Page 9 of New River Gorge(ous)
A screeching noise hits my eardrums. “Who’s there, Brooke?” June yells from somewhere within the house.
Brooke studies me while I stare at her and try not to notice how very pretty she is, or the small scar to the left of her eye. Stitches that didn’t heal quite right.
She jolts me back to reality when she says, “Uh … ok. I don’t know what to tell her. Who are you?” Her hand is no longer extended, and I’m an idiot.
Annoyed at myself now, I answer, but my mouth is dry, and my upper lip sticks to my front teeth. I must look exactly like Beast interacting with Belle. Thinking ofBeauty and the Beastmakes me think of Addie, and thinking of Addie always brings out the worst in me. It’s not a total surprise to me that when the words come, they are biting. “Dr. Beckett Whistler.”
She rolls her eyes at my pretentiousness.
Who really introduces themselves so formally when we’re neighbors? I am the opposite of a friendly neighbor.
“Brooke?” June calls again. “Who’s there?”
My eyes are malfunctioning because I’m not telling them to stare at her, but they’re locked on her pretty face, and when she hollers back, “No one, Meemaw!” and slams the door, I know I royally messed up.
I tromp back to my house, letting thoughts of Addie flood my brain. I haven’t felt anything for a woman in a very long time, but I feltsomethingjust then. I don’t like it.
My phone buzzes in my back jeans pocket, and I pull it out. It’s my best friend, Ben. “Hey,” I say into the phone.
“Hey, a couple of us are going hiking. You should come.”
“Yeah. When and where?”
“Logan met a tourist … so Endless Wall at six.”
“He didn’t want to take her to Nuttleberg? Better places to make out along that trail,” I quip. Logan is definitely a ladies’ man, and he certainly uses his charms on the tourists.
Ben’s laugh is mirthless. “C’mon, Beck. You can’t fault him for looking for love—”
“Yeah, well, I found it already, and we know what happened there.”
“Ok. Beck is blue, we get it. You’ve been blue for what, four years now? It’s time to get back out there, man.”
“You try it first.” It’s a low blow, and I know it, but I don’t care. Telling me to get over Addie is like telling Ben to get over his first motorcycle. It’s a rust bucket on two wheels, but he won’t give it up.
“I’m going to let that one go, but are you coming to Endless Wall?”
I take a breath, hold it, count to three, and blow it out again. “Fine, but if Logan gets too handsy, I’m out.”
“We know,” Ben retorts before hanging up.
5
Brooke
“Let me see you, Brookie,” Meemaw demands after I slam the door on Dr. Beckett Whistler. What a pretentious jerk. It’s too bad, because he’s incredibly attractive. Chocolate brown eyes, short red beard, strong, chiseled jaw, muscular arms that aren’t as jacked as Matt’s—but he has the personality of an ogre.
“Coming, Meemaw.” I let my shoulders slump. Dr. Beckett Whistler definitely was checking me out as I stood there, but he’s a jerk. So, that flare of attraction I felt at first, it just can’t be anything.How disappointing—again.
I make my way through Meemaw’s kitchen to her living room, where Matt sits with her on a faded floral couch. Meemaw’s foot is elevated on a footstool, and the ancient rabbit ear antenna TV is on. It’s playing a black-and-white episode of “The Beverly Hillbillies” because there’s Granny Clampett doing something questionable.
I force a smile as I join Meemaw on the other side of the couch. “Brookie Cookie.” Meemaw’s eyes flash with worry. “Sit.” She looks at the TV. “Wish I could find me some Texas tea.”
I sit and she turns her beady blue eyes to me.
“What’s wrong, gal?”
Matt snorts, but my glare over the top of Meemaw’s head turns it into a cough real quick.
