One word. Final.
The certainty in his voice makes me feel steadier than I have in weeks. Like I’ve finally found a patch of solid ground under my feet. This job won’t solve all my problems, but it will definitely help in the short-term. The starting salary is twice as high as what I earned at the cleaning company, and the extra income can go toward my debts. With time, it could make a dent—even just a modest one.
“Thank you,” I tell Flint as we both stand up. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
He grunts in response, following me to the door. He reaches past me to open it, and I’m suddenly hyperaware of how close he’s standing, hulking over me like a mountain. My stomachflip-flops as I brush past him, catching his woodsy scent again as I step out of the office.
“See you tomorrow, Mr. Calloway.”
He scowls at me from the doorway. “That’s Flint to you.”
“Sorry…” I swallow hard, those steely gray eyes rooting me to the spot as I add, “Bye, Flint.”
“Bye, Willa.”
That voice makes my name sound sinful, and I shiver as I turn away, heading back toward the parking area. Dirt turns to gravel, crunching beneath my shoes, my whole body bubbling with tension. I swear I can feel Flint’s eyes burning into my back, all the way to my car. When I get in the driver’s seat, I chance a glance back toward the log building.
Flint is gone.
With a sigh, I turn the key and start my car, trying to ignore the pounding in my chest.
Stop it,I think to myself.
He’s your new boss. Nothing more.
But before I can shift into reverse, I see the door to the office open again. Flint comes out, axe swinging in his hand as he strides toward the tree line. He moves through the forest with the ease of a man who spends most of his time outdoors, like he belongs out here, wild and untamed. Thick muscles flex beneath his shirt as he walks, and the pale sunlight catches his beard, making the auburn streaks burn with life.
He reaches a thicket of fir trees, about to disappear from view. Then he glances back. There’s no time to look away. Our eyes meet and Flint stops walking. Time seems to freeze as we stare at each other. A second passes…maybe a minute…maybe an hour. Then the ping of a notification drags me back to reality with a jolt.
I look away from Flint and down at my phone to see a notification from First Encounters.
Congratulations! Your auction has surpassed $5,000!
I stare at it for a moment.
Good, I think.
This is good. This was the plan.
Except something has shifted in the last twenty minutes. Something I can’t explain. Even as I look down at the number, I’m struggling to feel the same certainty I felt last night when I hit submit and put my virginity up for sale. I find myself thinking about my new job instead—about the log office in the trees and the salary that is more than I expected. About the lumberjack who just took a chance on me.
Maybe I should take it down…
I could delete the listing right now. Pretend I never signed up for First Encounters. I could keep grinding. Leave my apartment when the lease is up. Couch surf or sleep in my car to save on rent. It would be rough. Years of working non-stop, sleeping for an hour or two when I get the chance. But I could try.
I reach for my phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. I open up First Encounters.
Then I pause.
I think about the debt collector who calls every Tuesday. The messages. The way his tone gets more menacing every time I answer. I think about the $80,000, the interest rising faster than I can pay, like trying to empty Sugar Creek with a teaspoon. I think about how grinding hasn’t been enough, has never been enough, and won’t magically become enough anytime soon, no matter how many hours a day I work myself into the ground.
I set my phone back down with a heavy heart. Then I put my car in reverse—not looking to see if Flint is still watching me—before I drive out of the forest without a backward glance.
4
FLINT
I don’t sleep.
