Unlove Me

by T. S. Joyce

“You’re pretty darn cute, you know that?” he asked.

  “You should see Little Dillo. She’s the cutest.”

  “Did you just call your animal Little Dillo?”

  “I sure did. She’s thirty pounds of armored adorable. If you think I’m cute now, you should see me Changed.”

  “I would like that.” He’d said it so softly she almost missed it.

  Convinced she’d misheard him, she asked, “What?”

  “I would like to see you Changed.”

  Ava shook her head. “Oh, you don’t mean that. I was just teasing about you seeing her.”

  “Sure, I mean it.”

  They were almost to the Bronco, one of the last cars left in the sports complex parking lot. Under the tall street lights, the snow was falling good, illuminated by the gold glow. “The one time I dated a human, he thought he wanted the same thing. When I showed him Little Dillo, he changed his mind.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He started thinking it was wrong. Like he was…”

  “Fucking an animal?” he asked in a dark tone.

  When she looked up at him, his eyes were somber, and red was creeping up his neck. “Screw that guy. You aren’t an animal, Ava.”

  “That break-up happened right before Valentine’s Day.”

  “Aaaah, there is some of the trauma. I knew you were holding onto some hurt to travel all the way out here for an UnValentine’s Day celebration.” He released her hand, and a part of her was so disappointed. Her palm was instantly cold, and she missed that steady feeling his hand gave her. But before she could get in a good pout, he slid his arm over her shoulder and matched her stride.

  “I would probably like you even more if I saw Little Dillo. That’s not me blowing smoke. That’s just how it would be for me.”

  “Breaking. The. Rules.”

  “Oh, right. I would unlike you even more if I saw her. There. Better?”

  “Much better,” she teased. “Well, I unliked you more tonight when I realized you were a mother-freaking soccer stud.”

  Brock snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far. We just play for fun.” Suddenly he asked, “Do you know what Reed is?”

  “Uuuuuh, I think so?”

  Brock unlocked her door for her and helped her into the Bronco. “He never told me. I’ve known for years, but he won’t talk to me about it.”

  “Honestly? He probably won’t talk to anyone but Natalie about it until he feels the town would accept him. Look what he’s got going for himself here, Brock. Natalie is safe when the town doesn’t know. He’s safe.”

  “He’s safe to tell me.”

  Ava reached forward and ran her fingertip over his drawn-down eyebrows to smooth them out. “Maybe he will someday.”

  “I could tell he knew you were a shifter. The way he sniffed the air and asked what you are.”

  Ava shrugged. “That’s the way most shifters greet each other. Most of us aren’t this tight-knit community like humans have. We have to be wary and ease into friendships.”

  “That sounds exhausting.”

  She ruffed up his messy hair, dislodging the snow there. “You’re going to catch a cold, fragile human. Take me to Lodge 10.”

  The smile returned to his face, thank goodness. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Hey, Brock?” she said before he could shut the door.

  “Yeah?”

  He looked so handsome in his soccer uniform, standing in the snow, looking at her with such expectation and curiosity in his bright blue eyes.

  “I’m glad you would unlike me if you saw the animal.”

  Relief washed through his features, and the tension faded from his shoulders. “Can I tell you an unsecret?”

  “You can tell me anything.”

  He lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “I already unlike you, with or without the animal.”

  Chapter Six

  Happiness manifested in different ways for different people.

  For Ava, when she was happy, she danced. And she sang. And she got lost in music. For so long, music had only been a background noise for her during work while she built graphic design files. It was the static in the background as she let her creative side take over, but here, in Lodge 10, for the first time in years, she played music just to play it.

  She was dancing between getting ready, shaking her hips as she straightened her short hair, and when it came time for makeup, it was hard to stay still long enough to apply it while her phone ran through a random playlist of music she’d related to back in college.

  She almost missed the ding of a text message. Almost. Shoving the mascara wand back in its container, she looked at the glowing screen. It was a message from an unknown number.

