Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Fourteen
Ellie
I’ve done the best I can with what was in the fridge and cupboards. I don’t know exactly what Zach was planning to eat tonight, but I’m guessing it involved baked beans given the eight cans on the windowsill.
Luckily, he had some kind of welcome box of provisions that hadn’t even been opened, and I’ve managed to put together toad in the hole with cabbage, mash potato, and gravy. A favorite of mine I haven’t made for years, since Shane hated it.
I assume Zach will emerge from his bedroom at some point, but dinner will be ready at eight—any minute now. Surely he won’t work past then. There’s a small table in the kitchen just big enough for two. Just. I’ve set it with placemats and cutlery. Dinner has got a few minutes and I’ve washed everything up—by hand, since there’s no dishwasher.
I lean against the kitchen counter. How can I make this better? Mustard, obviously, but I don’t have any. I’ve emptied every cupboard, trying to discover a hidden jar, but there isn’t one. My gaze catches on an empty cup on the windowsill with the word Rum printed in blue, cursive font. I glance out the window. There’s not much growing outside the cottage. It’s a pretty unforgiving landscape. But there is plenty of heather. I grab my trainers from the mat and shove them on. I’ll need to be quick because the timer is about to go off on the oven.
I don’t bother with a coat, and as soon as I step outside, I regret it. It’s the kind of biting cold that only happens every couple of years down south, plus it’s eerily dark. The lights of the cottage coming through the windows is the only way I can see, and I can’t make out anything in the distance at all. I pull the door nearly all the way closed to keep the cold air out without locking myself outside in the process. The cottage is amazingly well insulated. The fact that I’ve been cooking and the fire is burning helps. There’s a bush of heather in bloom right by the front door. I bend, taking in the reddish-purple flowers. They look much more vibrant the more I focus on them. I pick a few stalks, and as I stand, a gust of wind nearly blows me off my feet. I grab the doorknob to keep my balance and inadvertently pull it shut.
Shit.
I try and open it but the catch is on.
If Zach didn’t think I was a complete disaster before, he will do now.
I’m starting to become aware of the joints in my fingers and my teeth start to chatter. I’m going to have to knock on that door. I lift the door knocker and wait. But there’s no answer. I lift it again and it clunks on the rest just as the door is tugged open.
Zach scowls at me. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry,” I reply. “The door blew closed.” I sneak past him and go and stand in front of the fire, clutching the stalks of heather. They definitely weren’t worth it, but I’m not letting them go now.
“You okay?” he asks. “You should wear a coat if you’re going outside.”
A curl of dread rises in me. Shane never let me forget a mistake.
I nod, bracing myself for the impending shaming bound to come next.
But Zach doesn’t say anything, just heads back into the bedroom.
I let out a breath and try and figure out what just happened. He was right, I really should be wearing a coat if I’m going outside—except, I only expected to be out a few seconds and I hadn’t realized it was going to be so cold. Maybe he’ll bring it up again later.
I realize I should have mentioned that dinner’s ready. “I’ve made dinner,” I call out. “It’s ready when you are.”
Zach’s head appears from around the door.
“You have?” His hand goes to his stomach again and I very definitely do not let my eyes follow. I saw enough earlier to know he’s got washboard abs.
“Toad in the hole.”
He nods. “Okay. I’ll be right there.” No mention of me locking myself out in the freezing cold. Almost like he’s already forgotten.
The buzzer on the oven sounds and I head back into the kitchen and set about dishing up what I’ve prepared. I put the plates on the table, put the water in the cup and shove the heather in just as Zach appears in the kitchen.
“You’ve set the table.”
“Yes, would you prefer to take your plate and carry on working?”
He hesitates, thinking about it. “No, this is fine.”
I realize I’m about to have dinner with a virtual stranger. A handsome virtual stranger. Another day, different circumstances, and this could be a date.
It has been a very long time since I’ve had a date—if dating in your teens even counts. More like a trip to the cinema, a sloppy over-enthusiastic kiss, and awkward conversation—at least that’s all I can remember pre-Shane.