Page 21 of Kept By The Mountain Man

“I just needed to get home,” she says vaguely, and I frown.

Her hair is still wet from the shower, the wet strands dripping water onto her shirt, and I hate that she’s washed me off of her. There’s something about seeing her like this, fresh and beautiful, but without a trace of last night or this morning on her skin. It's like she’s trying to erase everything we shared.

“Why? Why not wake me or leave some kind of note?”

“I didn’t think that you would care,” she mumbles, and I shake my head, frustration boiling over.

“That’s not it, Evie. Come on. Tell me the truth. I thought that things were good between us.”

She chews on her bottom lip, her eyes starting to turn glassy, and an abhorrent thought hits me.

“Did I hurt you?” I choke out, and her eyes widen in shock.

“What? No! No, it’s not that,” she promises, and I frown.

“Then what is it? What happened, Evie?”

“Nothing,” she insists, and I growl under my breath, knowing there’s more she’s not saying.

“Evie—” I start, and her hands tighten into fists, her knuckles going white as she steels herself.

“It’s fake, okay! I forgot that for a moment, and when I woke up this afternoon in your bed, it just hit me, and I panicked. I needed a minute to get myself together before I had to face you and?—”

“It’s not fake,” I interrupt her, my voice firm. The words tumble out before I can stop them, my frustration finally pushing me past the point of keeping it all inside.

She blinks at me, her brows furrowing. Then it’s her turn to frown at me.

“What?” she asks, sounding dazed.

“It’s not fake. Not to me. It never was.”

“But when this started, we agreed it was fake.”

“How can you still think that this is fake between us? Haven’t I shown you how I felt?” My voice rises with the weight of everything I’ve been holding back. The vulnerability of it burns through my chest, but I push forward. She has to know.

Her mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

“I love you, Evie,” I tell her, and her mouth drops open. “I’ve been in love with you since I first met you. I didn’t think that I would ever have a shot with someone like you, which is?—”

“Someone like me?” she asks, incredulous, and I nod.

“You’re gorgeous, and everyone loves you. You’re so nice and generous, and optimistic. I’m none of those things.”

“You are,” she argues softly, taking a small step toward me. Her hand brushes her hair back nervously, water droplets still glistening on her skin.

I give her a look, and she lets out a small laugh.

“Well… maybe not the optimist part,” she amends, the tension between us shifting slightly.

“Still. You make people feel at ease. I’ve seen guys in town checking you out, and I know that anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“That’s why you never said anything?” she asks, her voice quieter now, her vulnerability starting to peek through.

I nod. “I figured that you would reject me, and then you might have quit to avoid things being awkward. I just… I needed you in my life. Any way that I could get you.”

“So that’s why you agreed with the fake dating thing,” she murmurs, finally piecing things together.

“Yeah. When I first heard that people in town said you told everyone that we were dating, I thought that I was dreaming. Then, when you mentioned it, well, it just seemed like maybe it was my sign to convince you that I could be good for you. I could be what you wanted.”

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