by E. L. Montes
“About what?” She looks straight ahead as she steers.
“About what you said, about Logan and me. For some reason I feel uncomfortable when he’s around me.”
“A bad uncomfortable or good uncomfortable?”
I adjust in the seat, admiring her profile. Charlie is beautiful, yes, but she’s also so strong, so confident. I wish I had at least an ounce of the courage she has. “What does it matter? I’m just uncomfortable.”
“Well, a good comfortable means you’re just a bit nervous around him because maybe you feel something for him—more than knowing that he’s just the guy who’s working for your parents. A bad uncomfortable means you’re afraid to be around him, that he makes you nervous in a bad way, like he could possibly harm you.”
I take in what she just said. “No. I don’t get the feeling he’d harm me.”
“Okay. Good. Because if you felt that way, I’d turn this car around and go back home.”
I smile. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course. I would never place you in a dangerous situation. You know that, right?” She glances over, waiting for me to agree. I nod. “Good.” Charlie focuses back on the road. I know she wouldn’t put me in harm’s way. I lean my head back against the headrest, feeling a bit more at ease, and listen to Charlie chat away for the rest of the ride.
Two hours later, according to our navigation system, we’ve reached our destination. I straighten in the passenger seat. Charlie drives down a long dirt path, which is supposed to lead us to the lake house. I look around, taking in the beauty of the outdoors. Who knew nature could create such perfection? It’s like a work of art. Trees of all different colors and textures surround us, and the sun shines down in patches on the leaves and plants covering the forest floor. It’s stunning, peaceful. I roll down the passenger window and lean my head out to catch the warm breeze on my skin and in my hair. Breathing feels effortless here. It doesn’t feel like a task or a struggle.
Light strokes of the wind brush my face. I shut my eyes and continue to just…breathe, letting the alluring sounds of nature fill my ears. It’s quiet, like the only sounds in the world are the ones around me: leaves lightly rustling against one another in the breeze, buzzing of early summer insects, and birds chirping merrily. I haven’t even seen the house or the lake yet, but right now, at this very moment, I feel at peace. I feel safe. It’s the strangest sensation. So much time has passed since I’ve experienced it, it feels abnormal, yet right at the same time. I wish I could freeze this moment and stay here forever.
“We’re here!” Charlie lets out a squeal. Her car comes to an abrupt stop, jerking me forward in my seat. I flash my eyes open as I throw my arms out against the dash. Wow. The lake house is much more than I pictured. I expected a tiny cottage—which would be fine—but I didn’t expect this. A large two-story cabin sits proudly in a grassy clearing before us. The tall glass windows, wrapped around both the lower and upper levels, provide a perfect view of the inside. Just behind the home is the lake, encircled by tall trees.
Charlie and I exit the car. I stand just outside the passenger side with the door wide open, taking it all in. I hear the trunk open and close before Charlie interrupts my reverie. “Hey, want to help me out over here?” I turn around and see her struggling to roll both pieces of our luggage on the dirt driveway.
“We’ll help out with those,” Bryson calls out as he and Santino jog over.
“See you guys found your way,” Santino says with a smile as he grabs a suitcase. Bryson grabs the other.
“Yeah. The GPS took us the long route, but we eventually made it,” Charlie says, stretching her limbs. We’re both a little achy from the three-hour drive.
Bryson smiles modestly. “I should have told you there was construction on the main road so it would reroute you a different way. Sorry.”
Charlie waves her hand. “No worries. It was great bonding time. Wasn’t it, Jenna?”
“Yeah.” I shut the car door.
Bryson jerks his head toward the house. “Well, let me show you guys where you’ll be staying.”
Charlie runs up between Santino and Bryson and starts chatting away as I follow closely behind. We reach the front porch and enter the home. It’s exactly what you’d hope a lake house would be like: open, airy, and bright. The oversized sectional and two recliners in the living area give the space a more masculine look. There’s no art on the wall, but there are a few large collage frames hanging over to one side, which I’m guessing are filled with family photos.
We follow the guys up the stairs and into one of the five bedrooms with two twin beds. They place our luggage down. “This is where you girls will be staying. I hope it’s okay?” Bryson asks.