  I broke more rules and pulled your number off the check-in information.

  She grinned and typed back to Brock. That’s it, I’m calling the cops ;)

  Haha, if you get me arrested, who will be your UnValentine’s Day undate tomorrow?

  Ava padded into the other room and sank onto the bed to respond. I have a back-up undate. A plan B, if you will. Send.

  What’s his name? I’m definitely going to fight him for you.

  Cornelius the Dandelion. Send.

  Okay, how can I compete with him? He’s a better listener than I could ever be. Admission, I am texting you to give you a heads up. I tried to bring you breakfast, but Gran robbed me.

  You got robbed by your grandmother?? Send.

  Yeah, she’s savage. Yanked the box of cinnamon rolls right out of my hand. Said she wants to talk to you. Stiffen that upper lip, girl, you got Gran on a mission, knocking at your door in three…two…

  Knock, knock, knock!

  Crap.

  With a sigh, Ava stood and made her way to the door. This went against the plan, which was to avoid his grandmother at all costs.

  Plastering a smile on her face, Ava pulled open the door. “Hello, Ethyl.”

  The older woman had her hair pulled up into a silver and white-streaked updo today, and behind her glasses, her intelligent blue eyes studied Ava, one gray brow arched up delicately. She handed Ava a box that smelled like cinnamon and frosting and a coffee that was still steaming. It was warm under her hand when she accepted it.

  “I made these for breakfast, and I stopped my grandson from bringing these out to you, because…well…I owe you an apology. And apologies usually work better if you come with a present in hand.”

  “An apology for what?” Ava asked.

  “For judging you. For making you pay for others’ mistakes. Brock has pointed out I’m stubborn and unforgiving many times over the years, but I suppose I never really felt that until yesterday. That boy lit me up after you walked out of dinner, and he woke me up early this morning to take me on a drive and talk to me about you and shifters. I’m supposed to teach him everything I know, but somewhere along the way, he grew up on me and is now teaching me things.”

  The woman’s eyes were misting up behind her glasses, and it pulled at Ava’s heart. She stood to the side and asked Ethyl, “Would you like to come in?”

  “Oh no, dear. You have a big day ahead, and I need to get back to the kitchen. I’m serving a big breakfast in an hour. We had a couple more people check in late last night and a busy day today, too. Apparently Brock’s UnValentine’s Day celebration is attracting guests.” She gave a small smile and shook her head. “We will have a full inn by four o-clock today.”

  “That’s great! More business for you and Brock.” Ava hugged the cinnamon rolls closer to her chest. “Your apology means so much to me,” she said softly. “And the breakfast. If you get too busy today, I would be happy to help in any way I can.”

  “Oh, you should be out there snowmobiling and drinking brunch mimosas and having fun.”

  Ava shrugged. “I work from home, and I’m alone all the time. Those adventures would be fun with someone, but I’m on my own. I would have just as much fun helping around here. Around people. This place is…paradise.” />
  With round, owl eyes, Gran blinked hard and looked about as stunned as Ava had ever seen anyone look. “Well, I could use a hand in the kitchen for breakfast. I’m a little behind. Even if you just bring the food out to the guests. And I’ll make sure you’re compensated.”

  “Oh, please, don’t pay me. I’m happy to help.” Ava grabbed her jacket and her purse and locked up Lodge 10.

  “Compensation doesn’t always mean pay,” Ethyl told her as they began making their way along the snowy pathway to the big lodge. “I have something else in mind.”

  Ava smiled at the new-fallen snow in front of her. “Okay.”

  Gran led her through the back door, down the hallway, and right past the front desk where Brock was checking someone in. When he looked up, his smile lit up his whole face.

  “Good morning.” His tone was all professional, probably for the guests he was helping.

  “Morning.” Ava couldn’t help the bounce in her step. She got to be around Brock today, even if he was busy working.

  He straightened up and unhanded the computer mouse, looked suspiciously at Ethyl. “Where are you two headed?”

  “She’s helping me in the kitchen.”

