Larson’s eyes widened and darkened, focusing intensely on mine. He placed a hand on the floor behind me and leaned toward me, intimidating me with his superior size.

His face was so close his wine-scented breath caressed my face as he spoke in a low, almost menacing tone.

“And you—need to accept that it’s possible for someone to like you just for yourself and not because you’re incredibly beautiful.”

I shook my head, screwing my face into a frown. “I don’t… oh my God, my marshmallows are on fire.”

I jumped up and pulled my stick away from the stove, blowing on the flaming sugary lump to extinguish it.

Hurrying to the trash can, I scraped the charred mess into it then turned to the sink and started filling one of the large pots, keeping my back to Larson and chattering briskly as I worked.

“I’m not really hungry for dessert anyway. Those peanut butter crackers really filled me up. I’m just going to go ahead and take a bath. Why don’t you turn on the radio or something? I found sports talk on there earlier—oh—thanks.”

Larson had come up behind me. He reached around and lifted the heavy water-filled pot and carried it to the stove top. He set it down with a thunk and looked back at me, hands coming to rest on his hips.

His eyes held a challenging gleam. “So what do you think about what I said?”

Ugh.He wasn’t going to drop it.

My words came out in a ragged whisper as I fought for oxygen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t? I saw your screensaver on your phone—the picture of you and Heidi and your other friend—Mara, was it? You were decked out like a supermodel in a magazine—hair, makeup, sexy dress. Either it was a one-time aberration, or that was how you used to look all the time. Based on what Heidi said at dinner the other night, I gather you’ve changed your whole look since breaking up with your fiancé. Girls don’t usually go out of their way to looklessbeautiful. You hate compliments about your appearance. My guess is you’re trying to scare guys away—some guys anyway—apparently overgrown teenagers like that Jason character are all right with you.”

I stared at him, frozen to my spot, though heat was spreading rapidly throughout my body.

It was anger. Or embarrassment. Or maybe both.

Here I thought I’d been so careful, so vigilant about my privacy, and he’d seen right through me. That was frightening.

I was shocked to realize part of me was drawn to the thought, actually wanted the unique experience of being completely open and honest with a guy.

The rest of me wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible. But there was nowhere to go.

Without responding to him, I started toward the bathroom where I intended to stay—all night, if necessary, to avoid this conversation.

As I passed him, Larson’s hand came out and grabbed my upper arm.

“Where’re you going, Kenley? You can’t run away from me here—might as well talk to me.”

I jerked out of his grasp and continued on my course to the safety of the bathroom. “You know what? You’re a real know-it-all ass when you drink.”

The bathroom door slammed behind me with a satisfying clap, and I pressed my back against the cool wood, willing my heart rate and respiration to return to something close to normal.

NINETEEN

Tell Me

I stood in front of the sink, looking around.

Okay, what to do now?

Digging my toothbrush out of my toiletry bag, I brushed then started filling the tub with cold water.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. A cold bath might be just the thing right about now. My skin broke out in goose bumps at the thought.

Glancing around, I realized all the towels were out in the main room with Larson, still draped over nails in the wall near the woodstove where we’d hung them to dry alongside the t-shirt he’d washed with shampoo.

Great. I was about to submerge myself in hypothermia-inducing water and then drip dry.