I slowly whirl around, meeting him eye to eye. “Yes. It’s perfect, thank you.”
He nods once. “All right. We’ll let you girls get settled in.” He glances at his watch. “It’s only six. We have food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. People will start arriving around eight.”
“It’ll be fun, girls,” Santino says to us, but his focus is entirely on Charlie who’s by the door, smiling flirtatiously in return. Bryson grips Santino by the shoulder and hauls him out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
I let out a large huff. “What are we doing here?”
Charlie gives me a distraught look and then places both hands to her hips. Here comes dramatic Charlie. “What do you mean by ‘What are we doing here?’ You said it was okay, that we should come. Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”
“It just feels bizarre. Earlier today I had an argument with my mother, an episode. Now I’m here, standing in a room at a lake house that’s owned by the contractors working for my parents.” I toss a hand in the air. “None of that strikes you as odd? Not even a little bit?”
Charlie drops her arms, walks over, and grips my biceps. “Odd? No. Exciting? Yes. Loosen up a bit.” She shimmies my arms. “Tonight will be fun. I promise. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning if you’re still feeling this way.”
I raise a brow in question. “Promise?”
She brings a hand to her chest. “Promise.”
“Okay, let’s go downstairs, then.”
“Attagirl!”
Charlie and I are introduced to the other three guys—Justin, Danny, and Scott—who are also working on the guesthouse for my parents. They seem like nice guys, though I can’t help but notice that Logan isn’t around. No one has mentioned him, and I don’t want to seem interested, so I leave it at that. We’re all sitting around the kitchen table and the guys are telling us how these summer parties of theirs work.
“And you have one every weekend for the entire summer?” Charlie asks, very entertained by their stories.
Bryson answers, “Pretty much. We started seven years ago for my twenty-first birthday and it’s been a thing ever since.” He takes a sip of his beer. All the guys and Charlie are drinking already. I’m sure I’ll be babysitting her the rest of the night.
“When’s your birthday?” I ask.
He looks at me from across the table and his face lights up with a huge grin. “Tomorrow, actually.”
Charlie leans over the table, her breasts practically spilling out of her low-cut shirt. “Na-uh. Shut up!” He laughs at her and nods. “Well, happy birthday! We have to do something special for you.”
I roll my eyes, shake my head, and look toward the living area just as the front door swings open. Logan steps in, wiping the dirt of his shoes along the welcome rug. My heart does a backflip and starts crashing around in my chest. I saw him this morning. He saw me this morning. I feel embarrassed now. The way I looked. The way I acted. He witnessed all of it.
“Logan, my man.” Santino jumps up from the chair beside Bryson and spreads his arms, greeting Logan.
Logan nods at Santino and heads over to us. My face heats up and I avert my eyes. Can anyone hear my heartbeat right now? It’s so loud.
“Hey, guys.
” He looks around the table, and I gaze up at him just as his eyes land on me. A shocked expression appears on his masculine features, and then he relaxes with a smile. “Glad you ladies could make it.”
“Thanks. Logan, right?” Charlie asks.
“Yeah, it’s Logan. Not Lance. Just Logan.” He grins at me.
Oh. My. God. Did anyone else catch that? I look around furtively. No one’s paying attention, thank God. My chest expands in relief.
Logan walks over to the fridge, right behind where Charlie is seated, and pulls out a beer. “What time you guys get here?” He shuts the fridge, turns around, and looks at Santino and Bryson, waiting for a response from them as he chugs down a beer.
Santino scratches the back of his head. “Um, around five. Right?” He looks over to Bryson for confirmation.
“Yeah, man, around five. My father keep you late?” Bryson asks.
Logan leans against the kitchen counter beside the fridge. I look down at my half-empty glass of water. This clear glass is quite interesting all of a sudden. “Yep,” Logan replies, popping the P.
Santino laughs. “Well, what did you expect? You knew that bullshit lie about helping a stranded girl on the street wasn’t gonna fly with your uncle. You should’ve just said you slept in. I think he’d respect that a bit more.”
