by Tijan
Yep. Cold sweat.
I could already feel I was on the verge of a breakdown. Again.
But I was tired. Not sleeping tired, but bone tired—tired of being alone, tired of dodging and evading. As I stepped into my cabin, I felt tears starting to roll down my face.
Maybe I should actually tell them? I ran through the conversation.
I’d see pity on their faces. Hadley would start crying. Owen would roll his shoulder back because he’d be uncomfortable. And Grant, he’d be angry. I could only guess at why he’d be mad, but I knew he would be. That was his go-to emotion for situations like that.
I decided instead that I’d get drunk. Problem solved. I was always a happy drunk too, like a Labrador.
Labrador it was.
I shouldn’t have worried about deep and meaningful conversation.
The Thunder’s preseason game was on television, so we ended up taking our plates to the bar. We ate and watched the game—seemed the loyal thing to do. People were yelling and cheering, and I had a flare up of Crazy Charlie when Reese stole the ball at the end of the third quarter, followed up with a fouled shot that went in, and followed that up by sinking the free throw. And then he stole it again, but instead of running up for the layup—which would’ve been blocked, the guy had three extra inches on Reese—he backed up and laid out the prettiest, most smooth-sailing floater I’d ever seen.
Swish. Only net.
That was going to be played on ESPN for the rest of the night.
The bar broke out in groans, since they were playing our local state team but some had to cheer. It was so damn beautiful.
That seemed to set the tone for the rest of the game, and for us.
The Thunder stomped our team, but it was so pretty to watch. Reese dominated the floor. The announcers wondered aloud how the rest of the season would go, if this was an indication of the Thunder trying to make a point. They were one of the best teams for a reason. There was speculation about Reese’s brother as well, about the consequences, and then a mention that the team was using an undisclosed location for their camp.
We all watched. We all heard, and we lifted our drinks for a toast. It wasn’t high—more at chest level—and not a word was spoken, but after that, we were all in for partying. Owen ordered two rounds of shots. Hadley had two martinis, and we were lit.
And after meeting Sophia, then her family, I would’ve married her too.
We went to The Barn for dancing.
Hadley got another martini. I had another shot.
There was twerking. Running man. Sprinkler.
I grocery shopped. I changed a tire. I was a half of a unicorn dance. It was new. We’d just created it that night. I was the ass part, and Sophia’s abuela was the head part. Sophia tried being the hooves, but she just didn’t get it. When she swung her head back, I’d kick up my leg and throw some confetti in the air. Then we’d go back to prancing and pretending to kick people.
It was just what I needed. Tomorrow was going to kick my ass.
Even drunk, I could feel my sides hurting from all the laughing as we drove back.
Grant dropped Owen and Hadley off at their house. Sophia was snoring in the front, but they lived off the island, so it was just me. He drove to the village.
The path to my cabin wasn’t driveable so he parked at the mouth of the trail.
“I’ll walk you.” Grant opened his door as I got out.
“No, no!” I nearly yelled. Looking around, some of the lights were on in the nearby cabins. “Those guys are back already?”
Grant looked around. “Yeah. I mean, Minneapolis is only four hours away. Their game ended around ten, and it’s after three in the morning.”
Oh fuck. That was true.
“I have to be up at five.”
“We have the morning off, remember?” Grant nudged me because I’d started staring at one cabin in particular—the one Reese was staying in. The lights had been on, but they’d just turned off. Reese was in bed. Crawling into bed. Maybe shirtless. Probably shirtless. What guy wore a shirt to bed? He was definitely shirtless. And that tattoo. I remembered it. I’d been secretly salivating over it all week, and I say secretly because I was a reformed stalker.
Maybe not as reformed as I thought.
I hung my head. “I’m so messed up,” I whispered to myself.
I wasn’t talking the usual craziness. Though that was there, and I held it up like a shield, loving it and hugging it close because it kept so much real shit out. I meant Damian. I could feel him. He was sitting on my chest, pushing me down.
