Page 45 of Strung Along

How many women have similar laughs? And moved from British Columbia to Alberta recently? Anna Banana? I’m ashamed that I didn’t put that one together.

God, even her body makes it all that clearer. I don’t remember details from that single accidental photo, but I remember seeing curves and pale skin. And the memory of Anna in the window earlier is as crystal clear as ever.

It’s obvious now.

Anna is my mystery woman.

18

ANNALISE

Brody’s wordscome to an abrupt halt.

Something sour twists and turns in the air. “Did I say something wrong?” I ask softly.

He won’t look at me. I tell myself that’s because he’s concentrating on driving, but that wouldn’t explain the grip he just had on my thigh. The way he thought to reach for me when I was anxious as if it were a simple instinct despite the road conditions.

I’ve never known a man to have that instinct around me before.

The heat from his palm still burns my thigh. I can feel every indent of his fingertips as if he never removed his hand at all. I’ve never wanted to be manhandled before, but if that was anything like what I could expect from a guy like Brody, maybe I’ve been missing out.

“No. You’ve never done anything wrong to me,” he says.

“Then what’s going on?”

I should tread carefully and not push him to open up, but I can’t help but want to know everything about this man. Every ideal and personality trait that he’s been hiding. The things that make him smile and laugh freely. I want to crack him open andsee if he’s as mushy inside as I expect he could be. That starts with something as simple as this.

“I’m just tired, Anna.”

I nod, fighting the voice in my head that begs me to keep poking. “You work hard. The long hours must be exhausting.”

“You work hard too.” It’s a briskly spoken statement but sincere nonetheless.

“Thank you. One day, I hope to have something to show for it all. A salon of my own, maybe.”

He nods silently, and I finally tear my gaze away from him, staring out the windshield. Tucking my hands between my thighs, I roll my lips and try not to pay too much attention to the glistening of the half-plowed roads. I have to get over this fear sometime. It’s not healthy to rely on someone else to take me places. The lack of food in my fridge from not going shopping is a prime example of that. Brody doesn’t reply to my statement for the rest of the drive. Something is going through his head that he doesn’t want to share, and I don’t have any business forcing him to. Letting someone sit in their feelings has always been something that I’ve struggled with. It’s hypocritical, considering I like to do the same thing when I’m upset.

Five minutes later, he pulls the truck into the same tire tracks he left behind this morning and shifts it into park. I fidget in my seat, unsure of how to say goodbye. Am I just supposed to hop out without a word?

When he breaks the silence first, I sigh in relief, uncaring if he notices.

“Monday morning?”

“Yep.” I keep my voice steady so he can’t pick up on my nerves.

Maybe it’ll be warmer tomorrow, so I can walk to my pole class. Or, worst case, I’ll somehow buy a damn snowsuit.

Another curt nod. It’s all I need to push myself to open the door. A blast of cold slaps my cheeks. I don’t look to see if he’s staring at me when I jump down into the snow. Don’t need to. I’d have to be numb not to feel the heat of his stare against the back of my head.

“Thank you, Brody. See you Monday,” I say before shutting the door and beginning my trek through the heavy snow on the sidewalk up to the house. My first task for tomorrow is to shovel before I wind up face first into the snow.

Maybe a snowsuit is a smart idea after all.

I didn’t hearfrom Bo all night, and at half past noon on this Saturday morning, it’s still silence. For the first time in days, no good-morning message greeted me when I woke up. It was jarring, to say the least.

The only texts on my phone today came from my sister, reminding me of my flight to Ottawa for the wedding creeping up on me, and Poppy telling me how excited she is to have me back at class today.

It shouldn’t be so disappointing not to hear from him after a single day, but after our first phone call, I guess I just expected him to talk to me even more, not less. His rushed goodbye yesterday took me by surprise, but I didn’t think too much of it. Now, though? It’s all I can think about.

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