Page 29 of Stranded

There. That’ll tide them over untilIfigure out what the hell’s going on.

I heard the shower turn off just when I finished getting dressed, so I don’t think we have long before Ronan joins us. And there’s some stuff I should probably fill Carter in on first.

The smell of coffee greets me as I tuck my phone away and push open the basement door.

Thank god for that. Everything makes more sense with a cup of coffee in hand.

Carter’s sprawled in one of the dining chairs, looking at his phone. Probably reading my messages. The sliding doors to the back deck are open, letting in the fresh air and sunlight.

“So,” I say to announce myself as I head for my kitchen to grab a mug and the coffee pot.

Carter turns to grin at me, setting his phone down. “So. Sounds like a hell of a story. Gonna tell me everything?”

I hesitate. This is the part I hadn’t really planned, because every time I tried to rehearse it in my head, something different came out.

I accidentally kissed this guy, Ronan, and he might be my roommate—I mean, tenant. What the fuck do I do now?

I saved Ronan from a beach and he’s moving in… but I swear we haven’t had sex yet. I mean, ever. I mean, not that I wouldn’t.

I’ve never met someone like him and he needs a place to rent, and I’m really hoping he likes me—I mean, me and the island and the house…

Yeah, no. I steady my hands on the coffee pot to pour a mug full, then set it down to grab the cream. “Where the fuck do I start?”

“The beginning?”

“Smartass.” I lean on the counter, clutching a little teaspoon for dear life. “Fine. So I rescued him from Maple Island lastnight. We got a drink at the bar. Turns out he’s living with shitty roommates, and he needs to move out. And pull up his grades in fashion school by the end of the year, or his parents won’t pay for his last semester.”

I plop down into the chair opposite Carter, but he isn’t saying a word. He just stretches his legs out over the sill of the sliding door, props one ankle over the other, and turns his head to me.

As I struggle for words, Carter just waits.

At last, I give him a helpless shrug. “I don’t know, man.” I raise my mug to blow on the surface of my coffee. “I don’t know.”

That’s not quite true. Idoknow, somewhere in my gut… but I can’t define it. Not that I care about definitions, but I do care about expectations: Ronan’s, my own, and everyone else’s.

I don’t want to set anyone up for disappointment.

Carter raises his eyebrows and whistles. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.”

“I…”

That nervous excitement is back, vibrating through my bones with giddiness about being named and recognized. I know Carter is right, but the rest of me wants to fight it. I want to say it’s impossible, that I barely know him. I can’t possibly explain the way my world tipped on its axis the moment I saw him.

“I think so,” I admit.

Truth is, Iknowso. Ronan feels inevitable. Not in a bad way, but in abigway that I wasn’t ready for.

I turn to watch the birds come and go from the feeder. It’s already mostly empty. I’d better fill it up today, or the woodpeckers will start hammering on Ronan’s window at dawn.

“Huh.” Carter tilts his head. “I’ve never seen you like this. You’ve had, what, a couple girlfriends? Three, right?”

“Technically. I’m not sure the first two count.”

Both times, it didn’t even last a month, so I promised myself I’d choose right the third time. Which is how I ended up inAlberta, teaching myself plumbing from Youtube at midnight because my ex’s parents’ pipes were frozen.

“Whatever,” Carter waves off the details. “Point is, it always felt like… well.” He sips his coffee hastily, pausing like he isn’t sure I’ll like the next part.

“What?” I look over at him. “Hit me with it, man.”

---