My heart just dropped. The stranded girl is me. I’m the girl he pulled over for this morning. I’m the girl he waited patiently with until Charlie arrived. I think I’m going to be sick. I look up at Charlie. She glances at me with a concerned look and flicks her brows as if asking, “Are you okay?” I nod and stand quickly, trying to keep calm. “Excuse me. I have to use the bathroom.”
“There’s one over by the living area.” Bryson points toward the right of him. I dart straight to the bathroom and press my back into the door the moment I close it.
What the hell are you doing here, Jenna? My mind begins to race with thoughts. At least they’re my thoughts for a change. This is ridiculous. It’s times like this I wish I knew how to drive; I’d jump into Charlie’s car, speed out of here, and never look back. As far as I can tell, the only people that know about this morning are Logan, Charlie, and me. If anyone else knew, I think I’d be sick. Beyond sick. People would start asking questions, and questions lead to more questions. And unanswered questions lead to curiosity. I can’t have that. It’s bad enough Logan probably thinks less of me.
I breathe in and out evenly, stepping to the sink to dab my face with cool water. Once I’m pulled together, I step out. Charlie’s face is the first thing I see when I open the door. She scares the living daylights out of me. “What are you doing standing there like that?”
“I heard you talking to yourself,” she whispers, which is really a harsh non-whisper because Charlie is the worst whisperer ever.
Shit. I look around. The guys are no longer in the kitchen. “Did anyone else hear?”
“No.” She drops her crossed arms. “They’re in the back, getting things ready for the party. It’s starting in an hour.” She pauses. “Jenna, I know how you feel when people ask this, but—”
“Yes, I brought my medication,” I interrupt.
“Are you taking them?” She sighs heavily. “Don’t give me that look. I had to ask.”
“Don’t.” I raise a finger to her chest. “Don’t ever ask again. I know what I’m doing. This is supposed to be a good weekend. Don’t ruin it by acting like her.”
Charlie’s shoulders relax. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You’re right. This is going to be an awesome weekend. Come on, let’s go have some fun.” She wraps her arm around my shoulder and hustles me out back onto a large deck where the guys are hanging around.
I’m supposed to be having fun right now, but all I’m trying to do is steer clear of Logan. I keep my distance. Every time I catch him staring at me, I look away. I stay close to Charlie and watch as new partiers arrive.
The party has filled out with over thirty people—all drunk, of course. Charlie is all over Santino. At least she’s having a good time. Logan is playing cards with Bryson and a few girls at one of the tables. I guess he got the hint; he hasn’t looked at me once over the past hour.
It’s the perfect moment to escape, so I climb down the steps of the deck and look past the trees, toward the lake. No one’s there, so I head to the waterfront. I reach the end of the dock and take a seat. With my feet dangling over the edge and my arms crossed, I inhale and exhale a fresh breath of air. The music from the house becomes distant. I zone it out, focusing on the image before me. I watch the sun set as blue, purple, pink, orange, and yellow paint the sky. The reflection bounces off the lake and ripples when a light breeze whips by. I try to picture myself home at this very moment. I’d probably be stuck in my room, but I’d rather be here.
I’ve probably been sitting here for about twenty minutes when I hear the dock’s floorboard creak loudly. Startled, I turn around to see what it is. Logan is walking over with two beer bottles in each hand, a warm smile spread across his chiseled features. I swallow hard, taking him in fully for the first time. Every other time I’ve been around Logan, I’ve been too wrapped up in my own head to really pay attention. He has a great physique, tall and toned. His broad shoulders could belong to a linebacker. His arms, swollen against the sleeves of his T-shirt, are sinewy and tan. Brown hair, cut close to his scalp, is a perfect contrast to his clear blue eyes. He’s wearing loose jeans that hang low on his waist, and his confident, carefree attitude is obvious in the way he carries himself. He’s got sex appeal, that’s for sure. I’m certain other girls can’t resist him.
With every step he takes, the more ragged my breathing becomes. I’m nervous, and I have no idea why. I’ve been purposely avoiding him the entire evening. I think it’s because he saw one of my meltdowns this morning. He probably thinks I was having some type of boy trouble or something. Little does he know he witnessed one of my mild episodes.
