Page 44 of Late Nights

Wait. Was Cannon jealous?

Those words floated around in my head, temporarily slowing me down with such a crazy thought.

Cannon, jealous over me.

As fast as the happy feeling had come, it was swiftly replaced by annoyance. How dare he throw a fit over Gavin butting in? Cannon had to know I wasn’t interested in Gavin. If anything, Cannon had been teasing me lately about how attracted I was to him. Heck, I’d almost kissed him last night! And was Gavin the guy I had been texting with late last night? No.

If Cannon was so bent out of shape over Gavin tagging along today, then why hadn’t he stuck around and shown him there was no competition between the two of them? That would have been a way better play than running away.

He ran away because he doesn’t do relationships. He wouldn’t fight for you.

My mind gave me those helpful reminders free of charge.

So why was I so determined to catch up to him? He apparently had no interest in skiing with me today.

But I wanted to ski with him. I’d been hoping to talk more, maybe see if he would open up to me when it was just the two of us on a side of a mountain, possibly hoping the combo of nature and fresh air would help him relax enough to let me share in his past.

But no. He had to go all avoidant on me, and now here I was chasing after him like a lunatic. Which only made me angry. It was apparent he wasn’t a fan of Gavin moving in on me, but it’s not like he was trying to move in instead. If anything, he kept pushing me away, constantly telling me we couldn’t be together—or even give it a try. So this whole fit thing he was pulling right now was ludicrous, and I wanted a chance to tell him just that.

He reached the bottom of the hill and clicked out of his skis. He bent to pick them up and began making his way toward the lodge.

Good. I’d be able to confront him there instead of continuing to chase him on the lift and down another hill.

Slanting my skis to the side, I came to an abrupt stop, hurrying to unclick my boots from my skis. Picking them up, I marched over to the ski rack, and once I’d made sure they were safely secured, I stomped into the lodge.

He was already seated in a leather armchair in one of the corners, looking down at his phone. I made a beeline for him, my anger fueling my steps.

“What the heck is wrong with you?” I exclaimed, not worrying about who might be listening around us.

He looked up in surprise. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you skiing with your lumberjack?”

I let out an annoyed sigh. “He’s not my lumberjack.”

“That’s not how he’s acting,” he said, his voice taking on an edge. “And you’re not telling him any different.”

Excuse me? He could not be for real. He was mad at me? I couldn’t even fathom the ridiculousness of this conversation.

My anger escalated. “What do you want me to do?” I shouted. “Say, oh by the way I’m not interested so stop trying to hang out with me?”

A throat cleared to my left and I turned to see who had joined us. The blood drained from my face as Gavin stood there, looking about as awkward and embarrassed as I felt.

“I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, his voice sounding deflated. “And it looks like you are, so I’m going to head out. I’ll meet you all at the car at four and drive you back to the house.”

He started to walk away, and I hurried to stop him. “Gavin, wait. I’m so sorry.”

He waved me off before I could say anymore. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine with just being friends. No hard feelings.”

I nodded, giving him a small smile, not knowing what else to say as he walked toward the doors and out of the lodge.

I turned back to Cannon, the anger quickly returning.

“Thanks for that.” I gestured to where Gavin had walked away.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smug smile as he stood. He jerked his thumb toward the exit. “He should be thanking me too. Better for him to find out now instead of at the end of the weekend. Or were you looking forward to spending more time with him?”

“No. I want to hang out with you,” I yelled, looking up at him. “Or at least, I did. But you make me do things and feel things I don’t know how to control.” Frustration seeped out of me.

“You don’t think you make me feel the same way?” he exclaimed.

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