Page 59 of Tempting Promises
“That bad?”
“It was a lot of weird jars of things. I saw a few mushrooms and other things, but a lot of fucking butchering equipment.”
I shudder. “Great.”
Super comforting thinking of the murder shack out back.
“I’ll go rummage through it, see if there’s anything we can use.”
I nod. “I’d love some lotion.”
His eyes cut to mine. “Lotion? You think there’s going to be lotion in the shed where the owners probably strung up carcasses?”
My face scrunches at that image in my head. “Well, now I don’t. But maybe there’s some kind of provisions we can use.”
Rowan shakes his head, clearly thinking that would be a bad idea.
Whatever. If we’re stuck here, I need to make some provisions. So far, we’re using a twig with the charcoal from the fire to brush our teeth. I, thankfully, brought a hairbrush in my pack, so at least my hair isn’t a rat’s nest.
For soap...that’s been, a little tricky. We’ve been smashing together ash and leaves to make some kind of something we boil inwater, rub ourselves down, and rinse it off the best we can. It’s not perfect, but at least we’re not smelly with bad breath.
My skin, though, is dying. I have a horrible burn from the wind and cold on my legs and a little on my cheeks. It’s freaking freezing out there.
Still, we’re surviving—mostly thanks to Rowan.
I look out the window, thinking about the many mistakes we’ve made in this place and how, if it ever got out, my world would be flipped on its side. My sister would never forgive me, that’s for sure. Not to mention the incredible amount of gossip the town would have with this.
I’ve done some pretty dumb shit, but sleeping with him takes the cake.
We need to get out of here. That’s all I know. Once I’m back in the real world, I won’t feel some insane need to jump his bones.
It has to be this place because I have never once thought about him this way. Clearly, it’s the weather or the woods.
My stomach rumbles loudly in the quiet space. God, I could go for a steak right now.
Rowan clears his throat. “Here,” he says, handing me half a protein bar.
“I already had my half.”
“I know, take mine. I’m fine and you’re hungry.”
“No,” I say quickly. “You have to eat too.”
“Charlotte, eat the bar, please. Your stomach is growling, you’re hurt, and I promise, I’m fine. I need to go out and get more ice to melt so we have water, and I’m going to try to cut some more wood. We only had enough for today and I can’t let the fire go out.”
Him giving me his half makes me feel selfish and petulant. We’re both hungry, and every time I’ve needed anything, Rowan has done or given it to me, so I didn’t have to suffer. He’s gotten wood, made the fire, and carried me out to the back wooded area so I could do my business not hanging off the side of the porch.
But him giving me his ration of the food makes me burst into tears.
This is too much, he shouldn’t be nice to me.
“I’m so sorry!” I say as my sobs tear through my chest.
“What the hell?”
“I-I’m such abitch! God, why am I such a bitch? You should h-hate me. I know you do, and youshould!” I cry harder.
I seriously hate myself. My life is falling apart, and I just want to go home.
