Page 11 of The Rookie
“Siblings?”
She shakes her head. “I’m an only child. It was only ever me and Mom.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
It’s in this moment that I realize I’ve been acting like an asshole. Just because I’m mad about, well,everything, it doesn’t make it okay to take it out on her.
But Summer is an easy target. A stranger. Someone I plan on never seeing again. But even though I may not know her, I can’t help hating the thought that she’s alone in this world without any family.
“So, breakfast must have been a whole new experience for you then.” I smile, nodding back toward the house where my loud-ass family probably frightened her.
“It was very eye-opening,” she says with a chuckle. “But in a good way. I’ve never experienced that. Never had a big family. And now it’s just me.”
Even if I’ve felt lost and out of control lately, her words remind me that I’m a lot more fortunate than most. I have a family, people I can count on and who’ll support me through the shitstorm currently facing us. Still, that doesn’t mean everything is magically going to be okay, and that’s what I’m struggling with.
How’s life ever supposed to be “normal” again?
“They love you, you know,” Summer says softly. “They just want you to be okay.”
I nod. “I know.” When the wind picks up and Summer wraps her arms around herself, I say, “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your cabin.”
It’s about a hundred yards from the house, and we’re quiet most of the way. When we get there, Summer opens the door and pauses in the entryway.
“So, after you help Austen in the garage ...”
I peer around her, realizing the woodburning stove is empty and the place feels cold. “Did you start a fire last night?”
She looks over her shoulder at the stove. “No. I don’t know how. City-girl problems.” She shrugs.
Shit. “You must have been freezing last night.”
She gives me a sheepish look. “Yeah. I slept in my coat and scarf. I figured you guys were crazy living out here like this.”
“Well, we might be crazy, but we don’t have to sleep in our coats.” I gesture to the woodstove. “May I?”
“Oh my goodness, please do.” She steps aside and ushers me in with a wave of her hand.
I came here to force her to leave after I cussed her out.
Now I’m offering to make her comfortable and warm.
6
SUMMER
“Ihave an idea,” I say after following Logan into the small cabin. “What if we just be honest with each other?”
He stops and glances over his shoulder at me. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m going to lie to you?”
“No. Definitely not. But I do think that as humans, we have a tendency to gloss over the tough subjects to avoid showing our true emotions.”
His brows lift. “Gloss?” Disdain drips off the word—like he’s suddenly assessing me and wondering if I’m some new-age, voodoo-loving therapist.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Gloss. To give off a superficially attractive appearance or impression.”
“Right.” Logan scratches at the stubble on his chin, and then nods. “I guess that’s true.”
“So, all I’m saying is, what if we don’t do that with each other?”
