Page 13 of Make You Stay

Typical Enid.

But she’s wrong. No matter how beautiful Chloe Strickland is or how much I’d love to explore every inch of her curves with my tongue, she’s off-limits.

End of story.

Chapter 4

Chloe

Things are looking up.

First, I found an organic market in Asheville and blew way too much cash on all varieties of edible goodies. Let’s be honest—wine and chocolate make everything better.

Second, I now know my way around Betsey’s wood stove, so my ass is comfy and cozy.

Third… Aidan. He’s not my usual type, yet there’s something so endearing about him. He’s witty, expressive, and good-looking in an offbeat, woodsman sense.

Okay, so the beard still irks me, but it’shisface, right? Although, I do wonder what he looks like under all that fur. Maybe he needs the beard to cover a receding chin or weak jaw.

Or maybe he’s so beautiful under that beard that I’d melt the second I saw him.

Much safer with the beard.

Mostly, bearded or not, it’s nice to know I’ll see a smile instead of a scowl with my next-door neighbor, or should I say, temporary neighbor. Once the work is completed on the house, she goes on the market, and I return to my regularly scheduled life.

But that is likely several weeks away, so I choose to focus on the beauty of the North Carolina mountains.

Wrapping a quilt around my shoulders, I step out onto the front porch, breathing in the crisp air.

“They make coats for this type of weather, you know.”

Swinging my head to the right, I catch Aidan’s teasing glance, his white smile cutting through his beard. “I prefer being a trendsetter, so I opted for a blanket. It’s what us Yankees do, you know.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” he volleys back.

He really has a lovely smile.

“Chloe, what size shoe do you wear?” Natalie asks, a pair of ice skates slung over her shoulder.

“Six. Why?”

“Perfect. Emily has an extra pair of skates that will fit you.”

Say what now?

“What am I doing?” I ask, taking a tentative step off the porch.

“Dad is taking us ice skating, and Mom and Jeff are meeting us at the rink. You have to come. It’s tradition.”

“Nat, she doesn’t have to come,” Aidan says, shooting me a smile. “Although you’re welcome to join us.”

“I’ve skated at Rockefeller Center.”

“Perfect. Emily, grab your extra pair. Chloe, go get dressed.” Just like that, a sixteen-year-old takes charge of the situation, hustling me into my house to change into proper attire.

Guess I have a new set of plans for the day. Here I thought I’d spend the hours looking at photos and binging Netflix.

Should I mention now that although Ihaveskated before, I’m not very good? As in terrible?

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