“I’m so tired of him,” she says quietly. “So tired of all of this.”
I don’t say I understand. I don’t say I get it.
But I do.
More than she knows.
“You ever think about changing your locks?” I ask.
She snorts softly. “He doesn’t have a key or code. He just… knows where I live. And how to make dramatic entrances.”
“Drama’s not a crime,” I share. “Trespassing and harassment is.”
She gives me a look. “You a lawyer now?”
I let out a rumble that might be a laugh. “Not even close. Just a man who’s dealt with his fair share of trouble.”
“That I believe,” she says, scanning my leather, my scars. “You don’t look like you sell insurance.”
“I’d get bored as hell if I did,” I share with a laugh. Instantly, everything lightens between us. She relaxes and I take in her beauty. From her eyes that are mixed flakes of color almost making her eyes so blue they are gray and her blonde hair in a messy bun, to the curves of her body underneath her fitted t-shirt and jeans. She fills it out nicely.
For a moment, we just stand there in the entry, two strangers who just shared a pretty intimate moment in front of a third party who had no right to be there.
“This your first time up in these mountains?” she asks, slipping into host mode like a survival tactic.
“First time in this cabin,” I state the obvious on that. “Been through the area on the bike before. Usually passing through, not stopping.”
“Well, there’s a binder with all the important info on the table,” she says, nodding toward it. “Wi-Fi password, heating instructions, where the extra blankets are. Local restaurants, hiking trails. That kind of thing.”
I glance at the binder. “I’ll take a look.”
“If you need anything, message me through the app,” she adds quickly. “I usually respond fast. I, um,” She gestures vaguely toward the driveway. “I was actually on my way out. I wasn’t supposed to be here when you got here. I just forgot something.”
Her gaze darts to the window, where my bike is still parked.
“You’re riding that in this weather?” she asks, disbelief and maybe a little admiration creeping into her tone.
“Plan is, yeah.”
She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her mouth for the first time. “You bikers are insane.”
I laugh coyly. “Mostly.”
She gives me a once-over, eyes flicking from my boots to my cut and back to my face.
I smirk. “What can I say? Sanity is overrated.”
Silence settles again, but it’s different now. Less electric, more awkward. Charged, but not with fear.
I jerk my chin toward the door. “You should get wherever you’re going before it gets colder.”
Her gaze flicks to the sleeping bag she left crammed in the front passenger seat of her car. She flushes.
“Right,” she states coming back to the moment. “Yeah.”
She reaches for the doorknob, then pauses and looks back at me.
“What you did,” She swallows. “Out there. I don’t know if it’s this way everywhere, but around here, a lot of men would’ve just watched. Or told me to calm down. Or taken his side.”
