“Odd one out?” he says with a tone of annoyance, remembering my accounts of how nice all the other students are.
“I know you can’t see it that way, but if you’re young and don’t have perfect teeth and hair with a body to match, you have to fend for yourself socially. Even the nerds ignore me because I like…” I trail off.
But Wes is only more interested.
“Because you like what? Guns, hunting?” he asks, grinning.
“No,” I chuckle. “Nothing like that. I just like… to read,” I confess.
“Everybody reads,” he observes, giving me a sideways glance with a raised brow.
“Romance stories, if you must know. The kind where everything’s perfect in the end and the girl always gets her man,” I tell him, blushing again.
“Like happily ever after?” he asks, sounding interested. “Nothing wrong with that. If more people wanted happiness, they might even find it.”
We drive in silence for a while and I’m glad we’re out of the town, glad we’re away from the college.
I haven’t seen a tree without somebody sitting under it or grass without someone mowing it for years.
On campus, there are always people. Always somebody in the landscape.
It feels… normal. Natural to see things how they really are without people around.
“Almost there,” Wes drawls, a look of satisfaction spreading across his face once we reach a crest and start heading up a steep private road.
I can’t hide my amazement once the house comes into view.
“Oh. My. God.”
Chapter Twenty
Wesley
“Wes?” she whines, her head shaking in disbelief.
“You said a house in the hills, not a mansion… Where are we, another fancy hotel?”
“This is it,” I smile. “Home sweet home.”
At least, I hope it will be for a while.
“That view!” she shrieks. “And the ducks!”
Before I can put the car into park, she’s out the door and racing towards the house.
I think she likes it.
I feel myself smiling wider as I get out, watching her from behind as she gets to the edge of the peak of our hill.
The view is amazing this time of year, the town below looking like a toy. The vastness of the horizon and sea beyond, the spray of autumnal colors in between.
There’s a chilly wind blowing, and a dark mass of clouds is spilling like ink across the sky.
Moving up behind her, I take her waist in one arm and feel her bury herself in close, shielding herself from the wind.
“I love it,” she tells me, answering my next question. Giving me the only reason I’ve ever needed for keeping the place.
“I almost got rid of it once,” I tell her, and her eyes dart to mine.
“Why?”
“You’ll see, c’mon,” I tell her, practically having to drag her towards the place.
“It’s huge,” she marvels as we get closer, the blue-gray stone from the hill itself used to make the place.
A wall of windows, from the decking to where the pitched slate roof starts shows us the interior before we reach the door.
Thick, heavy wooden beams mirror the golden colors of the season, the dark slate floors meeting the stonework inside, giving the impression of a high-end cabin in the woods feel.
“That’s exactly why I almost got rid of it,” I murmur. “Alone in a place built for at least a half a dozen? It gets lonely,” I tell her. “Plus it’s a pain in the ass to keep clean,” I add.
“Looks perfect,” she says, looking around once I let us in.
“Hired help does all that,” I recount, and she punches me gently in the arm.
“I thought this was supposed to be fun, why the long face coming up here?” she asks, and I have to admit it must be out of habit.
“I originally thought the place would be filled with gymnasts and athletes from all over,” I recall.
She looks at her feet, apologizing.
“That’s ancient history though,” I remind us both. “Let’s get inside, we can worry about the luggage later.”
I gravitate towards the kitchen, remembering I didn’t stop for groceries as Katelyn finds the main living areas, gasping as she moves from room to room.
It’s not an empty place, just because it’s not full of people.
There’s heavy wood and leather furniture, an entertainment area, a bar I’ll never use.
There’s even a hot tub out back by the swimming pool. I knew there was one somewhere.
Scanning the fridge, I sigh with relief, someone had the foresight to order groceries for the long weekend. Should be plenty of everything for the next day or two.
I flick on a few lights, noticing how dark it’s getting so early. That weather outside has started to rumble, bringing heavy drops of rain onto the windows.
The golden browns and reds of the maple and ash trees outside start to lean heavily to one side.
“Looks like we got up here just in time, storm coming in by the looks,” Katelyn says, the excitement still in her voice.