Page 21 of Off the Beaten Path

“It’s gutted.”

My eyebrows lift. “Completely?”

“Just the main living areas and the bathroom.” Her fingers flex on the counter until her knuckles turn white. “The bedroom just needs a paint job, and the outside needs landscaping. I have the plans Jimmy and I came up with.”

I nod, thinking through the details. Winter is always slower. I’m only overseeing a couple of minor projects between now and spring. This sounds more intensive, but I like being busy.

“I can come look at it tomorrow,” I say.

Wren watches me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, twin half moons formed in the space between her brows. I have an unwise urge to smooth it out with the pad of my thumb, but I shake the thought away.

“You’d really do that?”

Her blue eyes look brighter, standing out in stark contrast against the puffy redness. Her skin is paler than it is in the summer, not tinged with that barely there golden glow that makes her look like sunshine. Even her hair has frizzed in the rain and her lips are chapped from the cold. I’ve always thought she looks unbreakable, unfazed, like Mia. But their differences have never been so plain.

Wren looks like she’s barely keeping her head above water, and something inside me snaps because of it. “Yeah, Wren, I’d do it.” I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anything I wouldn’t do if she looks at me like that.

She holds my gaze for a long moment, looking like she’s assessing me, trying to find her footing on this new, uneven ground between us.

Then her nose wrinkles and she sniffs the air. “The grilled cheese is burning.”

Elementarystudentsshouldn’tbeallowed to put on theater productions. This year, Fontana Ridge Elementary is performingSeussical the Musical, and I got roped into building the sets. The plus side of the musical is that since June is a background performer and it just so happens to be the night of the Galentine’s Auction, I have an iron-clad excuse for getting out of being a bachelor. The downside is that Charlotte is in charge of costume design, meaning we have to spend a lot of mornings working in close proximity.

“Morning, Holden,” Charlotte says from behind where I’m crouched over the frame of an arch I’ve been working on. The gym is empty this period, and I’ve spent the last thirty minutes enjoying working in silence. Once the first gym class of the day starts, I won’t be able to even hear myself think.

I stand, wiping my dusty palms on my jeans. “Hey, Charlotte. How was your weekend?”

A smile touches her lips. “Not sure if it was as eventful as yours.”

After the run-in with Wren at Matty’s and then what happened with her in her house yesterday, I sort of forgot about seeing Charlotte Saturday night.

I grip the back of my neck, flexing my hand in an attempt to loosen some of the tension there. “About that—”

“We should get dinner sometime,” she cuts me off, green eyes wide with expectation, and guilt pricks at me. Charlotte is forward, for sure, but I recognize the loneliness in her eyes, know exactly how cold the other side of the bed feels every night.

I sigh, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jeans. The left pocket is worn so thin that I can stick my pinky finger through the hole in the fabric. “Charlotte, Wren and I—”

“Oh,” she says, and I peel my gaze from the speck of dirt on the floor and meet hers. Her eyes blow wide. “Oh.” This one she says slower, drawing it out. “You and Wren?”

“Wren and I, what?” I ask, not following her line of questioning.

“You’re together.” She says this almost to herself, nodding as if she’s figuring out a complex equation. “I knew you two were necking in the hallway at Matty’s.”

“What is with thenecking?” I grumble under my breath.

Charlotte looks at me, blond brows raised so high on her forehead they disappear beneath her bangs. “You are together, right?”

I don’t know what makes me say it except that if Charlotte thinking I’m with Wren means that she will stop pursuing me, then I think it’s worth it. “Yes,” I say slowly, almost like a question. “We’re together.”

Despite asking the question, Charlotte looks completely taken aback by the answer. “I can’t believe it. How long have you been together?”

“Uh,” I say, running a hand over my beard. “Four months.” Seems best to stick as close to the truth as possible.

Pink creeps into Charlotte’s cheeks, and she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “So when I sent you those…photos a few weeks ago.”

I blow out a heavy breath, wishing I could be literallyanywherebut here. Clearing my throat, I say, “I deleted them, and—”

She waves her hands wildly, cutting me off. “Let’s pretend this never happened.”

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