Nate hadn’t considered that visiting Helen and tracking down Lydia would be a risk, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d misjudged a situation. At least this risk didn’t endanger more than his emotions. He would have just preferred to realize he was risking more than his family’s overbearing attentions by coming home.
While the puppies snoozed, he adjusted his sling and made himself a cup of mint tea in the cabin’s tiny kitchen. The tea would warm him up, then he’d go up to the loft where his bed was and watch something suitably loud and obnoxious on Netflix. Something that would keep his mind off Lydia.
But he didn’t make it past the tea steeping before his thoughts returned to her because the reminders were everywhere. Even the cabin’s dark wood-paneled walls reminded him of a lean-to on one of the nearby trails. During the summer after graduation, he and Lydia had hiked out there a couple times since they couldn’t hang out together where they’d be seen. She’d liked to sketch the trees, the fallen leaves, the pine cones—anything she could find on the ground. The father of one of Nate’s friends had made and sold wood carvings to tourists, and he’d taught Nate enough to make him curious to try it. So he’d sit out there next to Lydia, occasionally shaving a tree branch but mostly watching her.
The way her deft fingers danced over the paper.
The way her brow furrowed in concentration as she struggled to capture something.
The adorable sigh of discontent she made when she became frustrated with her fingers’ inability to capture whatever greatness lurked in her head.
Even the so-called worst of her drawings amazed Nate. He’d compliment her skill—and mean it—and he’d show her his abysmal attempts at wood carving, and she’d laugh and tell him he simply needed more practice. But he’d never told her that the only reason he bothered was because it gave him something to do while he sneaked glances at her. Because he’d wanted to spend as much time with her as possible that summer before she left for college. Because he’d just won her over after all those years, and he didn’t know how to keep her thanks to circumstances beyond their control.
There had probably been less pine in the woods than there was in his heart.
His chest constricted with the memory, and Nate poked himself in the ribs. They were feeling much better, but were still sore enough that the pain could cut through his mental bullshit.
Yup, he’d really done a great job of screwing himself over by coming home, if Memory Lane was the road he was headed down.
Nate dumped his tea bag in the trash, and gingerly carried his mug up the creaky steps to the loft. By the stove, Dolly rolled over in her sleep, but the monsters remained conked out. No way would he be so lucky.
It was just nostalgia coupled with a strong physical attraction, he told himself. Their body chemistry hadn’t changed, but why would it have? No question everything else about them had changed, and that was important to remember. When he got his hat back, those changes would become clearer. He’d make sure of it. He’d grill Lydia on the last ten years if needed. And once he realized how different they’d become and that she was no longer his vision of the perfect girl, the physical attraction would relent.
Past would give way to present, and eventually he’d be able to leave the past behind.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Growing up, Alanna Martin wanted to be an astronaut, a doctor, and an actor--possibly all at once. After nine years of studying psychology, she somehow became a writer instead. This turned out to be the best career choice of all because she can work in her pajamas while drinking wine. She firmly believes in the power of fluffy books, long walks in the woods, and that there's no such thing as too much coffee.
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Paws and Prejudice Page 29