Page 17 of Love Hazard

No. Just no. She was pretty, and sometimes she was nice whenshe wasn’t trying to sneak into my house or offend me, but she wasn’t for me.

I sometimes wondered if I would ever have enough actualspace in my heart to take someone else on. Other times, I was reminded that theminute my mom died, I’d have a vacancy, but it was more like a foreclosure onmy soul. One that said nothing would ever exist there again and nobody wouldwant to buy it.

What was dead and gone was dead and gone, and sometimes itwas best to leave memorials for those people rather than risk getting hurt byfilling the hole and losing someone all over again.

I’d keep the rooms empty.

I’d keep the lights on somehow.

And I’d remember.

It was the best I could do.

Chapter Eight

“No human has any business looking cute while they sleep. Itjust goes against the laws of nature.”—August Wellington

Hazel

I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep until I woke up witha sore neck, a weird-looking red plaid blanket across my lap, and a Jeep stillrunning but missing its driver.

I rubbed my eyes and looked over at the empty black leatherseat August had been sitting in before personal abandonment. August wasmissing. I hadn’t even heard him leave the car let alone shut the door.

The keys were still in the ignition, and we were in front ofan Albertsons grocery store in the mountains.

It was pretty. I mean, Portland was already technically in amountainous area, but this place was closer to Seaside and Tillamook. Nestledright on the Oregon coast, it had rocky cliffs that dropped directly intotumultuous waters. On top of that, it had this beautiful fog that made youthink you were in a fairy tale, being both on the beach and in the trees.

I shivered and turned on the heat. How was it so much coldertwo hours away from the city?

I didn’t have to wait long. In his tight, white long-sleeve shirt and jeans, August was already rushing towardthe Jeep with two bags in his hands. Please, let those be snacks. I wasstarving.

He opened the back and shoved the bags in, then returned tothe front and opened his door, looking at me. “Good nap?”

My eyes narrowed. “Your smile feels judgmental.”

“That’s because it is. Oh, and you had some drool earlier,so I just ended up grabbing an empty coffee cup and holding it under your jawwith one hand. Too bad you can’t recycle spit. You’d have a good thing going.”

I yawned. “Not even your sarcasm or insults can ruin my goodmood right now.” I stretched my arms over my head. “That was probably the bestnap I’ve had in years.”

“Naps. I wonder what that’s actually like.You know, resting one’s eyes, not waking up with severe panic attacks andanxiety over everything you have to do that day or what might come tomorrow and—“ He stopped talking. “Sorry, when I’m tired, my censorjust dies a slow death in my mouth, and all the words come out.”

I was a bit stunned he’d said all of that, so I justshrugged. “It happens to the best of us. What did you get?”

Good, solid subject change.

“Beans. I figure if I eat enough, I can drive you out ofyour tent as prey for the wild animals.”

“I think your scent would be enough to keep them far, faraway from our campsite. And you know you shouldn’t talk about farting if youwant to look marginally attractive to any sex.”

He put the SUV into drive. “Oh,don’t worry. The idea is to repel, not attract.”

“Animals?”

“You.” He grinned. “Now, let’s go set up. I have a spotright near Canon Beach that lets you have tents on the outskirts near thewoods. It’s nice, and bonus, I’ve never been mauled by any wild creatures.”

“Yay.” I did a sad fist pump in the air. “Let’s just getthis over with, bury the hatchet, give the parents some alone time, and then goback home. How long are we camping again?”

“Dad said three days.” August’s voice cracked, and then hecleared his throat and went extremely silent—the tense sort of silence you knewwas necessary without even knowing the reasons why.

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