I felt tears on my face, which dammit, probably meant I was bawling.
“Charlie?” Grant edged closer.
Sophia’s snore rose to a crescendo, and I realized what I’d just said.
I jerked away. “Sorry. I’m good. I—” I wasn’t, but I wasn’t looking at Grant. I was too embarrassed. “Thanks for the ride, Grant. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“We’re off till lunch.”
I waved. “Okay. Thanks. See you for lunch.”
Grant drove away, and there was a lone light left for the entire village. It cast just enough light for me to make it to my front steps.
That’s when the dark shadow spoke. “You reek.”
I screamed.
“Holy fuck! Shut up.” The dark shadow moved at an unnatural speed, slamming a hand over my mouth.
It pressed in close, but I was still trying to get some air for more screeching. My heart was in my head, trying to burst out of my skull.
“It’s me. Forster. Shut up.”
OH! Oh, God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Oh God, God, God, God.
Deep breath. I needed to calm, but holy fucking hell. I was having a hard time.
Shoving back from him, I hissed, “You scared the crap out of me.” And on second thought, I felt my butt. I couldn’t tell if my pants felt wet or not.
“No shit.”
I couldn’t see a thing, but I swear I could hear his eyes roll. I heard my screen door open, and he rattled the doorknob.
“You got a key?”
I moved forward, bumping into him so I could insert the key. No light meant you had to go with feel, and Keith had given me a crappy key. You had to insert it, then jerk it to the right just as you unlocked it, or the lock would get stuck. I was not going to explain that to Reese right now, when I was drunk, and he must’ve been…
I rounded back to him just as the door gave way. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you sleeping?” And who had turned that light off in his cabin?
He didn’t say anything, just grunted and stepped inside. “Where’s your light?”
Now that sane thought was fighting its way to the surface, I was having a moment. Reese Forster was in my cabin and asking where the light was. Did I want the light on? Of course I did. I might be deluded, but I wasn’t a wanton hussy, or I was trying to tell myself I wasn’t. Though with him, persuasion would go a long way.
“There’s a string in the middle of the room. You gotta pull it.”
I was not entering that fairway. With both of us standing in the middle of the room, swinging arms around, someone was bound to lose an eye.
A few more curses from him, he found it and yanked.
Light flooded the room. I was greeted by a pissed-off pro basketball player, who’d showered and was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt that looked like it was made of the softest material on Earth. Seriously. Whoever made that shirt was a genius, because I wanted to touch it.
I was raising my hand to do just that when he shifted backward. “What are you doing?”
“Your shit looks so soft. I wanted—”
“My shit?”
“What?” I blinked. Huh?
“You said shit.”
“Shirt.” Shit. Um… I cocked my head. “What’s going on here?”
“I asked what you were doing coming in so late. And you reek of booze. I couldn’t sleep, and I heard you and your friend driving up, so I ca
me down to wait for you. You walk like a tortoise.”
“I’m drunk. And it’s night.” That made the perfect sense to me, and I remembered his earlier question. “I was a unicorn.”
“I’m so fucking confused by you.” He rubbed his forehead. “What are you talking about now? A unicorn?” “Me and the abuela.”
“Abuela?”
“I call her THE abuela, but I’m sure she goes by Abuela too.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Sophia’s family. Her grandmother. And then there’s Nana, mija, and lots of cousins, but the abuela and I were a dancing unicorn together. I threw confetti.”
“I gathered.” He nodded at me. “You’re covered in glitter.”
I shrugged. “From the confetti and the dancing.”
“Where’d you get the confetti?”
Another shrug. “The world’s greatest mystery. Where does confetti really come from?”
Suddenly his eyebrows went flat. “You guys went drinking.”
“The booze oozing out of my pores indicates that. I thought we were past that.”
“No. I thought you camp people stayed here all the time.” He shook his head, rubbing his jaw as he looked around the room. “What kind of shithole do you stay in?”
