Page 39 of Acadia Falls

I decided I didn’t care. It was time I was at least semi-honest with myself.

I liked this girl.

She was normal. I couldn’t explain it much better than that. Maran was smart, and she was easy to talk to. She was a hard worker who had high standards for herself. I could relate to her in many ways that I hadn’t related to anyone in a long time.

She was a surprisingly competent cook for living in New York City, the land of takeout. She liked Neil Young. She liked big dogs. She had a grand plan—which included caring for her mother—and wanted to do something meaningful with her life.

Maran was a nice girl.

Not to mention the fact that she was beautiful. Not to mention that I was insanely attracted to her, and I’d had to drag myself away every night after dinner.

I grabbed the empty bottle of wine and the napkins and practically ran inside.

The alarm was going off, and I banged on it. Then I fell back asleep.

When I rolled over, sunlight was streaming through the windows. I squinted at the clock: six a.m.

“Fuck!” I jumped out of bed, pulled up my pants, and ran for the door.

“Jack?” Maran sat up, her brow furrowed with worry. “You okay?”

“I slept through the alarm.” I went and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She was warm and snuggly, and I damn near gave up and crawled back into bed. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled up at me. Why on earth was she so beautiful without any makeup, her hair all tangled from the night before? “Have a good day.”

“You too.”

I hustled down the stairs and out to the truck, checking my phone as I drove. There were four missed calls from Tommy and five texts. The second to last one said, I am thinking you are either dead or ran away with the circus.

The last one read, Or with Blondie.

Fucking Tommy. I had never slept through work before, not in twelve years. My baby brother would never let me hear the end of it.

He was waiting at the house, coolers packed, arms crossed against his chest. “You could’ve called.”

“I was asleep,” I snapped. “Just get in the truck, okay?”

He slid in and handed me a coffee. I took a sip—it had the perfect amount of oat milk. Only my mother knew how to make my coffee like that. Crap. “Mom knows I overslept?”

Tommy’s shoulders shook with silent laughter—he knew better than to laugh out loud. “She couldn’t believe it. She just kept saying that this Maran better be nice because she wouldn’t put up with some stuck-up sorority girl like the one Ryan brought home last Easter.”

“Ugh, right.” I wrinkled my nose. “What was her name again?”

“Logan Too-Good-For-Everything. Remember the eyebrow?” Tommy arched his eyebrow in imitation of Ryan’s short-lived sorority girlfriend.

“Of course—she spent the whole weekend being disgusted. Remember the way she looked at our tablecloth? And when Mom served celery with cream cheese spread down the middle?” We both started laughing. “That’s a fancy appetizer for us. She didn’t seem to care for it too much.”

“Wait till Mom finds out he’s going out with Tori Blaisdell.” Tommy shook his head. “Can’t be serving a big Hollywood star celery sticks with cream cheese.”

“True.” I had another sip of my coffee. It was delicious, even though it sucked that I would never hear the end of it from my mother.

At least Tommy didn’t say another word as we pulled down to the dock.

But Ralph from the co-op wasn’t so kind. He came out as we were getting our equipment together. “What’re you boys doing, going out so late?” He lifted his knit hat, scratched his thick gray hair, and peered at us suspiciously. “I’d ask which one of you boys overslept at your lady friend’s, but I already know the answer.”

Tommy’s shoulders sagged. “Thanks, Ralph.”

“M.B. went out early, so I knew it wasn’t you.” Ralph’s eyes had a twinkle as he winked at him.