Sage reaches for my hand, but I shrug her off. Something flashes across her eyes, though I can’t read exactly what it is. All I know is that I don’t like her looking at me this way. I turn away from her and pull my pants back on.
“Wait,” Sage calls after me as I make my way out of the cabin. My body and mind are at odds. My brain tells me to leave, but my body wants to stay. I’m so confused by it that I pick up my pace.
I walk back to my house, reprimanding myself for being such a fool.
My feet slam against my driveway when I come to a sudden halt. Closing my eyes, I tilt my head up to the sky and groan in frustration.
Dammit, I forgot to strangle her.
Chapter Eight
Sage
Juniper Sage Blacksburg. Juniper Sage Featherstone-Blacksburg.
I can’t decide what sounds best. I write it down a few times in my journal just to look at it. I write it in print, cursive, and I type it out on my phone. No matter how I look at it or spell it, it simply doesn’t get old.
I can’t lie. After Travis sent me away in my sexiest dress, post–almost killing me with his car, I thought we were done. Maybe I’d been a little delusional and thought he was more into me than he was. But then he came to the cabin to fuck me, and now I know the truth. Travis is as in love with me as I am with him.
He just shows it a little differently.
I have to admit, he is kind of an oddball, but in a cute and special way. Travis plays to the beat of his own drum, and that’s one of the things I love about him. He is different, an enigma of sorts. He is guarded, and a bit of a recluse, I think, but I even like that about him. He is like an onion I plan on peeling back layer by layer.
Seriously, it feels like magic. Like something in the air is thick with opportunity. Anything feels possible. I could fly right now if I wanted to. All because ofTravis Blacksburg.
He left before we could talk about what happened, and I know I need to go see him. I just don’t know how yet. I thought about making him more cookies. Or maybe I could make him a nice home-cooked meal. They say the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but that’s not entirely true. The fastest way is through their cock, and Travis and I already have simmering sexual chemistry, so I have that base covered. I just have to lock down the stomach now, and I’ll have a ring in no time.
While I may be lacking ingredients in Ryan’s bachelor pad of a cabin, I’m sure Travis has plenty at home. So, after a little primping in the mirror, I make my way over.
It’s a beautiful day, so I consider a picnic. Maybe Travis and I can go to the cliff overlooking the lake with a blanket, a bottle of wine, and some toasted Brie on a fancy baguette, and fall in love with each other. He seems like a man who would appreciate a nice wine-and-cheese pairing.
Note to self: Learn about wine and cheese.
I knock on his door, expecting him to answer all grumpy like he always does. Now I know it’s nothing but a facade, and I’m slowly cracking that hard shell around him. I wait for a minute, and when he doesn’t answer, I knock again. Once more, I get no answer. I stand on my tiptoes to peek through the garage windows and notice his car is gone.
You know what? This is even better. Now I can surprise him when he gets home, the same way he surprised me.
Obviously the door is locked. Which means I need to sneak around the perimeter of his house and look for another entrance. I walk around, and all his windows are covered with blinds, so I have a hard time seeing through them. They’re all locked on top of that.
As I’m walking, I spot a privacy fence in his backyard, and I jump so I can see what’s over it. That’s when I spot the hot tub.How romantic!
Imagine Travis coming home after a long day out, wherever the fuck he is, walking through his house, all alone, just to spot me in his hot tub, completely naked. What a surprise.
I look around for something to help me climb when I spot a log that seems sturdy enough. I drag it toward the fence and carefully scale it, reaching for the top.
As I pull myself up, I feel the log fall from under my foot and roll away. I fight to get on top of the fence, thankful it’s at least a few inches wide to give me some stability.
I must look ridiculous, huffing and puffing while I struggle to swing my leg over. “And here we have the rarely gracefulLove-Sickus influencera, awkwardly trying to navigate suburban terrain while deeply, stupidly in love,” I say, narrating my life as if it were a nature documentary.
When I’m finally straddling it, ready to hop over to the other side, I realize my mistake. The other side is way too far down to just hop off without hurting my ankle. After the fall yesterday, my legs are already a little sore.
The only option would be to turn back. Well, at least it would have been if the log hadn’t up and rolled away. I’m stuck.
I consider just jumping down the way I came since it’s a shorter fall, but I’m afraid. What if I break my ankle out here? Sure, that would mean Travis might be inclined to take care of me, but I’d be sitting out here on my own, for God only knows how long, waiting for him.
Thankfully, I don’t have to consider my options much longer, because I hear his car pulling up the driveway. I can’t see him yet, but I’m hoping I will soon enough. It doesn’t take long before he is opening the back door to his house and walking directly toward me.
“Funny story,” I call to him, hoping it will break some of the immediate tension.
