Page 9 of Love Always

“Wait. Who’s staying here?”

Pulling the plug, she watches the water drain. “Nic, Jackson and Mateus.”

I start to panic. “You mean Mateus is staying here?”

“Yes.” She runs the water to rinse.

“Whose room?”

Setting the pan in the drainer to air-dry she glances at me and then wipes her hands on a tea towel hooked to the lower cupboard. “What do you mean? I don’t know, that’ll be up to them.”

I’m already so far down the hallway headed to my old room on the left. She has to pivot to see me.

“What’s wrong with you?”

I stop and turn around. “Nothing.”

The big sister tone sets in: “I didn’t think this would be a problem. I mean you guys haven’t lived here in years and none of your stuff is in there anymore. Guest rooms,” she gestures and shrugs.

“No, I know. Hey. I got to go. Lindy’ll kill me.”

Claire just stares at me.

I can tell she’s irritated, but I can also tell she knows she’s irritated me. The trouble is neither of us knows why. “It’s fine. Never mind. Just a little freak out,” I say.

΅

Later, as I’m walking down the short dirt stretch to the main road to cross the street and make my way to Weaver’s and clock in, my mind races. It’s not the bedroom issue anymore. It’s the fact that they will all be off work, hanging out here. Mateus will be with them. Maybe I can pretend Cory is sick or that he’s tired and we just can’t come. The idea of a fire with a bunch of adults sounds lovely though. Growing up in an inn we all learned how to talk to anyone and I do miss it.

But the flutter in my stomach tells me I need to stay away. I can’t deal with Mateus—the way he looks, the way he smells, the way he tastes, and mostly the way all I see is him when he steps into my line of vision. My lips burn just thinking about him. Anyone who can derail me the way he can without even knowing it, is dangerous. He can unhinge me without even trying. When I press my palm to my cheek it’s hot and dry, a perfect co-presenting symptom with my racing thoughts.

Even if we were together for a while, it would be just that: for a while. I am not about to burden someone with my life, with what’s going on with my classes, or with Cory. I am a package deal and it’s a complicated package.

Best to keep him at arm’s length. Even better, nowhere near my arms.

A seagull cries overhead, swooping down to grab a bit of crust from the edge of the curb in front of the store’s porch. He alights on the wooden deck railing before he takes off, the scrap of bread dangling from his beak. He’s a smart one. I recognize him because he has a little scar on his left eyelid that makes him look like he’s winking when he blinks. I’ve name him “Jack” after every pirate from the past.

I step into Weaver’s and wave to Lindy, the owner’s daughter. She’s in her fifties and looks like a super fit tennis player. She lives at the store. I have no idea how she stays in shape. My phone buzzes in my back pocket. This is the fifth time this morning and it’s from the same burner phone. Shit. I duck in the walk-in for some privacy.

“I’m at work.”

“Did you think about what I said?” says a man’s voice.

“I’ve told you I am not interested.”

“I want to be clear I’m not pressuring you. This is just a decision for you to make. But I’m here if you want to talk more about it.”

I don’t know what to say, except the truth. “Yeah. I’m not really interested that way.”

“I know it seems scary and I know there’s lots and lots of rules about what we can and cannot do, but sometimes rules are there to be broken … hello?”

“I’m at work right now and I need to get off.”

“Oh sorry. Didn’t mean to put you in a weird position, it’s just, you know you have a lot to offer. I have a lot to offer you.” I hear him take a sip of something—probably coffee—from his decrepit office.

“I understand. You already said that.”

“Just promise me you’ll think about it.”