Page 2 of Where We Belong
“A creep?” the guy repeats, but this time, there’s a trace of humor in his voice, which does calm me down, even the tiniest bit. He doesn’t appear to have a weapon on him and hasn’t made a move to rip my head off yet, which also helps.
“What else do you call a guy who walks in on naked girls inside their homes?” I reply, still huffing and puffing. Maybe this isn’t the moment to argue, but I’m riled up, and when that happens, I tend to not be able to stop myself from sputtering stupid shit.
He lifts his hands in defense. “Okay, that’s not what I—”
“Then leave!” I say, pointing at the door with the biggest eyes I can make.
He stammers an answer, but I only make my eyes rounder.
“Fine, jeez,” he ends up saying as he takes a step back. “But meet me outside once you’re decent.”
Decent my ass.
I groan like a fire-breathing dragon as I watch his every step until, finally, the door closes behind him and I’m alone.
I blink, staring at the door. What in the world just happened?
As I rush into a pair of clean jeans and a T-shirt, all the while cursing my poor luck, my mind starts spinning. A stranger just saw me naked. Something’s clearly wrong with this rental. Where will I live all year if I can’t have this place? Usually, I’d start hyperventilating from the anxiety of it all, but I think I’m past that stage. Instead, in a state that’s almost trance-like, I walk to the door, then down the porch steps, where the man is leaning against the railing, arms crossed in front of his broad chest.
Now that I’m dressed and only half-frightened, I take a second to study him. He’s young—maybe late twenties or early thirties—and has one of the sharpest jaws I’ve ever encountered. Straight nose, strong cheekbones, and deep-set eyes, although in the darkness, I can’t quite tell the color. He’s standing in the shadow of a tall pine tree, and although I can’t make out every detail of him, he feels familiar. Like I’ve seen him before. Or maybe that’s just my post-trauma brain playing tricks on me. I’m still not a hundred percent sure I’m getting out of tonight alive.
I clear my throat, bringing his attention from his unlaced boots to my face. “So, are you going to explain what’s going on here?”
He snickers. So he finds this funny now? “How about you start?” he says.
Fine, then. “I’m renting this place,” I repeat, also crossing my arms.
“Impossible. I’m the property manager, and the cabin’s free this week.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. Ididrent it.” Cocking my head, I add, “Although if barging in on guests while they’re fresh out of the shower is how you manage this place, then I want a refund.”
His jaw ticks. “I told you, it was supposed to be empty. I thought someone had broken in when I saw the lights turned on in there.” Shifting position against the railing, he asks, “Who’d you talk to for the rental?”
“I don’t remember.” When he looks at me with expectant eyes, I keep my smart-ass comment to myself, and I grab my phone from my pocket, ignoring the text from my mom asking me if I paid the electricity bill last month. I scroll through my emails until I find the rental confirmation. “Some guy named Aaron, I think.”
The stranger closes his eyes and throws his head back, this time with a smile skimming his lips. Under his breath, I’d swear I hear a “fucker.”
I don’t know what else to say, so I stand there with the still-warm September air ruffling my wet hair. Now that I know this was some kind of mix-up and not some murder plan, I feel kind of bad about yelling at this guy. Although hedidogle me.
“Look,” he says, “I’m really sorry about this whole thing. It was a misunderstanding. I’ll talk to Aaron in the morning.”
I nod. “So I can stay?”
He rubs one large palm over his eye, seeming almost as tired as I am. “Yeah, you can stay.”
“And no more creep moves?”
He laughs, the sound deep and clear. “I promise. Plus, I didn’t see anything.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t just lie to my face,” I say with a small smile.
He laughs again, then takes a step my way. The moonlight catches his face at another angle, allowing me to get a better glimpse at him, and I have to say, he’s good-looking. Very good-looking. I usually prefer the long-haired type, but his close crop fits him well. Again I’m hit with the feeling that I’ve seen this grin before, but I can’t quite put my finger on where.
“Can we start over?” He extends a hand my way. “I’m Finn.”
My smile drops instantaneously, a gasp escaping my parted lips.
“You!”
