Page 39 of Staying for You

“Um, kind of is, actually. Not sucking, so much, but yeah, you were going through some shit, huh?”

“It’s okay. My best friend, Gretchen, is the most honest person with me. I’m also pretty aware of myself and my abilities. My last two books were subpar. I’m here to get back what I lost.”

The two women share a look that doesn’t go unnoticed. “What?”

“Are you here to write?”

“I never stop writing. I’ll be in the grocery store and have a scene hit me out of nowhere and I have to get it down before I forget. But right now, I’m just taking it in. Reminding myself who I am and why I fell in love with writing in the first place.”

“Are you finding inspiration?” Liv asks.

“I am.” I don’t expand on that. For now, it’s for me and me alone. They’re not stupid. I’m sure they’re figuring out that in the short amount of time I’ve known Owen, he has given me inspiration in so many ways. From his thoughtfulness and the way he is with his niece and nephew, maybe my next book will be about a single dad or maybe even an uncle who takes care of his family as if they’re his own after his brother or sister is tragically killed in an accident.

Soon the wheels are turning in my head and I can’t stop my fingers from twitching, flexing and stretching them as if they’re getting ready for a big few days.

“Wow. That was crazy,” Chloe says, awe in her voice.

“What? What was crazy?”

“You just wrote a book in your head, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

The girls smile at me, then Liv lifts her glass. The three of us clink them together and Liv toasts simply, “To new beginnings.”

We all take a sip and I relax a little more.To new beginnings.How fitting in so many ways.

* * *

Owen’s familyleft three days ago. I haven’t heard or seen anything out of Owen since he left the cabin that day the girls and I polished off two bottles of wine.

The next morning, I cracked open my laptop and sat staring at a blank document, cursor blinking at me to remind me of the new beginning we toasted to the afternoon before. Only, unlike the day before, the words and ideas weren’t pouring out of me. After sitting at the table for two hours, fingers unable to type even a single letter, I slammed the lid shut and went outside to get some fresh air.

I bundled up and walked up and down the same path Owen and I took when he invited me to go for a walk with the kids. The brisk cold air may have been so brutal that my face hurt, but I was no longer putting pressure on myself to write.

When I got back to the cabin, I found a text message on my phone from Liv. The three of us had exchanged numbers before they left but if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t see myself ever using theirs. Not because I didn’t like them. Quite the opposite. They’re women I could see myself being friends with for years.

Ethan and Rex finally came down to the cabin to retrieve their wives about six o’clock that evening. Conversation flowed between us, neither of them holding back on telling me the story of their pasts, how they met Ethan and Rex. The fact that Ethan and Chloe are half-siblings but never knew the other existed until recently was a little mind blowing. And Liv had met Ethan once before they became an item. But, in her words, she was sister-zoned by Owen making sure that Ethan stayed away.

Their love stories might be somewhat unique and a little confusing, but their love was a healthy reminder of possibilities. Just because Scott and I didn’t work out, that the love we once shared wasn’t an epic sort of love story you hoped to one day tell your grandchildren, doesn’t mean it’s not out there for me, waiting for me to be ready. But the question is, will I ever be ready? I’m honestly not sure. I’d like to think I am.

I click save for the thousandth time on my document, force of habit, and stand up, stretch, and walk the few steps it takes me to get to the kitchen to refill my coffee. Just as I’m putting the creamer back in the fridge, a knock sounds at the door and my pulse spikes.

I know who it is. There’s only one option as to who it could be. The knowledge makes me both excited and nervous.

When I open the door to see him standing there, looking every bit sexy lumberjack, I have to hold back the sigh that wants to squeak out. Damn, he’s so freaking good looking.

And when he smiles, it transforms his entire face. Little lines crease next to his eyes and a really tiny dimple pops in his cheek. It’s barely there, though. Hardly noticeable unless you’re staring, which I’m doing.

I haven’t seen Scott in weeks and don’t miss him. I went three days without seeing Owen, the last time we spoke he had to apologize several times for being an ass, and I still feel like I can breathe easier just being in his presence.

This isn’t good. As he made clear, I’m temporary. He knows it. I know it. But my heart? My libido? They’re both shouting at me to climb this man like a monkey, wrap my legs around his waist, and hold on tight.

But not until he explains the crap he spewed at his place a few days ago. Or the fact that he stayed away from me for three days. Sure, I could have gone to him but I learned my lesson. I spent eight years catering to a man’s needs and desires, putting my own on the back burner.

I won’t lose myself to another person like that again. I love myself too much for that.

“I have a list,” he blurts out.

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