by Kelly, Hazel
“Are there towels in the bathroom or-”
“You want to shower here?”
“Sure, why not?”
She pursed her lips.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I wasn’t going to suggest you give me a sponge bath or anything.”
Her eyes grew wide.
“Unless you want to.”
“Do you always invite yourself to shower in other people’s houses?”
“Only people who I don’t think will be offended by my nakedness.”
She swallowed.
“If you’re really not comfortable with it-”
“No,” she said. “It’s fine. There are bath towels under the sink in the upstairs bathroom.”
“Great.” I picked up my mock sangria and drained it before setting the glass back down. “You’re obviously welcome to join me by the way.”
“No thanks,” she said. “I got a shower this morning.”
“I bet you did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” I said, thinking back to last night.
Her cheeks flushed.
I walked over to the front door and took my shoes off, setting them at the edge of the porch. Then I took my shirt off, slung it over the railing, and undid my belt.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
“I don’t want to track my dirty clothes in your boss’s house,” I said, pulling my jeans down.
She covered her forehead with her hand.
When I was stripped down to my boxers, I turned to face her. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?”
“I’m absolutely positive.”
I smiled. It was twisted how much I enjoyed watching her squirm. “Okay,” I said. “It’s up to you. I was just trying to be a gentleman.”
Chapter 8: Addison
I can’t believe I was actually worried I might not see him again.
How ridiculous!
Now that he’d shown up and reminded me of how completely pompous, entitled, and obnoxious he was, I realized there was no reason to be concerned.
I mean, who showers in other people’s homes?! Part of me wanted to tell him it was entirely inappropriate for him to do something like that, but then I remembered what I did last night and realized I didn’t have a leg to stand on.
Why would I let him fuck me senseless and not let him use my shower? It wasn’t even my shower.
And for him to invite me like that?! Honestly, the sangria wasn’t that strong!
Did he think I was going to sleep with him again if we went to dinner tonight?
Did I think that?
I didn’t know what I thought, and it was so unlike me I didn’t recognize myself. Making decisions and being decisive was a strength of mine. But I normally had all the information I needed… or at least I could make an educated guess based on the information I had.
But in this case, I didn’t know what I wanted or how to play the situation because this guy was a total wild card.
Even the way he looked when he was covered in sweat and soot made me uneasy. Like how could he be so dirty and so attractive at the same time?
I was usually the kind of woman that appreciated fine tailoring and a man who took care of his hands. I mean, the last guy I let buy me a drink had a membership to a place where they trimmed his hair and nails while he enjoyed Heinekens on the house as part of an all you can groom monthly subscription plan.
Of course, that guy was so painfully dull I thought about work for the entire happy hour until I finally felt like I’d given him enough of a chance that I could reasonably excuse myself.
But Wyatt was the opposite of that guy. He was exciting. Even when he kept his mouth shut and just sat there looking rugged enough to have his own calendar, he had my full attention. And he was so snarky I felt like I couldn’t let my guard down for two seconds.
Cause god forbid he goes and does something like stripping down on the front porch?! Did he have a license for those abs? I shuddered to think of how they probably flexed as he railed me last night.
Clearly, he didn’t have any regrets about it, though, or he wouldn’t have shown up today. Which was flattering… even if I was feeling a little Rapunzel-like in terms of my isolation and the fact that I was so susceptible to his whims.
But at least something interesting was going on up here because I could only listen to the birds, read, and stare at the lapping lake for so long. And it was nice to have something besides my job occupy my thoughts for a change, though I had no idea how so many people juggled dating and careers. Just thinking about trying to have both was exhausting for me.
Fortunately, I was in a lucky position. I could have some harmless fun with Wyatt to kill time on my woodland retreat, and then I could go back to making things happen in the city. After all, that was the goal that could provide me with the security and happiness I needed.
However, I was kind of freaked out when he asked me about whether I wanted the picket fence and two point five kids. I couldn’t think of a quicker way to slam the door to my dreams in my face than to settle down with someone I had to take care of while popping out babies that I wouldn’t have a clue what to do with.
But I knew better than to tell him that. In my experience, the few times I had admitted to people I didn’t want kids, they immediately assumed I was some kind of monster. Which was totally unfair. Just because I wasn’t interested in fostering my maternal instinct didn’t make me a horrible person.
I mean, I had my reasons. People just didn’t want to hear them.
They would rather label me an unfeminine, heartless bitch than hear about how the foster care system failed me. And I couldn’t blame them.
