Page 79 of Playful Kris

That’s odd.

Isn’t that odd?

“Good morning,” I say, my voice still full of sleep.

“Morning.” He turns back to his bag, yanking on the zipper to get it to close fully. “We should get on the road shortly, I want to get home at a decent hour. I need to get back to my dog.”

“You have a dog?” I’m frowning again. He’s never mentioned that.

I stare at him a little longer as he picks his bag up, carrying it toward the door.

“Yeah.” That’s all he says.

He’s being unusually short with me, and it’s making me uncomfortable? Is that the word I’m looking for?

Self-conscious? Did I do something?

My brain runs in reverse, thinking of last night. The way we left the wedding together, the way he treated me all night, how we fell asleep in each other’s arms. But now, that version of Kris is long gone.

And in his place is the same guy from years ago when we went our separate ways in college.

“Are you going to get ready? I really do need to get on the road soon.”

My attention snaps to him, he’s staring at me with his hands on his hips.

“Sorry,” I murmur, climbing out of bed.

Kris disappears downstairs while I begin getting ready. I take a quick shower before bagging all of my things up. Everything was folded neatly on the way here, but now it’s all shoved in my suitcase and I can barely get it shut.

“Hey, Kris!” I call, hoping he’ll be able to help me get it shut.

He steps into the room, but he doesn’t say anything. One knee comes down on top of the suitcase and he takes the zipper from me and pulls it around, securing everything inside.

“Is that it?” he asks, avoiding eye contact with me as he glances around the room.

“I think so.” I walk over to the bed, pull the covers off and leave them all wadded on the floor.

Grabbing my phone, and backpack, I sling it over my shoulder before following Kris downstairs.

The air is cooler today than it has been, which isn’t unusual this time of year in Tennessee, but it does have a different feel today. Like a cold that cuts to the bone.

I can’t figure out if it’s the actual weather making me feel this way, or if it’s the man standing beside me.

Kris locks the keys into the lockbox hanging on the doorknob before grabbing my suitcase and his bag and heading for his truck. I frown, watching him the entire way to the truck.

He tosses our bags in easily, his eyes only connecting with mine briefly before he pulls his truck door open and climbs in.

Now I’m standing in front of his truck like an idiot, unsure of what the hell is happening this morning.

It’s literally night and day compared to the man I’ve spent the last few days with.

I walk around the truck, climbing into the passenger seat, and stare at the side of Kris’ head. He avoids my gaze, and puts the truck in reverse.

As we pull away from the cabin, I can’t help but feel like it’s a goodbye to much more than Gatlinburg today.

We’re over halfway into the trip home when we finally stop to grab something to eat and use the bathroom. Neither of us have spoken a word the entire drive, and the tension is much worse than when we left this morning.

I’m agitated, I’m cranky from being stuck in a stuffy truck with him, and I’m sleepy.

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