He took in the fishing net that made up a chandelier, scanned the wall of fish hooks turned upside down. He wrinkled his nose. “This place smells too. Holy fuck.” He took a good whiff. “What is that?”
“It’s the old fishing cabin. I barely notice it now.”
“Because it’s on you.”
“What?” No! “Take that back.” I hit him in the arm.
“Who put you in here?”
“My boss.”
“Your boss who’s a dick?”
Best friends, this guy and me. I felt a good kick in the nether regions. Not good, though.
“You can’t do things like that,” I told him.
“Like what?”
“Like be on the same page as me.” I motioned to my groin. “Makes the he-girl happy down there.”
He groaned, but asked, “Your vagina is male? That’s where you’re going with that?”
Of course. Made perfect sense.
He rolled his eyes. “You can cut that shit. I’ve been watching you all week, and I know your deal.”
That didn’t sound good.
A knot was forming inside me. I felt its tentacles starting to wrap around. Okay. It was more of an octopus inside me, but it would harden and knot. All knots.
He sounded impatient as he picked up a bag of mine. “This whole crazy charade you’re putting on is just that. It’s a facade. You’re not a real stalker. You’re not even half a stalker.”
“I am too.”
He opened my bag, and I let him. I don’t know why, but I did. He dumped out some papers I had stuffed in there and began looking around. He went into my bedroom and grabbed some of my shirts. Putting them into the bag, he reached for more clothing.
“It’s an act,” he informed me. “Yeah, you might have weird tendencies, and you might be a fan, but that’s it. You’re not a groupie. You’re not a fanatic. If you were, I would’ve needed to kick you out of my cabin five times by now, and you’ve not once come over.” He shoved more of my clothes into the bag. “I asked you one question, and you folded. Someone truly nuts would be convinced I was asking you to marry me. She’d have horrible boundaries, and you are really all about boundaries. Jesus. You told me to back off after one personal question. You closed up and flipped the switch. You’re not even super friendly anymore.”
He was done. My bag was so full he couldn’t zip it closed.
I motioned him aside and took it, stuffing my underwear down so there was enough space to close the zipper. Then I handed it back to him.
He took it, staring at me. “I don’t know your deal. I don’t want you to know my deal, but sometime over the last week, I started to like you.” He pointed at me. “And not like that. You’re kinda cool, and I don’t say that shit to anyone, so if you claim I said it tomorrow, I’ll lie. Got it?”
I nodded. “Got it. I’m not cool.”
“See? There’s the annoying side of you.” He started for the door. “Now come on.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my cabin. Juan’s there, but I’ll have him bunk with Lestroy tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I waved. “Have a fun time with that.”
He stood at the door, looking back to see I had not moved with the bag in his hands. “What? No.” He threw the bag at me. “That’s for you. You’re not staying here. This place can’t be healthy. The whole thing should be burned down.”
“Don’t tell Owen and Hadley.”
“Why not?”
“They worked really hard at airing out the smell.”
His eyes got big. “You mean it was worse?”
I was not usually the giving-in kind of girl, but I was tired.
Finding one of my other bags, I put in enough clothes for the night and some of my things from the bathroom.
When I had my phone and charger, I stood in front of him. “Ready to go.”
He eyed my bag. “What’s that for?”
“Clothes.”
He held up his bag. “That’s what this is for.”
I took it from him and tossed it to the chair. “Thoughtful as you were, you packed all the wrong clothes. I don’t actually wear half the stuff I brought with me.”
“Jesus Christ.” He grabbed my bag and shoved through the door. “Come on.”
I went with him, my insides quivering in fear and aching with excitement.
The fish cabin had won this battle.
• • •
Juan Cartion was sleeping on the bottom bunk. His suitcases were open on the bunk above him, and that was the only bed open. They had one of the more private cabins, so Reese bunked on the couch and said I had to take his old bed.