  Brock mimed cleaning out an ear. “Pardon me, I thought you just said you’re letting Ava into your kitchen.”

  “You heard right, boy. Breakfast will be in an hour. Let all the guests know.” Gran didn’t skip a single beat or slow down in the least. She just moseyed on into the dining room and disappeared around the corner into the kitchen.

  “But…you’ve never even let me in your kitchen,” Brock called out.

  Ava turned at the doorway to the dining room and shrugged. “I guess she likes me better than you.” Ha-ha, she mouthed.

  And right before she disappeared into the dining room, Brock gave her a wink that nearly buckled her knees. Steady girl, stay upright today.

  “Oh!” Ethyl called out, poking her head around the corner. “Brock, you have the morning off tomorrow to take Ava snowmobiling. I heard it’s fun to do with someone, not alone.” And there it was—the compensation for helping in the kitchen today.

  “Well,” Brock announced. “My workaholic grandmother just gave me a morning off work for fun. Start investing in warm socks. Hell is freezing over.”

  As the guests he was talking to laughed, Ava caught a glimpse of herself in a decorative mirror right outside the kitchen. Her cheeks were pink, she was smiling so big, and her eyes were bright green. She didn’t hide them, though. No point. Brock would take her sunglasses off if he saw her doing that anyway. She was struck, though, by something that made her pause and take a second look at herself in that reflection.

  She looked happy.

  Chapter Seven

  Gran made you a plate, and Roberto gave me a bottle of that white wine you liked yesterday.

  Ava put down the romance book she’d picked up from the small book collection near the hearth in her room tonight, and rolled over to her side on the bed. She cradled her phone like it was precious and read the text again. It was silly to miss a man she’d seen all day. Okay, they had both been busy, but he’d snuck to wherever she was over and over again…just showed up for a few minutes of talking.

  A thousand was the number of butterflies she’d had today.

  She’d watched his grandmother in the kitchen and had been in awe. At first, Ethyl only asked her to do the simplest tasks—hand her this, hand her that, take the food to the table. But after a private lunch away from the guests with Brock and Ava, Ethyl had loosened up and started explaining what she was doing to cook the potato soup. How to broil the steaks just right. How to season the green beans. Her little tricks to getting everything out at the same time and piping hot. At dinner, she’d trusted Ava more to help, and then insisted she go and enjoy the meal with the rest of the guests. It had been a long day, but a really, truly, good day.

  Are you done fixing the toilet in Lodge 8? Send.

  Haha, Gran told you. I don’t want you to fall too unhard for me, but I can also fix toilets. It’s a hidden talent.

  Is there anything you can’t do? Send.

  I can’t play ping pong to save my life. Can’t leave a job undone. Can’t wrap my head around ever losing this place…can’t get you out of my mind.

  She sighed and squinted at her dandelion, standing sturdy and strong in the pot near her window. “Cornelius, what are we going to do about this one?”

  She typed in a message to Brock. Where are you? Send.

  Come look out your front window.

  She grinned, stood, padded over to the window, and looked up at the one window that was glowing with light on the second floor of the main lodge. Brock stood there in a gray T-shirt and low slung black sweat pants, holding up a bottle of white wine and a wine glass, and wearing the cheesiest grin she’d ever seen. It made her laugh. She laughed a lot around him.

  He held up a finger, as if telling her to wait, set down the wine, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed away. He looked up at her.

  Her phone dinged. Tomorrow I’m going to do this unright and take you snowmobiling. But tonight I can’t sleep, and it’s your fault.

  How? Send.

  Because I keep thinking about you, right across the yard, and I know I don’t have a lot of time with you. I have leftover food that is still semi-warm, wine, and no expectations other than to ask you to watch a movie with me.

  Hmmmm. What movie? Send.

  I know this is a test. Die Hard. Nothing romantic, I’m minding the rules.

  Good man. I don’t know if you can see from there, but I’m already in my pjs. And by pjs, I mean a giant T-shirt and baggy sweats that make it look like I’m shaped like SpongeBob SquarePants. Send.

