Page 18 of The Version You Hide

She nods and then we sit in silence as the moments pass by. Finally, she playfully digs an elbow into my ribs. “Are you planning on slacking off out here all day, boss?”

“I’m thinking about it.” I snicker as I nudge her back with my shoulder.

“I mean, it really says a lot that no one has seemed to notice that you’re gone.” Her tone drips with sarcasm but there’s a slight grin twisting the corners of her mouth upward. “You’re obviously invaluable around here.”

A laugh surges from me as I rise to my feet. I’m getting used to these sassy one-liners. “You know I could fire you for being such a smartass.”

“Then who would unpack your deliveries and give you hell,” she says. “Face it. Life would be boring around here without me.”

I know that she’s joking. That she doesn’t really regard

herself that highly.

But as we return to the bar to serve customers, wash dishes and clean tabletops, all I can think about are those grey-blue eyes and the way her smooth, tanned skin felt underneath my fingertips.

Chapter 6

MACKENZIE

I may not always do well with the quiet, but somehow, I find the most peace at the river. When I need to free my mind of unwelcome thoughts, this is where I come. To the small jetty at the back of Henley and Kristen’s house.

Well, it’s my house too, they tell me. But that feels weird to say. And honestly, that’s another reason I come here. To give them privacy.

I know I’m welcome in the house. They’ve never done anything to make me feel otherwise, though it’s hard to imagine them not wishing they had more time to themselves. I know my time staying here with them is limited.

I’ll have to get my act together and find my own place one day. I can hardly stay here when they’re newlyweds or even worse, and I know I might be getting ahead of myself here but, new parents.

I balance my art book in my lap, a half-drawn sketch of the old oak tree across the bank filling its current page. This one has taken me a while because I’ve been trying so hard to get every detail perfect. To capture the way the light hits its leaves making them glisten like tinsel and the depth of each groove in the bark of its trunk.

My concentration is strained today. I can’t seem to get the conversation I had with Dylan yesterday out of my mind. It isn’t like me to be so open, to share my thoughts so easily and disclose information about my past. In fact, I usually do everything in my power to keep it all inside.

I’ve been silently reprimanding myself ever since, but there was a vulnerability in the way he spoke to his father on the phone that intrigued me. Dylan gives the impression that he just cruises through life, but obviously things aren’t all sunshine and rainbows within his family. Still, I should have known better than to trust him so quickly. God knows I’ve made that mistake before.

“What are your plans for today?” Henley’s voice disturbs the silence of the creek, and my pencil falls from my grip onto the jetty.

Startled, I turn to find him standing behind me, sipping from an extra-large mug, barefoot and shirtless wearing nothing but a pair of green and blue boardshorts.

“Shit, Henley,” I curse. I knock the pencil forward trying to grasp it and it slips through the crack between the planks of wood. “Don’t fucking creep up on me when I’m in the zone. That was my favourite 6B pencil!”

“Sorry.” He lets out a chuckle. “Kristen just left to get groceries. I’m about to go for a surf if you wanna join me.”

On any other day, I would have taken him up on his offer. If someone had told me a year ago that one day I’d be living in a small coastal town where I’d learn how to surf, I never would have believed them. Surfing has never been something I’ve aspired to do, but it didn’t take Henley long to show me the ropes. I sucked at first, of course, but I like to think I’m getting the hang of it.

“Thanks for the invite but I’ve got lunch plans at Steve’s Tavern with Harper.” I slide another pencil out of the pencil box beside me and turn my attention back to my sketchbook.

“You’re having lunch at your workplace?” he questions. “On your day off?”

“I know. It’s weird,” I agree, looking back up to the tree I’m detailing. “But the chicken parmigiana is the best in town.”

I see Henley shrug in my peripheral. “That’s fair. You know I perfected the sauce when I was working there?”

I tilt my gaze to his, my expression unbelieving. “No, you didn’t.”

“No,” he says shortly, his lips curling into a straight line before he tips a finger in my direction and adds, “But it was my idea to add thyme to the schnitzel crumbs.”

“Sure it was.” I deadpan.

“I swear,” he replies boldly, his eyes wide. He glances down at my pyjama pants and bare feet. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be getting ready for lunch if you’re meeting Harper?”

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