Thank you, Cover Girl, for your ultimate coverage foundation, by the way.
It’s working, right? No red splotches shining through on my cheeks?
I swallow the lump down, racking my brain for a remark.
“Only for you.” I wink, satisfied when his face flushes redder than my signature Bad Blood lipstick. He swerves a little, then eventually takes the exit to the rest stop.
We are barely in Tennessee.
Myentirebodysighsin relief as I soak in the bubbling hot tub outside the Whimsical Romance cabin.
The six-hour drive to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, took us eight hours. After my fourth water bottle, Braxton refused to stop for me anymore. He sheds his I’ll-do-anything-for-you complex on long road trips, apparently.
His exact words to my inquiry about stopping to use the restroom were: “Hold it or I’ll pull over and let you go on the side of the road. Your choice.” My bladder is officially ruined for life. He could have caused me kidney infections or UTIs from that, and I was sure to let him know.
Mama called twice during the drive, and I didn’t answer. Guilt began tugging at the edges of my consciousness after I denied her second call. Did I do the right thing?
Too late now,I remind myself. I take a shovel and bury the guilt six-foot deep, glad I still haven’t told Braxton about her. He would have made me answer those calls and at least talk to Mama. He’d probably agree with Grandmama that I should leave her in jail, but he’d draw the line at ignoring her calls.
Trying to forget about Mama, I sink deeper into the hot tub. I booked this place for the trip—a one-room cabin for Cheater Daniel and me. The thought smacked me during one of our many stops, so I called the cabin owners while pacing a dirty gas station restroom floor. To my heart’s delight and my brain’s horror, they did not have a two-bedroom cabin available last minute.
I will be sharing a one-bedroom cabin with my best friend whom I want to desperately cuddle with and kiss and drown in comfort with. But I can’t because he deserves so much more than my brokenness.
Not that we haven’t fallen asleep together before on a couch when we were younger, but something has shifted between us. I can’t pinpoint the moment it happened, but it happened. My best friend, slowly, over the years, has wormed a place in my heart and set up camp. And now I’m constantly throwing those pesky feelings out the window every time they come creeping back in. Especially now that I’m single.
Thankfully, the couch in the living room also serves as a pull-out cot.
We definitely could have been on the road longer today. He fought me when I told him we had made it to the cabin by three o’clock. In my defense, I booked it thinking I’d be spending the evening in a romantic cabin with my boyfriend, not my best friend. Who I want to cuddle all—
My phone buzzes on the edge of the hot tub, pulling me from the thought zipping inappropriately through my brain like an annoying gnat.
Braxton.
“Hey, are you in the bathroom? The light’s on and I’m knocking, but no one’s answering.” His voice carries a tinge of concern. He went for a walk when we got here to check out the pond. The man will end up fishing it before we leave in two days.
Two days.
“I’m in the hot tub right now. Must have left the light on.”Please don’t, please don’t, please…
“Mind if I join you?” he questions, and I can hear the anticipation in his heightened voice.Oh dear heavens.Why am I so hormonal right now? Probably post-breakup energy.
“Come on,” I say through clenched teeth. Dear universe, please let him come out fully clothed. Like top to bottom baggy, boxy clothes.
But heck, he’d probably make that look good.
“Great. Just let me change and I’ll be right down.” Click.
I set my phone down, take a deep breath, and fight the urge to slide under the water.
Waterproof mascara only goes so far.
I close my eyes.
“Hey.” A man’s voice causes my eyes to fly open and I sit up straighter in the hot tub. He’s tall and well acquainted with the gym. His chestnut blonde hair is pulled into a man bun, but in a knotty, hasn’t-seen-a-brush-in-months way.
Not attractive.
“Hi,” I answer out of politeness. This is a public hot tub for the cabin residents, after all.
