Page 9 of Falling For Alaska

“I’m…I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone. Otherwise, I’d be buried in my books all the time.” She looks at me for a second, her cobalt expression a mix of honesty and fear.

Breathtaking.

She’s breathtaking.

“That’s brave. W-wish I were more like you.”

“You are,” she offers with a subtle curve of her lips, “You’re a newcomer in Lakeside. That’s already outside your normal life.”

“It is. Yeah. Sort of. It’s less, uh…rushed. People actually take time to t-talk to each other. I guess there are some downsides too, but…I get why people like towns like these.” I pause, surprised by how easy it is to talk to her. “You know everyone, and they know you. In Minneapolis, I…c-c-couldn’t even tell you my neighbor’s name. I mean, I can, ’cause I’m a cop and I need to know those things, but in g-general, people keep their distance.” I cross my arms, spasms running through them, electric current cutting through my voice and meaning. I wish I could turn it off, unplug it forever. Alaska doesn’t seem bothered by it, though; she hasn’t even tried to finish one of my sentences, which I appreciate. I glance back at her. “Is that why you s-stayed?”

“Um, yeah, yes,” she evades.

“Doesn’t sound very convincing.”

“No, it’s great. I’m good,” she says, the words sounding mechanical as she repeats, “I’m good.” Call it instinct or professional distortion, but I don’t buy it. A striding tone escapes from my watch. Five-thirty.

“I have to go back or I’ll be late for dinner. C-c-can…can I walk you back?” It’s getting dark, and I’m not really into leaving girls alone in the woods to fend for themselves. I’ve handled enough cases of female runners getting attacked in the streets, guess it’s not that different in the forest. You never know what lurks in the shadows. Better safe than sorry. And, also, I’ll get more time in her company.

“Walk me back?” She frowns.

“It’s getting dark, and you’re alone in the forest.”

“Oh, um, it’s nice of you to offer, but I’m good. There’s no beast hiding in the shadows. It’s Lakeside, we don’t have those here,” she says, giving me a sweet smile. I scratch the back of my neck.

“S-sorry to impose, but I really don’t feel good about letting you out here alone in the d-dark….” Being a cop with sisters makes you protective to a fault. Even if I know it can be annoying, I really can’t leave her here alone.

She sighs. “You’re really not gonna give up, uh?” Her attention flicking away for a moment before meeting mine again. “Okay…but can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Can we walk back in silence? Like, um…no talking?” Anyone else might find the request odd, but I’m not bothered at all. On rough days, silence is my companion. My hiding place. As strange as it sounds, I find comfort in it, like it’s a language I wish I could speak with others.

“Sure,” I reply, falling in step behind her as we turn back. The pathway is harder to navigate now that the sun has set, the dim light blurring the edges of the trail. She moves with surprising ease until we reach the rock I had to jump over earlier. She hesitates, lifting a leg to climb, but her shoe slips and she stumbles. Instinct takes over. Before I even think, my arms are around her, one hand gripping her waist, the other steadying her hand. Her whole body tenses like a block of ice. The scent of her shampoo lingers faintly in the cool night air as I hold her. Apple pie. That’s what she smells like.

“Got you,” I murmur, more to myself than to her. She doesn’t pull away immediately. For a moment, she stills and I wonder if I’ve crossed some invisible line. Then she shifts abruptly, like I’ve burned her, turning back to the path like nothing happened, even as the memory of her touch still sears my palm. We walk in silence back to the trailhead, the weight of it loud and heavy, a ton of bricks hanging above us. Did I do something wrong? I didn’t want her to fall.

“You’re good?” I ask as we approach our cars. She nods, fidgeting with her hands, looking down as she opens the door of her rusty red car with Hidden Treasures Bookshop written in round pink letters on the metal. She doesn’t reply, so I turn back to my car, keys in hand. Right before slipping out of sight, she calls for me.

“Jack?” Her voice is louder, hesitantly trying to reach an unnatural level for her. I turn to face her. She’s still standing, one hand resting on the top of her door. “Thank you,” she says and then disappears inside. Something stirs in my chest as I get inside. Saying she pokes my curiosity would be the understatement of the century.

Damn, dinner will be more interesting than I thought.

Chapter Five

ALASKA

A miracle happened. Just as I was about to fall, Jack caught me. And I didn't collapse or slip into a panic attack. My fingers clench the wheel of my car, daring me to dream of a better life. Only I know better. Jack seems to be a good person, absolutely not deserving of being close to me and my broken mind. What I’ve read in romance novels can’t bleed into my real life. Sure, it might work for another girl, the small-town heroine with a fake-dating trope, a golden retriever guy with no plot twists or no third-act heartbreak. That’d be easy, predictable. But despite cringing at the thought, I’m not like other girls. God, how I wished I was. A twenty-something book lover, running her own shop in a charming town, surrounded by friends and family.

It looks so good on paper. It really does.

Maybe that’s why it tastes so bittersweet. Because even with all the right cards in my hand, I can't let go of the past. The promise I made six years ago has sealed my fate. No amount of kind words or interest from a handsome stranger could undo it. What’s wrong with me? Flirting, or whatever that was, with this kind and ridiculously hot man?

My fingers circle the steering wheel, the moon shining right on my knuckles. The faint scars are barely noticeable now. Insignificant compared to the weight of that day. But I can still feel the icy water slicing through my skin, the metallic tang of blood in my mouth, and sweat stinging my eyes.

Sitting in my car, parked in front of Bella’s parents’ house, I watch the light inside, their silhouettes moving around the living room. They'll be better off without me. The world would be better off without me. I shut my eyes hard, liquid pain threatening to burst out of them.

I would have gone in if it wasn’t for him. But he’ll be there, talking, moving, breathing, and I will have to try my best not to stare, to try and fail to feign indifference when all I want to do is drown him in a sea of questions. And because he’s a good man, I mean that’s what I’m guessing from how protective he was an hour ago, I guess he would answer back, try to connect with me, learning about each other like normal people. Or maybe I’m just making movies in my head, but on my end, it would end in a crush. It already is. A hard, unyielding, desperate crush I have no business having.