A flush warms my face, and I push away the smile that almost surfaced. “Oh. Uh, yes. It was excruciating.”
He nods. His hand tucks back into his pocket. “I came to see if there’s any coffee left. My head’s pounding. I need my daily dose of caffeine.”
I walk toward the kitchen and nod for him to follow.
“Are you sure that’s the only reason your head is pounding?” I ask over my shoulder as we walk. He’s a few feet behind me.
He laughs again. “There might be more than one.”
I move around the kitchen, preparing coffee for him. He takes a seat at the island and waits. He doesn’t say anything, and I’m grateful. I don’t know how to talk to him. Up until now, I’ve only yelled at him.
I should probably wait for the coffee to be done, be a good hostess and all that, but I’m itching to get away from him. The way he stays calm while I’m upset unnerves me.
“Cups are here.” I point to a cabinet. “There’s creamer in the fridge.”
Cabin Seven watches me with shrewd eyes, and it feels like he can see all the way down into my soul.
“Would you like to join me for a cup?” His voice is warm, his tone hopeful.
“You need to stop—”
“I’m not married. How many more times should I say it before you believe it?”
My hands go to my hips. I take a deep, slow breath and shake my head. “It doesn’t matter if I do or do not believe you. It’s not my business. You’re here as a guest, so let’s forget how we met and move forward. Please reach out if there is anything more you need to make your stay more enjoyable.”
He opens his mouth to respond, but it’s too late. I’ve already pivoted, and my quick feet are taking me away from the kitchen and the man I can’t figure out.
The man I have no business figuring out.
5
Brady
I smell a bit like beer.I’ve already showered today, and I haven’t had anything to drink yet. I think it might be seeping from my pores.
Sad but true.
Following an afternoon of doing nothing, I’ve decided to venture out of my cabin and go for a walk on one of the trails around the property. Aside from getting coffee from the main house this morning, I haven’t been out since I arrived a few days ago.
It turns out licking wounds is boring. And lonely. And I’m not really sure it helps anything. I don’t feel any better here than I did in Chicago. Hearts ache no matter where you take them.
My shoes kick up some brush on the outside of the path, and the tall, thick trees filter sunlight so that my arms appear dappled. There’s no denying it’s gorgeous here, or that it’s as peaceful as the website promised.
Although the website failed to mention the heart-stoppingly gorgeous, angry woman who would be here. I haven’t figured it out yet, but she’s connected to the owner somehow.
How was it possible that the airport girl was headed to the exact same place as me? I think I might have bad luck.
First, Lennon chooses my best friend Finn over me.
Then, the first woman to pique my interest turns out to be stubborn and irate.
Supposedly bad luck comes in threes, so what the hell is going to happen next?
I look down at the piece of paper in my hand. When I checked in here, the owner, Louisa, gave me a photocopied map and pointed out a lake on the property. She said it’s public, but a section of shoreline is for her guests only.You’ll see the signs, she pronounced, in that cocksure, irreverent style of hers. She waved her hand in a way that relayed how, through just that single interaction, she believed me to be intelligent enough to manage her property on my own.
The map is hand drawn, I’m guessing by Louisa. It’s incredibly accurate. Every twist and turn in the path is reflected on the paper.
After ten minutes of walking, I spot the lake in the distance. It reminds me of the lake behind Finn’s cabin in Arizona. It feels like a lifetime ago I was there with him and Lennon. In reality, only eight months have passed since that fateful day, the one that caused Lennon to finally choose between us.
