Page 2 of From the Wreckage
The last thing she needs is a man who would only dull her light until she became as dark as me.
That night,I sit on the back porch with a beer, staring at the lake stretched out dark and still under a sliver of the moon. Somewhere across the water, the faint sound of warm laughter drifts through the trees. It does something to my chest that it shouldn’t.
I push down the loneliness and nostalgia that are the result of a life once filled with endless people, parties, and fame.
This is my reality now.
I take another drink as I stare into the darkness, trying not to think about everything I had before it went up in flames.
Trying not to think about the fact that I’ll probably die alone.
CHAPTER 2
Brielle
The sun iswarm on my shoulders as I walk down Main Street. The bag from The Pine & Page swings against my hip, an iced coffee in my other hand.
It’s quiet this time of day, just a few cars rolling through. I step into the crosswalk, glancing at the black truck stopped at the light.
An attractive man with dark hair, piercing eyes, and scruff shadowing a strong jawline stares back at me. He’s definitely not someone I’ve seen before. In a town this small, you notice new faces, even if they are just passing through.
I wonder if that’s what he’s doing. If someone like him moved here, word would’ve spread already. A man that hot would certainly have tongues wagging.
And then I wonder why I’m even thinking about a stranger at all.
I shift my bag higher on my arm and keep walking. I’ve been back in Silverpine for barely a month, and already I’m acting like the nosy people in town who have one eye on everyone else’s business.
The summer air is soft against my skin as I reach my dad’s old truck and climb inside. My phone beeps from the pocket ofmy purse, and I pull it out. There’s a message from my college roommate, Meghan. She and I have been sharing a small, off-campus apartment for the past two years.
Meghan: Wish you were here.
The text is followed by a photo of her on the beach, surrounded by two of our friends, LeAnn and Julia, and several shirtless guys—including Joey Callahan, the guy I’ve been dating since last fall.
I lean back in the seat, staring at his photo. It still feels strange that the golden-boy quarterback of the Glen Willow Wolves is interested in me. He flashed his charming smile at me after the game last November, then walked up to me at a party like I wasn’t just another face in the crowd. As he flirted with me, charming me with stories about his family, football, and courses, I realized we’re from two different worlds. He’s the big man on campus, while I’m from a town you can drive through in five minutes.
Yet, somehow, we’ve been dating since, and despite my fears that he’d find someone new this summer, he’s been regularly texting me. He wasn’t thrilled I was leaving Glen Willow for the summer, but I missed my dad, and there’s no way I was going to pass up a chance to go home.
There’s something about the way he’s standing so close to Meghan, his arm casually thrown over her shoulders, that bothers me.
I stuff my phone in the outside pocket of my purse and toss it on the passenger seat. I don’t bother responding to Meghan’s message. Instead, I put the truck in gear and head for home.
The air conditioner blasts on my warm skin, but I crack the window as I turn onto Main Street, letting the fresh air drift in. My dad’s classic rock station blares from the speakers, and I’malmost ready to change it when “Hysteria” by Def Leppard starts playing. I crank the volume, tapping my fingers to the beat as the scent of pine and damp moss rolls inside. I breathe deep, as if I can bottle it and take it back to campus when I return in August. I always miss this place when I’m gone.
One more year,I remind myself.Then you’ll finally have your bachelor’s degree.
I turn onto Pinecrest Drive, and the scent of the forest and wildflowers wafts through the window. I belt out the lyrics as I drive Dad’s old truck.
The miles pass, and before I know it, I’m turning onto Harbor Point Road. Gravel crunches under the tires as I pull up to Dad’s cabin, nestled against the trees on the far side of Silverpine Lake.
The smell of steak hits me before I’ve even killed the engine. I grin, grabbing my things and muttering, “Stubborn man just couldn’t wait,” as I exit the vehicle.
I head around the side of the cabin to the back deck. Dad stands at the grill in his old baseball cap, whistling while the smoke curls in the air.
“Hey, Dad. I’m back.”
He turns to me with a smile. “Hey, kiddo. I started the steaks.”
“Dad,” I groan. “I’m twenty-one. Can you please stop calling me that?” My gaze moves to the grill. “Of course, you started dinner. You couldn’t wait.”
