“Didn’t your assistant say she was booking the whole place out?” Kenzie asked. She stifled a yawn, then stretched her arms up high. She still had on her comfy clothes from the flight—a tight-fitting athletic shirt and dark blue yoga pants that made no secret of her amazing ass and legs.
“She did.” I had my suitcase in one hand and Kenzie’s in the other, and I set them down while I tried to decide what to do. The cabin was gorgeous, as advertised. It was a modern log cabin with just enough rustic charm to feel like it belonged in the mountains, but it also had modern architectural touches throughout. I’d considered buying something like it before I settled on my place in North Carolina, but ultimately decided against it.
“It looks… kind of, well, not empty.”
I sighed and walked back toward the car, popping the trunk and tossing our things inside.
“What are you doing?” Kenzie asked.
“Nilla fucked this up,” I said simply. “I’m going to get us a plane back tonight.”
“There may still be a room,” Kenzie said. “We didn’t fly across the country to give up without even walking in the place.”
“I don’t want to be stuck in a house with a bunch of people I don’t know. Even if there is a room—”
Kenzie worked her lips to the side, folding her arms. “Well, you can’t make me leave,” she said. “Hand me my bag. Please,” she added when I didn’t immediately move to comply.
“You can’t be serious. You don’t know those people. They could be perverts. Creeps.”
“Oh,” she said, eyebrows shooting up. “More perverted than the guy who asked me to have a quickie like two minutes after we met the first time? Or creepier than the guy who has a cat named Mr. Meatball that opens doors and prefers sparkling water?”
“You’re not staying,” I said, closing the trunk. “Come on.”
I was walking to get in when I heard the trunk open. I jerked my head around in time to see Kenzie with her suitcase in a death grip. She was actually jogging up the slight hill toward the cabin.
I was about to call after her when her toe caught a tree root and she fell forward, bouncing against her suitcase hard enough that it split at the zipper. Her belongings sprayed out of the suitcase like blood from a gunshot wound.
I very seriously considered just leaving. I could get in the car, fly home, and leave Kenzie along with all the problems she caused. It’d be closing a confusing, frustrating, and highly distracting chapter of my life.
Except I couldn’t. I’d actually written on the plane. Actual words that I hadn’t felt immediately compelled to delete. I wasn’t about to admit it, even to myself, but there was something else pulling me to stay. Something stronger.
Kenzie was on her hands and knees trying to scoop up her things when I walked over to help. I picked up a pink, lacy thong, and held it up for her. “Interesting choice for a writer’s retreat with just the two of us,” I noted.
Kenzie snatched the underwear from me and stuffed it in her bag. “Get over yourself. Some of us don’t have unlimited underwear budgets. That one was just in the rotation.”
Our presence had drawn the attention of the people in the cabin. A pair of people headed down from the patio to see if we needed help.
One newcomer was a tall, thin guy with a punchable face. He had that hairstyle that looked like a handful of scraggly, curly noodles atop his head with shaved sides. The woman was almost as short as Kenzie with bright pink hair and oversized glasses. She looked young—maybe only twenty.
“Oh my God,” the woman said. “Sebastian St. James? Holy shit.” Instead of waiting for a response, she pulled out a phone and her fingers started moving in a blur. She lifted the phone, snapped a picture of herself with me in the background, and typed some more.
“You okay?” The guy asked Kenzie, ignoring me. “I’m Reggie,” he said. He plastered a smile I didn’t like the look of on his face as he knelt too close to Kenzie and reached to take a half-used tube of toothpaste from her hand. He looked down at it. “Extra whitening, huh? Looks like it’s working. You have a beautiful smile.”
“Alright,” I said, standing abruptly and picking up Kenzie’s suitcase. “We were just leaving. My assistant made a mistake. Nobody else was supposed to be here.”
I put my hand on Kenzie’s back, trying to lead her to the car with me, but she planted her feet. I briefly considered tossing her over my shoulder and carrying her, but I sighed instead and set her bag down.
“Is there still an open room?” I asked.
“You could share mine,” Reggie said, once again looking straight past me to Kenzie. Clearly, the offer didn’t stand for both of us. Although I already felt pretty sure I’d murder Reggie in his sleep if I had to share a room with his spaghetti-headed ass.