LOST

by Lane Parker

  It was the same look she’d given me the last time she had ever spoken to me.

  She was horrified.

  My sister had taken me to the emergency room, and waited with me while they checked me out, and cleaned my wounds. I was mostly all right—some bruised ribs, a black eye, nothing that wouldn’t heal. At least, I was physically all right. Mentally? I was just checked out. I had all these fears, all this anger, and no clue what to do with it.

  And I had felt the rage seething from Liv, too. It didn’t stop when she took me home, and when she told our parents what had happened.

  As usual, my mother and father didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know whether they tried to understand, or they didn’t. All I knew is they didn’t lift a finger to make the bullying stop.

  Liv told me to just wait. “None of these people matter, Jamie. One day you’ll be on your own, a famous artist, and you’ll be happy.”

  “What about you?” I’d mumbled through my swollen, cut lips. “Why aren’t you on your own?”

  She’d sighed. “Can’t afford it yet. And no, I’m not happy yet, either. But I’m working on it.” She smiled, but her eyes were so sad. I could tell she was trying to put on a happy face for me. “You’ve got your dream, and I’ve got mine. You’re going to be a great artist.”

  I tried to smile back, but it hurt too much. “And you’re going to make the best cakes anyone ever tasted.”

  She’d ruffled my curly hair. “I’ll always save you a slice, Jamie.”

  She had made me feel better. In truth, Liv had been the only thing that had gotten me through those horrible years.

  And my situation improved…slowly.

  I got tall, and wide. I worked summer jobs after school in a warehouse, and it built real muscle. I experienced one of those growth spurts that seemed to make everyone reevaluate me. Especially the people who used to beat me up. Once I towered over them, no one touched me. During those years, I’d learned one very sad fact—bullies only prey on those physically weaker than themselves.

  I’d grown and filled out until I wasn’t a skinny little weirdo anymore.

  I was a big, scary weirdo.

  Liv had finally applied to a pastry school in Paris, took out a big loan, and left to pursue her dreams. I was so proud of her. I’d really wanted to visit her, but I could never save enough. I had to settle for postcards.

  I ran a finger along the worn paper in my hand. Like this one.

  One day you’ll be on your own, a famous artist, and you’ll be happy. I’d believed her. Until the day that I’d done something to scare her away from me entirely.

  After what happened… maybe we could never go back to being what we used to be. Maybe I’d never be happy without Liv in my life. Probably…not.

  The shower creaked again, and the water stopped.

  I heaved a huge sigh.

  Now there was this. Keeley was angry with me, for damn good reasons. I felt helpless, and angry, too.

  That was the weird thing. I shouldn’t feel anything at all. Because I never did.

  Maybe I felt responsible for Keeley because I’d saved her. I let out a grunt of disgust. I was pretty sure ‘responsible for anyone but me’ was what I came out here to avoid.

  I needed to get back to what I understood.

  Being alone.

  Being responsible for nobody except myself.

  And creating my art completely unencumbered.

  I moved toward the kitchen. The pancakes were still warm, and so was the maple syrup. I piled them onto the plate, poured the syrup, refilled my coffee and grabbed a fork. I took all of it outside and headed to my workspace.

  I needed to stop thinking.

  Chapter Seven

  Keeley

  James had been outside all morning. I could hear the chipping and sanding from his woodcarving, and the occasional grunt of frustration. Other than that, he was silent. He left me alone.

  And I was fine with that. I knew it sounded incredibly weird, especially considering the circumstances, but…

  I was actually enjoying myself.

  After I showered and dug out whatever extra clothes I was smart enough to put in my backpack yesterday, I made the bed and moved to the couch.

  Yes, that couch, where he’d… Well, I wasn’t thinking about that right now.

  I was drinking decent enough coffee. I was spread out on the couch with the window open beside me, a fresh breeze blowing in. I had put on one of my sheet masks—maybe I was smart to bring those, after all. I was reading whatever I could find, and most of it was pretty good.

  I had nothing to do and nowhere to go. No responsibilities, no deadlines, no phone calls.

  It was crazy. It only took being lost in the woods with no way out for me to finally relax.

  It made me think that if I’d just stayed at that beautiful cabin, I might have started to enjoy it. To relax there and get used to being alone, and the quiet.

  But maybe it had taken something extreme to get me to this point. I couldn’t begin to guess.

  All I knew was… I felt okay. My leg was sore, I was wearing a mixed-up mess of clothes, and I was stuck here. For now, I was good with that. I guess I had to be.

  Ignoring him this morning, being angry with him, was all still there in my mind, too. I was more confused than angry now. Mostly, I was confused by myself. I didn’t want to be here, but I liked it. I didn’t want him, but the thought of his hands on me made me feel hot all over.

  I had to stop thinking about how it had felt when he touched me last night!

  I went to the bathroom to take off the mask, and while I massaged the leftover serum into my skin, I grimaced at myself in the mirror.

  Get it together, Keeley. This is not how you meet new boyfriends. And this guy… is not right. In any way. You cannot fix a man who’s broken. You know that. Don’t even try it.