But as far as I was concerned, my decision not to have children was the most compassionate, informed one I’d ever made in my entire life. Too many people had made sacrifices and compromises on my account as it was. The least I could do was make sure all that unhappiness ended with me instead of dragging my pain into another generation by trying again to have a childhood through someone else. Yuck.
I also didn’t see the point in telling Wyatt what my doctor said about my heart. After all, he was still essentially a one night stand, even if he had shown up again tonight wanting who knows what besides a shower and to be incredibly ungrateful about the fact that I tried to feed him.
Besides, I didn’t need to know his medical history to hang out with him. I was sufficiently convinced by his performance last night that he was plenty fit enough to handle my attention for a while.
And after what happened in the front room of the cabin less than twenty four hours ago, the last thing I needed to do was make myself even more vulnerable by telling him that I wasn’t as young and healthy as I looked and that, on the contrary, my heart was broken- not from neglect, but from self-abuse.
No. He didn’t want to know about that. For all I knew, he didn’t want me to speak at all. If anything, he was probably just acting out some adolescent fantasy about screwing around with a girl from the city. Or a redhead. Or who knows? It didn’t concern me.
If letting him think I was someone I wasn’t would help me keep some pathetic semblance of control over the situation, then I was happy to maintain the illusion.
When the door swung open, I turned and looked across the porch.
Wyatt was standing in a towel, which was wrapped so tightly it hugged the perfect curve of his ass. Meanwhile, he’d towel dried his hair, but it was still damp and wild above his shoulders.
I swallowed.
He didn’t look at me. Instead, he bent over, pulled his keys out of his jean pocket and walked towards his truck.
I stared at his butt while he reached in his backseat. When he closed the door, he had a clean shirt in his hands.
He kept it balled in his fist as he walked back to the porch, and it took everything I had not to stare at the v poking out of the top of his towel.
After he climbed the stairs, he put the c
lean shirt on and picked up his jeans.
“Was everything okay for you?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “I feel much better, too, thanks.”
“Good,” I said. “God forbid you leave a negative review on Tripadvisor.”
“Are you ready to go or are you going to put a bra on?”
“Excuse me.” I leaned my neck back. “I’m wearing a bra,” I said, snapping the strap against the top of my shoulder.
“Oh,” he said. “My mistake. I must have imagined that you weren’t.”
Chapter 9: Wyatt
“Yes. You must’ve,” she said, standing up. “But I would like to change before we go.”
“Sure.”
“Feel free to help yourself to some rice cakes,” she said, opening the door.
“Can I top up your drink?” I asked.
“If that’s your way of asking if you can top yourself up, go right ahead.”
“Thanks,” I said, putting my hand above hers on the edge of the thick wood door and holding it open.
I watched as she crossed the room, laid a hand on the bannister, and started up the stairs, her hips swaying as she put one bare foot in front of the other. “I’ll try not to think about you getting naked up there.”
She turned around and squinted at me. “That would be very civilized of you.”
“But if you need any help-”
“Why don’t you make me that drink after all,” she said, continuing up the stairs. “It’ll give you something to do so your mind doesn’t wander.”
I shook my head. Making her sweet, alcoholic drinks was about as far from an activity that would inspire me to have clean thoughts as I could imagine.
I got dressed in the front room and took my towel outside. After I hung it on the porch railing to dry, I grabbed both our empty glasses and headed for the kitchen.
The wine was already out on the counter beside the sink, and I set the glasses beside it. Then I went to get the cranberry juice from the fridge.
Addison wasn’t kidding. The food in the fridge was so healthy it made me cringe. Clearly her boss hated her guts. Besides the wine, the most indulgent item in the fridge was a family sized pot of low fat yogurt.
Even a hungry bear wouldn’t bother with the measly offerings she had in the house. This had to be corrected or she would starve.
And then I got an idea for what we could do for dinner.
I made our drinks and plonked some ice cubes in the glasses.
Then I went back out to the porch because I knew the only way for me to guarantee that I stayed on my best behavior was to put some distance between us.
I was halfway through my drink when she opened the door.
“You look nice,” I said. I normally thought capris were stupid, but she had long enough legs to pull them off. And between the tease of her ankle and the way her collarbone showed in her scoop necked shirt, I was already dying to see more.
“Thanks,” she said. “I wasn’t sure where you wanted to go so-”
“You can wear whatever you want where we’re going. It’s totally private.”
“What?”
“So if you want to put on something sluttier…”
“No,” she said, crossing her arms. “I don’t want to put on something sluttier, thanks.”
“Your call,” I said, leaning forward and scooting her drink towards her.
She walked over and sat in the chair beside mine. “What do you mean where we’re going is totally private?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ll like it. I promise.”
“Just tell me, please.”
