Page 30 of Never Have I Ever

“I was doing some reorganizing myself.” Why do I tell her so much? She doesn’t care. She doesn’t need to know.

“Oh yeah? Furniture? Clothes? The kitchen cabinets? Professionally speaking . . .” She waves her arm out so casually, like we’re friends, the opposite of what she said inside. “There’s a better way of organizing.”

Pretty sure she’s the last person I need to hear advice from. It’s up to me to fix this shit in my head. That’s why I’m in Deer Lake. Ironic that I came here to get her out of my system only to end up with her right back in my life.

“Those would be easier than fixing myself.”

I lie through my teeth like the fucker I am. I know damn well it’s not my head that needs fixing. It’s the organ in my chest. I’m not doing myself any favors by hanging around here. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to carry your stuff over.”

“I can manage on my own.”

Opening the door, I only turn enough to know she’s behind me. I nod, wishing I could look at her without reliving that night in Austin. The star she drew on the bag, a symbol of the brokenhearted? It’s now a symbol of us and what we used to be. “You’re the expert in that area.”

I head for the lake, thinking the cold air will be good to cool my blood from boiling. I’ll eventually get over the rest. It’s the anger that’s going to do me in. The hurt feelings are a bonus. Man, was I a sucker for her.

I thought she was the one, but she only wanted a good time.

She got it. I did too until the next morning.

On the positive side of her being here, she’s giving me the closure I never got prior. She doesn’t even remember my name, for fuck’s sake. If that’s not a door slamming in my face, I don’t know what is.

The rustling of brush under shoes has me looking back. She’s struggling to drag a bag weighing her down across the uneven ground. I hurry to assist. Her eyes go wide until she sees it’s me and smiles. That’s how I used to imagine us being—happy in each other’s company.

Fools and their dreams . . .

Taking the handle of one and grabbing the smaller black bag under my arm, I start for the main cabin. “I kept the lights out to save energy, but it’s still warm. There are three other bedrooms, but I think you’ll like the one my sister stays in best.”

“You have a sister?” she asks, doing a quick double step to keep up.

The beanie’s back on her head, and it still feels like a perverse joke that she’s asking me about the band. Blow after fucking blow.

“Am I that big of a loser? And how many bands do you hang out with that I was so unmemorable?” As I eye the hat once more, to think I thought I was special makes me laugh out loud. “Yeah, I have a sister.” I shoulder the door open and move her shit inside. With the massive windows facing the lake, we at least get some reflection.

“I’m sorry, did I offend you?” She closes the door and locks the bolts. “I know I’m not supposed to ask personal questions.”

Stopping, I turn around. My head hurts from the mental gymnastics of what the fuck she’s talking about. “Why?”

“Why what?” There’s such a goddamn innocence written in her expression—her eyes peering at me as if they have all the answers—that now I’m more confused than ever.

“Am I living in an alternate universe?” I heave a sigh before moving to the bedroom where she’ll stay. I set her bags down and then quickly peruse the room. No air is slipping in around the window. No creatures—insect or otherwise—have moved in. I even check under the bed, which was left with clean sheets. Even the photos still hang straight on the wall.

I turn to leave and practically barrel over her. Catching her by the back of her arms, I keep from knocking her out of the path. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Her hands tighten around my forearms, and she whispers, “All along.” Although I can see her eyes searching mine, the dark makes it harder to read what’s really on her mind.

A gulp breaks the silence—mine and then hers, but our bodies remain pressed together. The rise of her chest captures my attention, and I watch it fall in the exhalation.

I want so desperately to cup her face, to kiss her lips, to remind her of what she walked away from that day. But it was her choice, and I wasn’t a part of it.

Her eyes drift down between us as if she feels the past interfering. But then she clears her throat and asks, “This is your sister’s room?”

The moment passes before we can save it. So I move along as well. “Nikki. Her name is Nikki.”

Her glances away are quick, but her eyes always return to mine. “That’s pretty.” It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m keeping her from leaving. Again.

Releasing her arms, she slips around me, only air caught in my grasp. I shove my hands in my pockets and walk to the door. “If you need anything—”

“I won’t bother. It seems I’ve done enough already.”

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