  But part of me said he wasn’t all that broken, that he was driven by some kind of past pain. It wasn’t the part of me that was turned on by him, either. It was something deeper that told me that James was wounded, but he wasn’t completely broken.

  I went back to the couch before I got into another argument with myself.

  I tried to focus on the book in front of me, something dense and emotional and Russian, but the words blurred on the page.

  If only there wasn’t this cloud hanging over everything. James, everything that happened last night, the things I didn’t want to think about kept creeping back into my mind.

  Maybe my ex was the right type of guy for me after all. He was nice. He didn’t confuse me. He let me know what he wanted, and when, and waited for me to reply with confirmation.

  It was… scheduled. It was kind of like work. It didn’t catch me off guard. It wasn’t frantic, and volatile. It didn’t feel like being burned.

  Which one was worse? Scheduled activities, or complete volatility? I had no idea.

  But there was only one man I couldn’t stop thinking about. And it was not my ex.

  Whatever. I pulled my legs up on the couch and turned the page, desperate to get back to the state of calm I’d experienced earlier.

  The door creaked open behind me. I didn’t turn around. Even though I wanted to.

  “Hey, uh… Keeley.” James said it softly, and something flipped in my stomach when I heard my name come from his beautiful mouth.

  “Yeah?”

  “Come out here for a minute.”

  What the hell? I turned around to see if there was anything I could read from his expression.

  This friendly, beckoning tone was new, and I had no idea what he wanted from me.

  I shouldn’t have turned around. God, he was gorgeous.

  His hair was wavy and dark, pulled back from his face, and his cheeks and neck were flushed pink from exertion. He looked at me with a kind of embarrassed half-smile, like he expected me to tell him to fuck off.

  But I couldn’t do that.

  He was so fucking masculine and compelling.
I hated it. It threw me off-balance.

  “Why?” My tone was suspicious.

  “Just…” He shook his head and walked over to me. “You won’t regret it.” He held out his hand to me. It was dusty and etched with little pink scars from his carving.

  You won’t regret it. Somehow I doubted that. If I could get out of this weekend stuck with him without regrets, that would be a serious accomplishment.

  But I took his hand anyway because I couldn’t resist. Not when he was talking to me so sweetly, which was yet another facet of his personality I’d never seen before. His rough fingers wrapped around mine, and he gently pulled me up from the couch. I stood close enough to him to smell the wood he was carving, and the fresh outside air that stayed on his skin.

  He placed his large hand on my back. It was warm between my shoulder blades, and I instinctively leaned into it. He urged me toward the door, and we walked outside.

  His purpose wasn’t work related because he led me past his carving table, and down a worn path overgrown with weeds. We pushed aside the bushes, and then he halted in front of me. He looked at me intently, and whispered huskily, “Be quiet.”

  I nodded, but I had no clue what was going on.

  He parted another bush, crouched low and motioned me to come forward. I crouched, too, and looked at him expectantly. I felt a twinge of pain from my injury, but I easily ignored it. I was too curious about what he wanted me to see.

  Past him, there was a dusty bank leading down into a small blue pond. He pointed across the water.

  On the other bank, there were two soft brown elk standing in the shallow water. Their necks were bent toward the water and they drank quietly. Water dripped from their soft snouts. If they noticed us at all, they didn’t feel threatened by our presence.

  It was such a peaceful image. Their slow, gentle movements made me feel calm. They made me think about my own life—how hectic it was, how I approached things with so much anxiety. I held on too tight; I tried to control everything. I had an app that counted how much water I drank for God’s sake. I couldn’t even do that naturally.

  I guess that Yasmin had been right. It was possible for my soul to be still and quiet. I was listening to my thoughts now, and they were telling me how much I didn’t like my life.

  But even now, I was ignoring what was in front of me. I couldn’t solve all my problems at the moment. However, I could enjoy the peace that watching the elk brought me.

  I turned to say something to James. I expected that he was watching the elk, just like I was. Instead, he was watching me. When our eyes met, he stared at me for a moment, and I saw his jaw twitch. He quickly turned his eyes away, toward the pond.

  It was the same look he’d given me when he’d bandaged my leg. That look that burned right through me.

  I still wanted him more than I’d ever wanted any man in my life. That was another problem I didn’t know how to solve, but I realized I didn’t have to. Not right now.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to James.

  He shrugged. “Since you’re here,” he said, his voice low, “it would be a shame if you missed it.”

  He was right. But it wasn’t just the sight of something I’d never seen before that I was talking about, what I was thanking him for.

  We watched the elk in silence. They drank deeply of the pond, and when they were finished, they slowly backed out of the water and walked into the woods, picking their way through the wild weeds.

  Eventually, we started making our way back to the cabin. I tripped over a root in the path, and James set his hand against my back again to steady me.

  “You all right?” he asked. He didn’t just sound polite. He actually sounded concerned about me.

  I swallowed hard. How long had it been since a guy had cared about my welfare?

  “I’m totally fine.” I stood up straight and pulled myself away from his hand, walking on ahead of him. I didn’t know what I was encouraging, and I wanted to avoid those regrets I feared so much. I only hoped he would keep acting human. Even if I wanted more… maybe I needed more… it was a bad idea.

