Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
She was shocked—that much was clear. I was amused to find that Shayne clearly left out the fact that we were going to be neighbors. But it was more than just surprise I detected. Then when she assumed I was bringing a girl to the cabin, there was an edge to her voice. I know better than to call it jealousy, but if there’s something between jealousy and cool ambivalence, that was it. She can pretend to hate me all she wants, but it was there.
After what seems like hours of twists and turns through the mountains, we finally pull into the long, snow-covered driveway. Valen’s the first one out of the car before we even come to a complete stop.
“You good?” I ask, amused, as I step out of the driver’s seat and into the snow. Snow that almost reaches Valen’s knees. She has one hand pressed to her stomach and a scowl on her face. “You’re looking a little green there.”
“Yeah, thanks to you. You took those turns like a NASCAR driver.”
“Thank you.”
She shoots me a glare. “It wasn’t a compliment.”
I suck in a lungful of air, inhaling fresh pine trees and winter, a welcome reprieve from the scent of Creamsicles. I watch Valen for a reaction as she looks up at the house, snowflakes collecting on her dark hair. The log cabin is nestled between tall pine trees with a thick layer of snow lining the roof and floor-to-ceiling windows. Somehow, it looks smaller than I remember.
“So pretty,” Shayne says, rounding the car. “I’ve never actually been here. The pictures don’t do it justice.”
“Like something out of a Christmas movie,” Valen agrees.
“The key should be in the lockbox next to the door,” Thayer says, pulling some of the bags out of the back of my car. Shayne and Valen follow his lead, grabbing their backpacks. I tilt my head to the side, admiring the way Valen’s ass looks as she walks toward the house in her skintight black leggings when a snowball hits me in the back of the head.
“I thought you and this girl weren’t even friends,” Ryan says knowingly, coming up behind me, using my words from when he questioned me about Valen the day she moved in. I told him she was my stepsister’s best friend, conveniently leaving out the part about almost hooking up with her.
“We’re not.”
“Then why did you look at me like you wanted my head on a fucking stick when I asked if she wanted to ride with me?” When I don’t have a response for that, he laughs, clapping my shoulder. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, Ames. I won’t go after your girl.”
I might have promised to be on my best behavior, but the thing about promises? They’re meant to be broken.
Valen
“Are you sure you don’t want to room with me?” Shayne asks for the third time.
“Yes, please, ditch your boyfriend and spend your romantic cabin getaway with me instead,” I deadpan.
“It’s not a romantic getaway,” she argues. “It’s more like…a family vacation.”
The place has a rustic feel, all wood floors, exposed wooden beams in the high ceilings, and a stone fireplace. It’s cozy, but the open floor plan makes it seem spacious at the same time. A narrow, wrought iron spiral staircase leads to a second floor with a long hallway and four doors. Probably bedrooms and not much else by the looks of it.
“You can have the big room,” Thayer says, picking up Shayne’s suitcase by the handle. I catch a glimpse of a smirk before he turns for the staircase.
“Why is he making that face? Is it haunted?”
Shayne laughs. “I have no idea. I told you I’ve never been here.”
“It’s Holden’s room,” Thayer throws over his shoulder. When he sees my hell no expression, he clarifies, “He’ll room with Ryan. They have bunkbeds.”
Annnd there it is.
Both Shayne and I laugh, following him upstairs. When he shows us where Holden’s sleeping, we laugh even more. The room itself is barely bigger than a shoebox, and the wooden bunkbed, complete with a log ladder, takes up the majority of the space. I cannot imagine Holden even fitting in that thing.
“Here’s your room,” he says when we get to the room at the far right side of the hall. “Bathroom’s the door on the other side of Holden’s and we’re down there.” He points to the left side of the hall.
Thankfully, this room has a queen bed (also made out of logs. Shocker.) and a little more space than the other room. I’m surprised at how clean everything looks since I was under the impression that they haven’t been up here in a long time, but I’d guess they pay someone to maintain it throughout the year.
“How is this Holden’s room? Isn’t he the youngest?” I may be an only child, but even I know the rules of the sibling hierarchy. The oldest gets the bigger room.