I turn my head in surprise, but she’s already looking down at her phone, the smallest grin still playing on her lips. The feel of them still hot on my skin.
I know that agreeing to this will be a huge mistake, but right now, it sure doesn’t feel like it.
Chapter 12
Brielle
Myfootstepsechointhe quiet stairwell. It’s almost weird coming straight home after work, alone.
I liked spending our nights together, getting to know each other, probably more than I should. I now know if he’s ever broken a bone (nose, age fourteen, fighting) and what he likes for breakfast (protein smoothie daily, occasionally poached eggs with hot sauce). And he knows that I hate my eggs poached (yuck), and I wanted to be a television weather reporter when I was little.
Holly was supposed to go out tonight, like usual, but I called in my bestie card, and because she’s the best, she stayed home with me. Which is good, because I’m pretty sure I would have had several nervous breakdowns by now without her.
“Ugh, what am I supposed to wear to this thing?” I groan. My closet looks like it threw up on my bed. Everything I own is scattered in various piles, but none of it looks right for a Maine activity retreat, and it’s only an overnight stay.
“Are you going to be doing any of the activities? Or is this a cozy, sit-by-the-fire-with-hot-chocolate kind of thing?”
I drag my hands down my face for the fortieth time today. “I have no idea. I think the ice fishing is just a guys thing, or I’m hoping so, at least. But I don’t know what else they have planned. The Vitales are really active, so they’ll probably have more things for us to do.”
“And how do you know these people again?” she asks.
I still haven’t told Holly the truth about Damian. She obviously knows that I’ve kind of been seeing someone, which is easier to explain than what we’re really doing. Building a fake-dating relationship with my boss in order to score an account has a bit more complexity than “I met a guy, and we’ve been hanging out.”
“They’re Damian’s friends,” I tell her.
“That hot guy who came to pick you up on Valentine’s Day is going ice fishing?” She sits up on my bed just to give me a disbelieving look, before collapsing back down onto the pillow.
“They don’t exactly share the same interests,” I confess.
Holly laughs. “Yeah, hot work guy doesn’t strike me as the outdoorsy type.”
I think back to when I said just the opposite at our Valentine’s Day dinner. It feels like forever ago, when it’s only been two weeks. Damian’s tense jaw, the flash of fire in his eye when I told them that he’s a big nature-lover, was as hot as it was scary.
I groan, dropping myself onto the pile of clothes strewn across my bed. I can lie and tell myself that I have nothing to wear that would be suitable for the colder temperatures up north, but the truth is that it isn’t the temperature on my mind as I dig my way through my wardrobe. It’s Damian.
My phone buzzes loudly on my nightstand, and I stretch myself out to reach it so that I don’t have to get up. My traitorous heart skips a beat when I see that it’s from Damian, although that’s not what it says on my screen. I changed his contact in my phone earlier this week. Wedon’t talk much at work, but the occasional text does happen, and I didn’t want Rui or Erica to see his name on my screen accidentally.
Valentine: We leave at 5:30.
My jaw drops. Is he serious?
Me: In the morning???
Valentine: Yes, in the morning.
Me: What? Why?
Valentine: It takes four hours to get up there.
I fall backwards, starfishing myself across the bed and Holly, my head landing on her shins.
“What’s up?” Holly asks.
“He wants to get on the road at 5:30 tomorrow morning. And I still have no clue what to pack for this thing.”
“Damn. You must really like this guy.”
“What? No. I never said that.” I hear the defensiveness in my voice. “We’re still getting to know each other.”