  It seemed that I couldn’t really be around James without wanting more.

  He just came closer to me instead of backing off. “Do you, uh, need anything?”

  I stopped and turned to face him. “No. I’m good. I don’t need… anything.” Certainly not you. Not at all.

  What the hell? Now I was lying to myself.

  Right now, I could feel how lonely I’d been, and I’d never realized it. Yeah, I was around people all the time, but they always wanted something from me, except for my friends. My ex and I had been more like acquaintances who didn’t talk all that much. The passion—if there had ever actually been some—had been long gone.

  Don’t think about your strange connection with James. And for God’s sake, don’t think about the fact that one touch from him makes every cell in your body jump to attention.

  That was hard to do when I could hear his quiet steps at a distance behind me, like I was one of those thirsty elks he didn’t want to scare off.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t an elk.

  I couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there anymore.

  Chapter Eight

  James

  I was almost getting used to her.

  Sometimes, for a few moments, I would forget Keeley was even there. Okay. Yeah. I could always feel her presence, but it didn’t bother me that somebody was invading my space anymore. I’d been outside most of the afternoon, and she’d been quiet.

  Then, I would come in for water, or food, and I’d see her, her golden legs stretched out on the couch, and her slender fingers caressing the edge of a book. She would brush that beautiful, silky hair from her face occasionally. Watching her, I felt myself grow hungry, and desperate, my cock swelling to the point of discomfort.

  It took all my willpower not to walk over to that couch and finish what I’d started the night before.

  As for her? She didn’t seem to notice me. She kept to herself and didn’t ask for anything.

  She didn’t have to. I knew what she wanted—to go home.

  I’d tried to call the rangers a few times and checked on the emergency lines to see if there was any news about the rockslide.

  Maybe they’d gotten out there early.

  Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked.

  Every time, there was no news. We’re getting to it. Sit tight. They had enough to deal with without me bugging them. But I had to make sure we knew the latest. The radio was right in front of her, and it was a small cabin. She heard all my calls. She knew I was at least trying to give her what she wanted.

  She probably thought I was eager to hear something for my own sake, that I still wanted her far away from here. Like I had when I first brought her back to my cabin bleeding and unconscious.

  That wasn’t it. Like I said, I was getting used to having her around. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted her.

  I didn’t like it when she said she didn’t need anything. Maybe because I had the insane urge to give Keeley anything and everything just to see her sweet, genuine smile again. And I hated the distance that had been put between us because I’d either hurt her or pissed her off the night before. Hell, maybe I’d done both, and that was why she was so standoffish.

  I’d been alone too damn long. Acting like a normal person was never my strong suit, even as a kid. Now? I was basically a caveman. I ate and slept and made art. It wasn’t the kind of life most people would want or understand.

  It definitely wasn’t the kind of life anyone would want to share. I had nothing to offer.

  I’d deliberately designed it that way.

  I guessed that’s why I brought her to see the elk. It was a kind of apology, something I had that she might like. Something she’d probably never seen. A way to make up for being such an asshole.

  And it seemed like she had enjoyed it. Her eyes had softened, and she’d smiled wistfully as she watched the animals. That action had nearl
y melted my stone-cold heart.

  I couldn’t help watching her again as we arrived back at the cabin. She was so damn beautiful that it was hard for me to turn my eyes away from her.

  For the first time in years, I actually had the urge to paint. I wanted a way to capture all her colors—honey gold, cocoa brown, and berry red, warm and sweet in the sun.

  Maybe I would paint her when she left.

  You’re insane, man. Paint yourself a memento of a woman you hardly know? Yeah. Normal never was my thing.

  ***

  Night fell quickly. Keeley had been here over twenty-four hours. Just one more day and, if it went like the rangers said, she’d be gone.

  I wasn’t sure why the thought of her leaving gnawed at me until I was ready to snarl with discomfort.

  I asked if she wanted something other than sandwiches for dinner, if I could find anything else. She set down her book and pushed off the couch.

  “Let me figure something out,” she suggested.

  I didn’t want her to do that. She’d already made pancakes. I’d never even thanked her for that. And they’d been really fucking good.

  She came into the kitchen and started opening cabinets and poking around in my fridge. I sidestepped her and leaned on the counter. “I, uh, don’t have much here. I need to get into town for supplies.”

  “I’m sure you’ve got something.” She bent over, searching through my nearly empty refrigerator, and I wasn’t too proud to take a long look at her gorgeous ass.

  I wanted to remember that, too. Although I doubted that I’d actually paint it.

  She turned around holding a carton of eggs, and some bacon. “Is this bacon ridiculously old and gross, or is it okay?”

  I huffed a short laugh. “It’s okay.”

  “That’s a start,” she said, placing the items on the counter. “Thought I saw some spaghetti when I found the flour earlier…” She looked up into a tall cabinet and tried to stand on her toes to reach the highest shelf. She winced, and I felt like shit because she was in pain. Her leg still seemed to be sore.