer will be good for you,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “You sound like them. They’re the ones who sent me here.”

“I meant beingawayfrom them,” I clarify.

Understanding washes over her face, and after a short pause, shenods. “Yeah. Maybe.”

I finish the rest of my water and then stand. “I should start getting ready for the day,” I say, heading toward the door. I reach it, pulling the door open. But just as I cross the threshold, Addison stops me.

“Cruz?”

I look over my shoulder.

“Thank you.” She doesn’t meet my eyes when she says it, and she immediately turns her back to me, moving deeper into the kitchen. Even so, it might be the happiest a “thank you” has ever made me.

Chapter 9

Addison

I don’t leave my cabin for the rest of the day. I have enough snack supplies to get me through, so I simply take a shower, throw on PJs, and spend the day on the couch. My body feels wrecked from the panic attack last night anyway.

Plus, I don’t want to run into Cruz.

It’s always embarrassing to have an attack in front of someone. Buthim? My pride has disintegrated around me. And simply hiding away from the world feels like the best course of action right now.