Page 61 of Mountain Boss

I will never take a mattress for granted again.

Thinking of my new cushy setup, I head back into my bedroom and go straight for my step stool.

The moment my knees land on the mattress, I let out a squeal.

Then I plop onto my butt and drop onto my back, letting out another sound of excitement.

This boss of mine might confuse the hell out of me, but right now, I don’t care. He can Jekyll and Hyde me all he wants, so long as he doesn’t take this mattress away from me.

Thinking of the moment he called me Cookie reminds me that I still have half my cookie left.

I sit up and find it, along with my wrapped sandwich and water, in the six-inch crevice between the mattress and the wall.

Crossing my legs, I peel the paper away from the sandwich.

Usually I take my time eating. A habit from mostly eating alone with no place to be. But tonight, I eat fast.

I’ll probably suffer a stomachache from it. But, again, I don’t care. I want to enjoy this mattress as soon as possible. And I can ride out my stomachache on my new mattress.

After finishing my food in record time, I brush my teeth and go through the motions, not thinking about Sterling folding my pajamas.

It’s still early, but with the lights off, the curtains closed, andbothmy blankets pulled up to my chin, I know I’ll be asleep in moments.

Clasping my hands together, I close my eyes and pretend.

I pretend that I could make friends here.

That I could make a life here.

That I could be wanted here.

Chapter 43

Sterling

I setthe clipboard down on the top step of the Laundry Cabin and turn away.

It’s early.

Really early.

But I couldn’t sleep.

I watched out my window last night as Courtney turned off her lights. And I thought about her climbing into her bed. Onto the mattress.

The arguably shitty mattress, but still a mattress.

And I couldn’t turn my mind off.

Couldn’t stop thinking about what she must be thinking.

Couldn’t stop wondering how much she hates me.

I shove my hands into my pockets as I cut between bushes, my boots tamping down a path between her front door and mine.

And I still can’t stop thinking about her clothes.

How they felt in my hands.

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