Page 49 of The Cabin

I stand up to stretch, my shirt riding up my stomach, and turn towards the front door when I hear the prophetic and infamous sound of Grayson’s work boots stomping around. His eyes go straight to my exposed skin.

Listen, I know I’ve emphasized, like really driven home, the fact that my self-esteem is in the garbage and I have essentially hated myself for most, if not all, of my twenties. Plus the fact that I had a really hard time not feeling wanted and desired, which really messed with my mental health and the way I view my worth.

BUT, and this is a huge ‘but,’ I am not, will not, refuse to be ashamed of my body. I feel worthless as a potential partner. I felt worthless as a wife. I was made to feel like who I am as a human being isn’t attractive or worth being with, BUT, I spent years hating my body, and I crawled tooth and freaking nail out of that hole a long time ago. If I am proud of one thing, it is the work I did to unlearn societal bullshit that was force fed down my throat. For some reason, those things are separate to me. I felt ugly toBrianwhich made me feel like shit because he was my husband and was supposed to think I was beautiful. But I didn’tfeelugly. Like overall, in general. I know I’m not ugly. Nobody is freaking ugly (except him). And now that I think about it, why the hell didn’t I have that perspective for literally every other part of who I am and my personality? My worthiness as a wife? Where in the trauma hole did those things separate?

I say all this to explain this next thought: look all you want, lumberjack. I take up space. I’m going to keep taking up space as I exist on this planet. And he should feel so privileged to even be allowed anywhere near my space. He’s actually manhandled me and carried me around a startling amount of times for the duration of time in which we’ve known each other. And he hasn’t groveled at my feetoncefor allowing him the opportunity. Just another thing to add to my Reasons to Be Mad at Grayson For list.

And number one on that list? The bar. Number two? The bossiness. Well, can that be on two lists at once or do I have to choose? Because it also meets the qualifications to be on my Reasons I Find Grayson Smokin’ Hot list. Although, I’d phrase it differently on that list. I’d label it, ‘alpha vibes.’ I think that would actually take the number one spot if it was on the second list. So, I feel like fair is fair and it should go on the Hot one. Which means I need a different number two for the Mad list. How about…forcing me to live here?

Honestly, this is a huge upgrade. What about…never letting me do the dishes?

Don’t say anything. I heard it as soon as I thought it. Who in their right mind would be mad about not having to do dishes? I guess I’ll put all the pranks down. Seems kind of lame. Maybe calling me, ‘lollipop?’ Oh well. I’ll think of something, I’m sure. He does about three hundred infuriating things a day.

“All done sawing your boner off?” I run my tongue across my teeth trying to keep a straight face. There is nothing less funny than laughing at your own joke during delivery. It’s all about the delivery.

“Finished getting yourself off reading Shrek porn?” he bites back. That’s not bad, actually. Seven out of ten for content, four out of ten for delivery. He was too pissed at my comment to really pack the right punch.

“Well, someone’s gotta do it. Might as well be me.” Cocky Sol. I likey. “Besides, I do it the best anyways…”

My satisfaction (apart from Shrek) comes from the fact that I see him pause washing his hands to grip the sink. How far can I take this? I need to keep myself in the lead of our imaginary competition and for some reason, this is eating him alive. It’s almost too easy.

I saunter over to the kitchen

“Oh, you know what. Can I borrow your phone? Jade gave me her number before we got onto the dance floor (no she didn’t) the other night. Maybe I’ll call her up and let her have a go at it…” He is so tense. Knuckles white, breathing labored. How is talking about bedroom stuff his kryptonite? Of all things to panic about for a man who looks the way he does…

In a burst of bravery, I slink my fingers into his back, right pocket and pull his phone out. The lock screen on his phone lights up and my eyebrows knit together. His wallpaper is a picture of me laughing while all those baby pigs tried to get a kiss from me.

I don’t have any time to ask him about it. His response is immediate and everything I could ever hope and dream for. The danger in his eyes. It’s enough to make a girl pass out. In a good way.

I take off towards the bedroom before he can say anything, hoping I’ll be able to shut the door and lock it in time. Do barn doors lock? I hope so.

I slide it shut as quickly as possible, but, alas, there’s no lock. I look around in a tizzy trying to find a place to hide. There’s nowhere. In an act of pure panic, I slip his phone down the front of my leggings just before the barn door crashes open.

I whip around and soak up the gleam in his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest. He is a predator with eyes on his prey, on the hunt, stalking towards me. I take one step back for every step he takes forward. It’s when I hit the edge of the bed that I know I’m in deep shit.

I’m pushed back onto the comforter and before I can even attempt to scurry away, Grayson’s large frame is towering over me. One arm on each side of me holding himself up just enough to not be touching, but only enough that every time I take a breath, we do end up touching.

“Where’s my phone, lollipop?” His tone drips promise. Of what? I’m not sure.

“I need it,” I breathe, making sure not to break eye contact. His sigh of annoyance fans across my face.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I have to call Jade. I have needs.” Okay, I probably didn’t need to add that last part but the experience of watching his eyes darken this close up can count as my next five birthday gifts.

“You are not calling Jade.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“What are you, my dad?” His jaw clenches. “Oh, sorry, I meantdaddy.”

WHO IS SHE? This Sol brought to you by sheer fucking balls, no tequila involved. Competitive Sol is out to annihilate. Or is it Feisty Sol? Horny Sol? Been Reading Smut While Lusting After My Neighbor for Weeks Sol? Who’s to say?

“I’ll go searching if I have to.” He moves to support himself on his forearms. Our faces now millimeters apart. So close I can see my reflection in his pupils. I look…I look ready to be dicked down, I’m just going to be honest.

“Be my guest.”

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