Page 41 of Show Me How
She opens her door. “I should leave you to eat by yourself.”
“But you won’t.”
“Don’t test me.”
“I like when you get pissed off, princess. You look dangerous.”
“Do you have a fear kink or something?”
With a low laugh, I say, “I said you were dangerous, not that I was afraid of you.”
She doesn’t answer before getting into her car and starting it up. I follow her down the gravel roads through the campground and past the few cabins that I’ve been to during my few stays at Shimmer Lake. It’s been years, but I have quite a few fun memories here.
Once she pulls into the cleared area amongst the trees surrounding cabin twelve, I wait for her to park before joining. I figure that she’s still annoyed with me, so I give her space to get inside the cabin alone while grabbing our food and the six-pack in the trunk.
I’m half-surprised when I don’t find the cabin door locked. I step inside and survey the space, my hands still full.
It’s clean and smells like lemons from whatever products were used in here. There’s a fireplace against the wall in the small living area, along with an old brown couch, a scratched coffee table, and a flannel-printed armchair. The kitchen is nothing more than a bit of counter, a white fridge, and an oven that’s without a doubt older than me. The homey feel is unmatched, though. Despite this place’s age or décor, it feels like what a cabin should feel like. Authentic and original.
The temperature is alarming, though. It’s fucking freezing.
“I don’t have plates,” Millie says.
Turning toward the sound of her voice, I stare at her as she comes out of the bathroom. The lighting in here is so different from the studio—more intimate. Her posh outfit appears different here. It’s still ridiculous to me for someone to wear a skirt this close to October, but I’m starting to piece together that Millie isn’t the type to care about that.
“You don’t need a fork and knife to eat your pizza, then?” I tease.
“No. I’m saving those for when I want to stab you in the crotch later.”
My laugh is rough, unexpected as it tears its way up my throat. Millie tries not to smile, her cheeks twitching.
“You’re vicious.”
“I’m not usually,” she admits, passing me on her way to the couch.
Without her heels on, she’s got to be nearly a foot shorter than me. Staring, I join her and drop the pizza and beer on the coffee table. She watches me open the pizza box and licks her lips.
“I didn’t think you were really going to split it half and half,” she notes, examining the pizza.
“I don’t joke about pizza.”
“Noted.”
Tucking her legs beneath her, she leans over the couch and snags the first slice from the ham-and-pineapple side. With the drooping corner hanging in front of her mouth, she darts a look at me.
“Don’t watch me eat. It’s weird.”
“I’m not,” I mutter, reluctantly looking away.
She lets it go, and I take a piece for myself, immediately biting into it. My stomach growls, and a soft giggle follows.
“Don’t laugh at me while I eat. It’s weird,” I tease between bites.
“Don’t be a copycat.”
Spreading my legs slightly, I lean over them and look at her again. “You’re going to have to figure out what you’re doing here sooner rather than later. If I overstepped with my offers, I’m sorry. I’ve got a habit of jumping in to help my friends without thinking about whether they want it or not.”
With a sigh, Millie lowers her pizza. “It’s not that I don’t want your help. If I accept it, I’ll be no better here than I was back home.”
