“Awful.”
“Yeah, you look like you need a drink. Come on,” she says, waving me over to her beat-up Jeep.
I let out a breath, hoping that maybe tonight won’t completely suck as I climb into the passenger seat next to her and we take off.
8
I wake up the next morning and it takes me a second to remember where I am. Part of that is because I’m still half asleep and the other part is because I have the hangover from hell.
I’m not much of a drinker, never have been, but I went a little wild with Lyla last night. Most moms would say that she was a bad influence but I have a feeling that my mom would have loved her.
She had driven me back to her apartment and we had stopped for some takeout at a little Chinese restaurant downtown. She had run next door and grabbed two bottles of red wine. I remember thinking that two bottles seemed excessive. I’m also pretty sure that we drank both of them last night.
Lyla lives in a small apartment above some upscale restaurant downtown. She had parked out front and I remember being concerned that the restaurant was going to be upset that we were taking up one of their spots but she had waved me off.
I remember seeing a handsome-looking man watching us from the front window, or rather watching Lyla. He had a mischievous smirk as his eyes tracked her and Lyla had waved at him, giving him a cheeky smile and a salute as we headed around the corner out of his sight to the stairs.
After that, things start to get hazy. I remember eating and drinking a glass of red wine. Then another. I think I had one more after that but I honestly can’t remember. We had been watching 10 Things I Hate About You, but I don’t remember finishing the movie. I must have passed out.
It’s been a long time since I had any alcohol and even longer since I’ve had a night like last night. Not since my mom was alive and I had turned twenty-one. We had gone pretty wild that night and I remember being miserable and promising that I would never do that again.
Right now I wish that I stuck to that promise.
I pull my head off of the couch, looking over to see Lyla just starting to wake up as well. My phone is buzzing on the coffee table and I realize that the sound must have been what woke me.
“What time is it?” I mumble and Lyla groans.
“Too early.”
I agree but then I start to worry that I’m late to open the gift shop and I roll over, swiping up my phone.
“Shit! I have to be at work in half an hour!”
Lyla shoots up from her spot on the couch, her blonde hair sticking up in every direction. She has mascara smudged under her eyes and looks about as bad as I feel but she still manages to shoot to her feet and take off down the hallway.
“Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready to go!”
I stand up, trying my best to clean up some of our trash from last night. I manage to find my shoes, kicked off behind the bookshelf in her living room and I tug them on right as Lyla comes charging out of the bathroom, showered and changed.
“Ready?”
I nod and we hustle down the stairs and over to her car. There’s a piece of paper stuffed under her windshield and she swipes it, smiling slightly as she stuffs it into her pocket.
“What was that?” I ask as I buckle up and she throws her Jeep into reverse and guns it in the direction of the Mystery Cabin.
“Nothing,” she says in a hurry but I can see the smile on her lips.
“Is it from the guy at the restaurant last night?” I ask her and when she blushes slightly, I know that I’m right.
“He leaves me notes on my car.”
“Asking you not to park there?” I guess.
“No, he just writes ‘come to dinner. I’ll save you a table.’”
“Aww, why don’t you go?”
“It’s not that big of a deal. He probably does it all of the time.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say, remembering the way the man from last night had looked at her.
We pull up next to my Beetle a few minutes later and I throw myself out of the Jeep and hurry inside.
“Nice of you to show up,” Stan grumbles as Lyla and I run inside.
Teller just gives me a grin as I sprint past them and upstairs. I’m sure I look like a mess but if I hurry, I should be able to make it to work on time still.
I race into the bathroom and slam the door shut before I turn the shower on, stripping while the water warms up. I’m still feeling slightly hungover from last night but even that can’t ruin my good mood.
I’m starting to settle in here, to make friends. Teller is so sweet and charming and Lyla is fun and can make me laugh like no one else. Even Madelyn and Iris seemed super nice. Stan is still and issue but sometimes it feels like we’re making progress.
Things are looking up.
Until I look down and spot the mouse at the other end of the bathtub.
I scream, stumbling my way out of the shower and wrapping a towel around me as I jump up onto the top of the toilet seat.
I hear Teller shout my name in a panic and a second later, the bathroom door bursts open and I meet Teller’s wide eyes with my own. A second later, I’m abandoning the top of the toilet for him.
My arms and legs wrap around him and I cling to him. I’m sure I look like a half-drowned rat but it’s okay because it’s not like he can see anything with my shoulder covering his face.
“Are you okay?” he mumbles against my skin and I shake my head no, my cheek brushing against his ball cap.
“There’s a mouse in the tub,” I inform him, and I feel him start to shake with laughter. “It’s not funny!”
“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry. Why don’t you let me set you down and I’ll get him.”
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?”
“No, I’ll just catch him and release him in the woods.”
“Okay.”
His hands let go of the back of my thighs and I start to slide down when I realize that the towel has come undone and if I drop down, it’s going to fall too.
I freeze, now eye level with him as my cheeks heat and I scramble for a way out of this mess.
“Everything okay? The mouse isn’t out here. I think he’s stuck in the tub.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says, giving me that smile that I love as I cling to him like some kind of psychotic koala and we continue to stare at each other.
“It’s just that the towel came undone.”
“Oh.”
Teller’s eyes dip to my cleavage and then dart away quickly. A pink tint stains his cheeks and I wonder if he liked what he saw.
“Maybe if we go into the bedroom? You can set me on the bed so I can throw the blanket over me or something?”
“Sure thing,” he says, turning and striding next door to my bedroom.
I realize too late that he can’t really see where he’s going with me in front of him.
“Oh! Watch out for the—”
We go tumbling down onto the mattress and I groan as all of Teller’s weight lands on me.
“Suitcase,” I finish as he leans up on one arm to peer down at me.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Stan sent me up here to see what all the screaming is about and now I can see,” Lyla says as she stands in my doorway.