I started to make a comment about not encouraging the he-girl, but he clamped his hand over my mouth and hissed in my ear about not being a smart-ass. I experienced a flurry of déjà vu
moments, but did as he asked. I heard Juan snoring lightly, so I decided to be kind.
And I continued to be kind, even though I barely slept.
The sun had come up thirty minutes ago, and I’d waited this long before getting on my phone. Sound was off, the vibrate too, but I was doing some research. I had something to prove to Reese when he woke up.
That was all fine and dandy until Juan Cartion rolled over in his bed. His sheet slipped down to his waist, just barely covering his dick, and I watched as he stretched. His eyes stayed closed as his hand moved under the sheet to cup himself. He yawned as his hand moved, and I knew enough to know I had to announce my presence.
I coughed. “Morning.”
His eyes flew open, and he launched in the air. “HOLY FUCK!”
A thud came from the main room. Reese was in the bedroom in half a second as Juan pressed against the wall with his sheet in front of him.
First horrified, then pissed, Juan lunged forward and grabbed the phone from my hands.
“What the fuck? You were recording me?”
Oh no!
“What the fuck?!” Reese glared at me.
“No.” I scrambled to my feet. I was wearing a respectable tank and sleeping shorts, but Juan pressed back like I’d tried to brand him. He sucked in his breath, moving behind Reese to glare over his shoulder.
“I wasn’t. I swear!” I motioned to my phone. “Look. I was on Google.”
He examined my phone. “What is this shit? Types of stalkers?”
Reese’s face switched, his eyes tight and his jaw clenched. He grabbed my phone, reading the screen. “Are you serious? You’re supposed to be sleeping, and instead you’re what? Looking up types of stalkers?”
Forgetting Juan, I took a step closer. “But look at the categories. I fall in, like, four of those. There’s the rejected stalker, the resent
ful one, predatory, the one seeking intimacy, incompetent, or the morbidly infatuated one. I’m a whole bunch of those. I swear.”
“You’re nuts. That’s what you are, but you’re not a stalker. I have stalkers. You’re not one of them.” He shoved my phone at me, rolling his eyes. “Juan, let’s switch.”
Juan’s eyes became saucers. “You’re going to sleep in here with her?”
“Her dickhead of a boss put her in a place that should be condemned. It’s not safe. Trust me. Just for a night. It was late. I was thinking you could bunk with Lestroy, or she can find a new place.”
I folded my arms over my chest. I already knew how that’d go. “My boss won’t put me anywhere else. It’s the fishing cabin or the janitor’s closet in the basement, and that main building is haunted.”
Juan’s eyes just remained saucers. “It is?!”
I was guessing. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but that’s the basement. I’m not sleeping down there.”
He took a breath, suddenly looking more normal. He stepped away from Reese too.
“Shit. Okay.” He grabbed his phone and some of his clothes and padded to the other room. A second later, he tossed Reese’s pillow and blanket into the bedroom.
Scooping them up, Reese gave me a wary look. “We are going to be sleeping. We have this morning off. Then it’s meetings the rest of the day and light hoops. It’s a rest day for us too.”
He said that like I was going to fight him on it.
I just shrugged, stepped into the bathroom for a moment, then slipped back into his bed.
I paused, seeing Reese’s eyes closed. “You want me to sleep there?” I asked. “I mean, this is your bed. Right?”
He rolled over, shaking his head. “I was sleeping in the other room the whole time. Go to sleep, not-really-a-stalker girl. I’m tired.”
Well… When he put it like that… I slipped under the covers and turned my back to him.
I fell asleep much more easily this time.
Juan Cartion moved out.
I convinced Reese to let the fishing cabin go, because I didn’t want to deal with what Keith would do afterward. He’d claim I seduced Reese Forster into taking up my fishing cabin cause, and I wasn’t joking about the janitor’s closet. I’d overheard him one time mentioning to the maintenance crew that if we needed an extra room for someone, a staff member could stay in that closet.