  Perfect. Don’t you dare change. Just put on your snow boots and come get your food, woman.

  But she had to know because she was scared. She had moments of terror actually, just small ones that went away fast, as soon as she got lost in his smile again, but this was intimidating to her. Never in her life had she felt this much about someone so quickly. And the thing about wary hearts—they could get cut deeper. Letting someone in was scary because she had been burned before. She knew the bitter taste of that poison, and she didn’t want to drink it again.

  Have you ever done this before? Send.

  Done what?

  Hooked up with a guest. She waited a full minute before she decided she needed to know and hit send.

  The response was immediate. Never.

  Ava Dennis, the next text said. Yesterday, you said I was like everybody else when I looked up your shifter information. I’ve never been so hurt by words. I can’t get it out of my head. If anyone else would’ve said that to me, I wouldn’t have felt anything, but with you? I didn’t want you to see me like everyone else. I’m not everyone else.

  I’m not everyone else.

  Those four words meant more than she wanted to admit. She believed him. Down to her bones, she believed he was different because he’d been proving that since the second she’d met him. He’d stuck up for her, introduced her to everyone around them, wouldn’t let her hide, seemed so proud of her. And this morning, he’d woken up before the dawn to take his grandmother on a drive and explain to her why Ava was okay. She’d never met anyone so secure in themselves, so steady, so confident in their path.

  A movie night with him sounded perfect. He wasn’t asking her to dress up and impress him. He was asking for a relaxed PJ party. So okay. She shoved her feet into her snow boots and pulled her jacket over her pajamas and made her way through the cold night to the main lodge.

  He was waiting downstairs, leaned up against the check-in desk, hair mussed, lopsided smile painting his lips, and looking like a million bucks.

  “You’re a catch. Why do you want to hang out with me?”

  Seriousness washed over his face, and he asked, “You want me to be honest?”

  “Of course.”

  “No UnValentine rules?”
>
  “You have three minutes, and then it’s straight back to UnValentine’s Day rules,” Ava teased.

  He huffed a laugh and scratched the back of his head. “Honestly, it’s been a long time since I could talk this easily to anyone. Or felt connected? I guess I don’t connect with people easily. I mean other than the polite customer service side I have for running this place.” He cleared his throat. “I’m messing this up, and you’re nervous about me. That’s why you’re asking, right?”

  Ava nodded and leaned against the counter with him, separated by only inches. “It’s intense.”

  “Your feelings?”

  She pursed her lips. A wise woman didn’t show her cards too soon. A wise shifter never showed her cards at all. But he was being honest, and she owed him the same. “I like everything about this place, and I think that’s because of you. You just make everything…easy.”

  “Another hidden talent of mine. Now, stop freaking out and eat leftover potato soup with me and watch a movie. And anytime you want to freak out and run, I won’t stop you or shame you. I’ll let you have your space, and then I’ll send you some adorably charming text a couple hours later that will make you unlike me again.” He nodded serenely. “I’m the man with a plan.”

  He was the man who was impossible to resist. He didn’t need to know that, though, so she announced, “Three minutes are up. Back to unromance.”

  With a chuckle, he told her, “After you,” and gestured to a set of stairs. “And before you get squeamish, you should know you are the first girl besides my Gran who has ever seen my apartment. I’m protective of it. The rest of this place belongs to guests, but this…this is for me.”

  She topped the stairs, opened the door, and froze, taken aback. It was like the dining room with beautiful, dark hardwoods on the floors and walls, a matching chandelier above the bed, and stone fireplace on the wall next to the small kitchen. It was just one big room and a door that probably led to a bathroom.

  “Ignore the mess,” he murmured, clearing a pile of work clothes off a leather chair by the bed. He looked around in a rush.

  With a laugh, she said, “What are you planning on doing with those? Hiding them? I’ve already seen them.” She pointed. “Under the bed looks good, though.”