“Hey,” he says as he reaches me. “Mind if I join you?”
Yes. “No.”
He sits beside me as another light breeze blows by us. I inhale his scent. “So are you enjoying yourself?”
God, my eyes are closed. Did I seriously just close my eyes to breathe in his scent? I flutter my lashes open. Embarrassed and momentarily distracted, I blurt out, “Huh? Oh, yes. Yes, I am.” He extends his arm, offering me a beer. “No, thank you. I don’t drink.”
“Never?” He raises a brow.
“No. Well, I used to. Not anymore.”
Logan wrinkles his nose. “Bad experience, huh?” I answer with a nod and turn my head back to the lake. “Are you girls thinking of staying tomorrow too?” He cracks open a beer for himself and takes a gulp.
“Probably not. We’ll probably leave in the morning.”
“You should think about sticking around. We have a barbeque going on in the afternoon, and then we usually jump in the lake and have a few drinks.” He chuckles. “Although you don’t have to partake in the drinking.” I try to hold back a smile. He leans forward and I look over at him; he’s staring directly at me. “Are you smiling?” he asks with a large grin.
“I think it’s funny that you used the term partake.”
“I think it’s nice to see you smile.” His smile wavers, and he raises a brow. “Why do you do that?”
I look down at my feet swinging beneath me. “Do what?”
“You instantly stop smiling the moment I mention it. It’s okay to smile, especially out here.” I peek up at him. He spreads his arms wide, bottle in hand, and looks around. “No one will catch you.”
“I’m not afraid of anyone catching me.”
He nods, takes another swig of his beer, and looks straight ahead, across the lake. “Then what are you afraid of?”
Myself. “Nothing.” I steer the conversation away from me. “It’s beautiful out here. Thank you for inviting us. I’d probably be home watching TV or sleeping right now.”
“Sleeping? It’s only eight…
nine…eight or nine.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“Yeah, well I don’t exactly live the high life.” He laughs at my response. We look at each other. His grin is contagious; I smile back at him. It’s a light smile, and I know I’m doing it this time. I just hope he doesn’t mention it. Logan drops his stare to my lips and his eyes linger there. For a moment, I watch him watching me. My smile slowly fades, and I don’t know if it’s a nervous reaction or a physiological one, but my tongue darts out to wet my lips. When it does, he tears his eyes away, taking another gulp of his beer, and the moment is gone.
“So how long has your family had the lake house?” I ask, hoping to cover the awkward moment.
“About twenty years,” he answers, but he doesn’t look back at me. He’s focused down on the beer bottle, twirling it in his hand.
“Oh, wow. That’s a long time. It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it is. When my uncle George purchased the land over twenty years ago, he barely had two dimes to rub together.” He shrugs, still twirling the bottle. “It was a deal he couldn’t pass up. He used all his savings on the land itself and purchased lumber and other items little by little until he had enough to build a small cottage. Originally, it was a two-bedroom, eight-hundred-square-foot cabin, not the four-thousand-square-foot party house it is today.”
I smile, trying to picture a small cabin where the large home now rests. “How did it get the way it is now?”
Logan brings the rim of the bottle to his lips and tilts his head back, chugging the rest of the beer. I swallow as I watch his lips curl into a smile around the rim. After he finishes, he places the beer down and looks up at me with a lopsided grin. “As my uncle’s business increased and more money came in, he began expanding the home. When Bryson, my brother, Sean, and I were in our teens, my uncle came up with a new tradition. Every summer, we’d come here and help with expansions and renovations until it became what it is now.”
“That’s amazing.”
“It is. The thing is…” He lifts one leg, leaves the other dangling, and twirls his body so that he’s facing me but not looking at me. His focus is over his left shoulder, on the house set back from the dock. “You’d think three teenage boys would want to spend their summers partying around, but we looked forward to helping with the lake house every year. There’s a piece of each of us in there.” He nods his head toward the property. “I guess that’s why we make it a point to still come. I mean it’s not like it used to be, filled with family, but I guess people grow and change.”
