Page 40 of Unravel Me

“Wow, so it was meant to be.”

“Guess you could say that. Everyone thought I was crazy. You should’ve seen this place; it was a damn mess. I shared the kitchen with a family of racoons for a month.” He laughs, reminiscing. There’s a heaviness in the air and I stay silent, giving him the space to talk. “In a way, this house saved me.”

Somehow, I understand. This place heals, I can feel it.

But I also know how it feels to need a distraction, to need to be busy enough that you can escape reality.

Like this relationship.

My stomach plummets but I squeezed Rhett’s hand.

“I feel honored to know.” I grin at him, lightening the mood.

“Something about you city girls, you could get a dog to confess he stole a bone.”

I shove him playfully, but Rhett pulls me into his arms, kissing my temple.

It doesn’t seem right that only twenty-four hours ago was our first date. But if we are being honest, I started baring my soul to Rhett the night on the rooftop and never really stopped.

Chapter twenty-three

Audrey

The purring and sputtering of a coffee maker woke me from my slumber Sunday morning. As I peel my eyes open and see the shiplap walls around me, it takes a moment to register where I am. And that I shared the bed last night with a blonde-haired man who held me all night. It was never in the plan, but somewhere between playing cards on the screened in porch and laughing my head off as Mabel body slammed the bedroom door, trying to get in to sleep on the bed, I grew tired. And as naturally as Rhett and I found each other, I found myself sleeping in his arms.

Rolling out of bed, I’m grateful to have a moment to pull myself together. I scurry into the bathroom after grabbing my clothes from yesterday and freshen up the best I can. Luckily, I never go anywhere without an obscene number of toiletries and cosmetics. Though this morning I forgo the blush, as my cheeks seem to have a permanent rosiness, and my skin a new glow that I'm not angry about.

Ten minutes later, I mosey out into the kitchen with my hair in a braid, wearing jean shorts, and a button-down linen top. And maybe a few spritz of perfume.

With his back to me, Rhett stands in front of the coffee pot, filling two mugs. The clock on the stove reads 9 a.m., and a bout of panic rises in my chest.

I haven’t slept past 5 a.m. since the day Jackson left me. I guess it was long overdue, but I also still have an apartment— or room—to unpack.

“I was just about to get out of your hair,” I pipe up.

Rhett turns around slowly, his blue eyes raking me over and crosses his arms. “Good morning to you, too.” His gray sweatpants lay low on his hips, leaving little to the imagination and an Atlanta Braves baseball cap hides his messy mop of dirty blond hair.

Embarrassed, I slap my hand to my eyes. I should’ve left last night. My god, what was I thinking? “Good morning, I’m sorry. I just…I don’t want to overstay my welcome and I’m sure you have stuff to do.”

Rhett offers me the coffee mug. “I’m in no rush, seriously. At least have coffee with me?”

I hesitate but I crumble quickly because I can't deny coffee, and I can’t deny him.

“Okay.” I take it from him, and grin over the hot steam. “Thank you.”

He bobs his head, and I try my best to keep my eyes off his bare chest and V-shaped muscles.

“I’ll walk you out soon.” He sets his mug down. “I just need to get clothes on, so you can stop eye fucking me.” He winks and my jaw drops. I scoff as he walks into his bedroom.

I don’t recall banter ever being this easy with anyone but Penny. But before I can analyze more about what that means, Mabel wobbles up next to me, stretching her long legs, her nose in the air towards the countertop.

“What is it, sweet girl?”

Mabel lets out a low grumble in response. I crouch down to pet her, but she protests, nudging my hand toward the counter.

“You want more treats?” I whisper, chuckling as I snatch a treat from the counter. “I’ll meet you out on the porch, Rhett,” I called out, just loud enough so he could hear me through the slightly open bedroom door.

Mabel follows me to the front porch. As soon as I sit on the swing, she sits, too, trying to give me her paw before I even ask. I break a piece of the treat off, shake her paw, and give her the treat I made.