“Well, today is just full of surprises, isn’t it?”

The joy Moose had brought evaporated in an instant, and I frowned, watching as River shook the snow from his boots next before dropping them by the fireplace. He peeled off his hat and gloves, and then it was just him in a pair of dark jeans, a beige, thermal, long-sleeve shirt, and two mismatched socks with holes in the toes.

Nothing had changed, and yet everything had.

River was older than when I’d left, that much was obvious, but now that we were inside and in the warm light of his cabin, I could see it. I could see the lines of his face that weren’t there before, the creases of his eyes, the strong line between his brows. I could see the bit of gray dotting his stubble prematurely, something his father had, too, when he was younger. His hair used to be so long it’d curl around the edge of his baseball cap, but now, it was just a fade, cut short and simple. His arms were bigger, his chest, too — the lean frame from the days he’d played ball replaced by a body I barely recognized. It seemed everything about him was more sculpted and manly, such a contrast from the boy who’d stood in my rearview mirror and watched me drive away.

And while I stood there and studied my ex, he didn’t so much as give me a second glance before he was headed for the kitchen.

I watched his head disappear inside the old yellow refrigerator long enough to pull out a can of Budweiser, and then he cracked it and drank half in one gulp.

At least some things never change.

Moose was still circling around my feet with a wagging tail as I stripped off my own coat and hung it next to River’s on the rack, finally taking in the scene of the small cabin.

It was essentially one large room, the only door one in the back corner that I assumed hid a bathroom. Everything else existed in a sort of chaotic harmony inside the shared space — a tiny kitchen with appliances older than we were, a small folding table cracked at the edges with three mismatched metal chairs around it, a queen-size bed in the corner with navy sheets, two worn pillows, and a simple quilt on top of it. There was a large leather couch that I thought I recognized as the same one his dad used to have in the den, and three shelves of books lining the wall by the fireplace.

It smelled a little like cinnamon, a little like firewood, and a little like whiskey — all wrapped in one.

There seemed to be little projects scattered everywhere else — a half-built something or other in the center of the room, with saw dust and tools littered around it, a half-finished puzzle on the folding table next to a deck of cards splayed out in a half-finished game of solitaire. A book was spread open, face down, the coffee table in front of the couch serving as a bookmark — and it looked halfway finished, too.

So many things started, not a single one completed.

Again, I found myself thinking how some things never change.

I cleared my throat as I unwrapped my scarf, hanging it over my coat. “Well, I would say thank you for helping me, but since you really didn’t help as much as you forced me against my will into your house…”

“I saved you from hypothermia,” he grunted back. “So yeah, you’re welcome.”

I rolled my eyes.

The sooner I get out of here, the better.

“I would have just called Daddy, if there was any damn cell service on this road,” I said, pulling my phone from my back pocket and sliding my thumb over the screen to unlock it. “If you just give me your WiFi password, I can text him and be on my way.”

“I don’t have one.”

I peeled my eyes away from my phone screen where I’d been ready to connect after verifying that, as suspected, I had zero bars of service. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Sparrow,” he said, leaning a hip against the kitchen counter and taking a sip of his beer. I used to adore that little nickname, but it only made me glare at him now. “No WiFi.”

“What do you mean, no WiFi?”

“I mean, I don’t have it.”

I blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t have it,” he said again, slower this time, punctuating each word. “Never have. I don’t have a need for it.”

“You don’t have a need to be connected to the world?” I asked, but then I shook my head, holding up a hand to stop him before he could come up with some smartass remark. “Whatever. Just let me use your house phone, then.”

“Don’t have one of those, either.”

Tags: Kandi Steiner Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net