Page 12 of Relief Pitcher

TEAM TAP THAT GROUP TEXT

Ethan: Do you think Ty’s running around naked in the woods by now? I always thought there was a hippie streak to him.

Austin: I bet he’s trying desperately to make a fire so he can cook s’mores but can’t get it to take because all the wood’s wet.

Dom: I bet he’s sleeping in his car and was too proud to tell us he’s stranded and made the lumberjack up. Anyone do a reverse image search to make sure he didn’t steal that guy’s photo from the internet?

Ty: You guys realize I can read what you’re writing, right?

Ethan: Definitely.

Austin: Yup.

Dom: That’s the fun part.

Ty: He’s very much real. I’d go take another picture, but he’s in bed, and that would be creepy.

Austin: Since when aren’t you creepy?

Ty: Fair point, but I do have standards. And that’s a step too far.

Ethan: Get a photo of him holding a mug of coffee tomorrow morning while flashing a peace sign, and we’ll know it’s real.

Ty: Want me to get a copy of tomorrow’s newspaper to go with it too? [eyeroll emoji]

Austin: Great idea!

Ty: If I can’t get out, do you think any newspaper delivery could get in?

Dom: It makes me uncomfortable when Ty is the logical one. I need a shower.

CHAPTER7

TYLER

Not a surprising discovery, but it turned out I wasn’t cut out for forest life. As I stared at the lights from various electronics hitting the ceiling, I couldn’t shake the creepy sensation that someone or, even worse, somethingwas lurking on the other side of the window mere feet from me. Probably Bigfoot’s more dangerous cousin with a taste for blood.

I carefully rolled to my other side but sank into the middle of the bed. Again. Between a spring poking me and a support bar in the sofa bed breaking an hour into lying on it, I was probably better off trying to sleep on the couch cushions despite being too long for them. I missed my bed at home and the familiar sounds of Dom’s house. Creaks and groans that didn’t leave me imagining a pack of feral cougars waiting to devour me as soon as I fell asleep. Not the fun type of cougars either.

After tossing and turning for hours, I’d given up any hope of falling asleep. I climbed off the bed, tried to stretch the ache in my back, and settled into Cooper’s worn recliner. It wasn’t much better than the couch, but hopefully good enough to doze off in.

Except I couldn’t. The howling wind kept my consciousness on edge enough that the relocation did nothing except ease the growing back pain. Eventually, I turned on the TV and turned off the volume since Cooper had had captions on earlier. After a few minutes of channel surfing, I landed on a true-crime channel. I’d never understood the appeal. Wasn’t it like intentionally scaring yourself or enjoying the suffering of others? But as the episode continued, I kind of got why people were interested. The bad guy got what he deserved and the victim’s family got justice. As much as they could in a legal sense, anyway.

I pulled another blanket off the sofa bed and tucked it around myself to fight the chill. A chill that hadnothingto do with the episode about a woman trying to escape some creep she’d dated who’d tracked her down to a log cabin where she was hiding out. I was too invested in the story to change the channel. I jumped when I heard a creak from the back of the house and pulled the blanket higher up my body like a shield. The next creak was closer.

If I got murdered in the creepy forest cabin, what would the guys say about me on the true-crime show made about my case? That I lit up a room? That I had a smile and a joke for everyone? That I knew how to suck a mean dick? Nah, they would probably roast the shit out of me.Ty loved to crochet sweaters for rocks. The silly guy left them all over town to make people smile.I couldn’t let them get the last word, so I grabbed a remote control as a weapon.

I gripped the remote so hard my fingers ached as a dark figure filled the doorway. “I’m too pretty to die!” I threw the remote at the intruder.

“Were you hoping this would knock me out or that I would change the channel for you?” Cooper’s voice was rough with sleep.

My logical brain caught up with me. “Sorry. Heard some sounds and freaked myself out with the shows.” I gestured to the TV.

He stepped farther into the room, and I could see him in the light from the TV. His sexy hair was down and wild with waves.

“Thought you didn’t watch true crime.”

“I don’t, but I was curious.”

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