I leaned back and rested my drink on my knee. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got some serious trust issues?”
“Yeah,” she said. “All the time.”
“Why do you suppose that is?”
“Cause my life has been full of bad surprises.”
Something in her eyes made me not press the issue. “I didn’t mean to upset you-”
“You didn’t. I just want to know where we’re going.”
“Fine,” I said. “Whatever will make you relax.”
Her shoulders dropped two inches. “Sorry. I just- I’m not used to going with the flow. I usually call the shots.”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with me calling the shots last night.”
“That’s cause I was-”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, come on,” I said. “What were you going to say? Cause you were what?”
“I don’t know, okay. I just wasn’t myself.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I really liked whoever you were.”
Her eyes flashed in my direction, and then she turned her attention to her drink.
“Anyway,” I said. “I thought we’d have a picnic.”
“A picnic?”
“Yeah.”
She furrowed her brow. “Like with a blanket and a basket?”
I shrugged. “More or less. I thought it might be a nice change of pace for you.”
She stared at me over the edge of her glass.
“You probably go to restaurants all the time. I thought it might be fun.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you go to restaurants all the time or if picnics are fun?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been on a picnic.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Ever?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“I mean, I’ve taken food to go and eaten it in the park-”
“Uh-huh.”
“But I don’t think I’ve ever deliberately bought food with the intention of eating it on the ground.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Seriously, I’ve been going on picnics for as long as I can remember.”
“You?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re telling me you picnic all the time?”
“All the time.”
“Huh.”
“Well, it’s settled,” I said, smiling. “We’ll pop your picnic cherry tonight.”
She swallowed.
“Sound good?”
“I guess if you’re the world’s picnicking expert, I might as well try it with you.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She sighed.
“It’s going to be fun,” I said. “No heavy sighing allowed.”
“If you say so.”
“What do you do for fun in the city if you don’t picnic?”
She laughed. “I don’t really have that much downtime,” she said. “But I guess when I do go out, it’s to eat or get drinks with friends.”
“Friends who hate picnicking?”
“I don’t know. We’ve never talked about it, but I imagine the amount of pigeons would interfere with my ability to enjoy it.”
I shook my head. “I want to understand where you’re coming from, but I’m a simple pleasures kind of guy.”
“So I’m beginning to understand.”
“I guess you need picnicking 101 lessons then, huh? That way you can bring the lost art back to your city friends when you go.” The thought of her leaving made my guts clench.
“How complicated could it be?”
“Well, in our case, we have to be pretty strategic because we’re going to go directly from the store to the location.”
“So we need foods that require minimal prep.”
“Exactly.”
“And maybe wine with a screw top.”
“See? Planning is essential.”
“And where are we going to get these items?” she asked. “I can only imagine we’ll be limited by what’s on offer around here.”
“Good point,” I said. “We might be better off deciding en route.”
She tilted her glass over her mouth and drained her sangria.
I watched her throat move as she glu
gged it down, thinking about how much I wanted to kiss her there and everywhere again, how much I wanted to make her forget herself like she had the night before.
She set her empty glass down. “Well, I’m ready to go if you are.”
“Say no more,” I said, pulling my keys from my pocket. “Your chariot awaits.”
She reached for my empty glass and I lifted it towards her, holding it a little longer than necessary so she’d be forced to meet my eye.
I wanted her to know that I could see her, that I could see there was more to her than she was letting on, that I could see she was holding back.
And I couldn’t wait to unravel her again.
Just like I did last night.
Chapter 10: Addison
Being in the grocery store with Wyatt felt strangely domestic, if you could even call it a grocery store. I mean, it was about five aisles in total and one of them was all fishing gear. There were even worms in the cold food section by the eggs.
“You aren’t some kind of meat hating vegan snob are you?” he asked, coming around the corner with a plastic orange basket.
“No,” I said. “Though I’d be pretty offended right about now if I was.”
We rounded the corner into the snack aisle and an old man nearly ran into me, but before he did, he jumped back and tipped his worn baseball hat.
I caught up with Wyatt two steps later just in time to see him throwing some tortilla chips in his basket.
“Chips, huh?”
“I assume you like spinach dip?” he asked, wrapping his hands around a jar. “I was thinking that could be one of our starters.”
“I do, yeah.”
“Figures.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“All women like spinach dip.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. And hummus.”
“What else do women like?” I asked. “Since you’re the expert.”
He shrugged. “Chocolate and having shiny hair.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sounds like your knowledge is limited to what you’ve learned watching commercials.”
“Not entirely,” he said. “But all women are different.”
“Seems a gallant admission from you.”