Page 10 of Invisible String
“No, I’m going to the cabin. I have the key.”
“Okay, I’ll text you when I get back if you want to come.”
“Stay safe.”
We hang up.
The heels hurt my feet, so I unbuckle them and slide sandals on. I sigh in relief. Once I’ve gathered all my belongings, I make sure to leave Lana a note letting her know I’ll be at the cabin.
Rolling my suitcase down the quiet sidewalk, a breeze hits me. The tipsiness I had is long gone. I’m antsy about getting out of here to relax in the quiet house. Maybe I’ll head down tothe lake. Although it’s summer, the temperature in Tahoe isn’t boiling hot. It’s in between—perfect—neither too cold nor too hot.
I could bathe in the sun, read books, and cook. Nothing beats home-cooked meals and fresh-baked desserts.
The Range Rover merges seamlessly onto the dead highway and thank God for that. If my driving is hazardous during the day, just imagine at night. My car has so many scrapes and dents it’s not even funny. The one-hour drive should be a breeze. I blast the radio and sing like I do, as if I’m at karaoke night.
The car idlesat the grocery parking lot. I’m grateful for the twenty-four-hour grocery store. It’s one a.m., and I have the munchies and need food for the house.
“Fuckin hell, why do I always get the defective carts!” I say to no one.
The store is partly empty. The music blasts throughout the store. I go through my mental list. In the produce section, I toss in everything needed for a salad. Then I make my way down the baking aisle. My mom is a baker, so my baking addiction comes from her. I toss chocolate chips, red dye, flour, sugar, and other ingredients into the basket. My cart piles up as I go down all the aisles and end up in the meat section. I laugh out loud. You would think I’m shopping for an army of people when it’s just me. I shake my head.You’re ridiculous, Rainey.
The back of my hair stands up. You know the feeling when you feel someone staring at you? I tug on my damn short dress. Why in the hell didn’t I change? My ass is hanging out. Turningmy body slightly, I peer from the corner of my eye. My lungs tighten.No, no, it can’t be.
He’s glancing at me with those haunting eyes. My grip tightens on the shopping cart, and I haul ass down another aisle. He’s not thin anymore. He’s layered in muscle with a square body. Those eyes. I’ll never forget Max’s beautiful green eyes and light tan skin. He’s no fourteen-year-old boy. He’s a man. A beautiful one.
Panicking, I toss household items into the cart, trying to distract myself. My body warms, and then the heat increases like a match lit on my back. He has to be behind me. I can sense him. Does he recognize me? Oh, of course, he wouldn’t. It’s been seven years. He left without a goodbye. My body idles when he passes right by me. The sound of my racing heart is all I can hear. He watches me and gazes into my eyes. It lasts a matter of seconds. Max drops his beer, Takis, and a deli sandwich on the belt of the register. I reminisced about him for years.
Max doesn’t turn back. He has the same expression he carried as a kid—expressionless—until he semi-warmed up to me. He was my first kiss. You can never forget your first kiss, especially when it meant something to you. Those lips moved in sync with mine. It was perfect. He clung to my body like he wanted it until the end of time. I watch as he pays and then walks off. Max Cano slips away again.
Finally, I expel a breath.
CHAPTER THREE
MAX
“Fuck!” I shout, unlocking the door to the house. That laugh shook me to my feet. How could I forget such a beautiful, carefree laugh like hers? Her laugh is a light switch to a dark room. I wonder if she still lives in Carson City or if she lives in Tahoe. She had a shitload of food. It only means she lives here, right?
She’s beautiful.
I’m unsure if those are even the right words because she left me speechless. I followed her when she stormed off like she was competing in a grocery game show. I wanted to see if it was really Rainey. When she gazed into my eyes, I confirmed it was her. Never did I think I’d run into her.
The door makes a loud squeak when I walk in. I’ve never been to Mike’s family’s vacation home. It’s designed to look like a cabin. It’s a three-bedroom house. The house smells stale, as if it’s been sitting for a long time. Which it probably has. Once I open the windows and air it out, I put the sandwich and beers in the fridge and leave one on the counter. With a twist of the bottle cap, I slump on the stiff leather sofa. The seven-hour drive was long, but much needed.
I scroll through Netflix, but decide to go to bed. It’s already two in the morning. I chug the last of the beer, and then I doze off.
The warm glowof the sun on my face jolts me awake. I shiver as a cool breeze enters through the open window. I’m used to Vegas’ blistering heat waves. Although this is nice—cold but comfortable. Reaching for my phone on the floor next to the sofa, I yawn and check the time. Damn, I slept till noon.
Standing, I stretch and wash up. I’m used to my routine of workouts in the morning at the gym. Since I don’t have a punching bag, I guess running it is. My shoes crunch on the gravel as I pick up speed toward the lake. The house is conveniently situated just a twenty-minute walk away. Mike’s place and the neighboring house are nestled so close together that they seem almost intertwined. These are the only two houses in the area, standing side by side like sentinels. Behind them stretches a dense, sprawling forest, its towering trees and thick underbrush providing a natural, secluded haven away from the bustle of the outside world.
The light breeze feathers through my hair. Inhaling, I take in the pine and the freshness of the water. I run along the lake and take a detour on a trail leading into the forest. This time of year, Tahoe has a lot of tourists. There are several people hiking.
It’s been years since I’ve been here. The memories of my childhood flood me.
“Happy birthday, sweetie,” Mom says with a smile on her pretty face. “Turning five is special.” She spreads butter on my pancakes and drizzles a lot of syrup, just like I love it.
“Thank you, Mom.”
My stomach growls when I’m about to take a bite. She laughs. “It’s a good thing I made you a stack of them.”
