Page 32 of I'm Yours

“Hey, if you need a break, you know I’ve got this.”

“Bite your tongue. This place is my stress reliever.”

“Okay, then, is there anything I can do to help you?”

“I’ll be okay. Promise.”

“If that changes, you let me know.”

“Got it.”

I wink and blow her a kiss. “Love you. Go home.”

She gets in her car and starts it up then rolls down the window. “Oh! It’s Emmy. She’s new in town. I haven’t met her parents yet but I’m hoping I can tonight.”

I stand frozen as she drives away.

Of course Erica’s new bestie is Emmy, Reed’s daughter. It’s not like I’d forgotten she’d be starting class tonight but I’ve done my best not to think about it. Which hasn’t worked well. I fall asleep at night with the image of Reed’s dark eyes staring back at me. His tattooed arms hold me in my dreams and lift me up. One especially disturbing night, he had me pinned against a wall, whispering dirty words in my ear while grinding his hardness against my center. I woke up in a pile of sweat and it wasn’t because I was scared or nervous. I was overheated. Because even dream world Reed is hotter than I remember. Sexier. Stronger. A daddy. Holy shit. Reed’s a daddy. I haven’t even seen him with his daughter yet but my imagination is pretty great and I have a feeling that seeing him in daddy form will only make these dreams I’ve been having turn into a nightly affair.

Lindsay and I have done a very good job of avoiding all talk of Reed when she comes in for her class and considering that I have very little life outside of the studio, it hasn’t been hard to not bump into him anywhere in town. Though, being at home doesn’t make not thinking of Reed any easier.

When I get home, I pull into my driveway avoiding looking to the left as best as I can while staying safe and park in my garage. I knew buying this home would be hard but until Reed moved back, it hadn’t bothered me. In fact, I liked it because it brought me closer to Lindsay and Alan. Being next door to the lakeside home that Reed practically grew up in isn’t awful. Especially since he’s rarely here.

I throw my clothes into the laundry room and put on a pair of cut-offs and a tank that I keep in the laundry room to wear outside when I’m playing in the dirt. Then I slip my feet into my dark green Hunter boots, toss my hair into a messy bun, and grab my gardening gloves then head outside for some dirt therapy. Shoving my wireless earbuds into my ears, I lose myself in the way it feels to have my knees sink into the grass. The ground is both soft and rocky, bringing a sense of nostalgia washing over me. I smile as I tug on a weed, satisfied when the root pulls out of the ground.

It’s something Mom handed down to me. Her green thumb. She’d spend hours outside digging and planting, mud and dirt flying all over. Now I look back and it was usually because she was gearing up for a manic episode, but they’re still some of my favorite memories. She’d drag me along with her and I’d grumble as if I didn’t want to be right there with her but she knew it was all for show.

One of Mom’s boyfriends over the years built her garden boxes so she could grow vegetables, too. I think it was gardening that kept her as stable as it did without taking her medication for so many years. When I bought this house, her housewarming gift was everything to do with gardening and then she came over and helped me with the landscaping.

It doesn’t take me but a few minutes to get lost in my world. Pulling weeds and standing around my planter boxes picking the last of the tomatoes and peppers, humming along to “Drunk Over You”by Niko Moon. My hips swing side to side and I sing along to the lyrics. Right or wrong, after I lied to Reed and told him I didn’t love him, I spent a week drunk. I was only eighteen but it wasn’t hard for me to find alcohol. My life was officially sucky. My mom was a mess and my best friend was gone. Turns out, being drunk didn’t help much at all.

The only thing that helped was dancing and living in the good memories. Memories of moments where it was Reed and me against the world. Or, at least that’s how it felt. He’d pick me up and we’d simply drive. Living in Montana makes disappearing on back roads easy. Finding a clear lake to stand in and fly fish and forget life or grab our kayaks before kayaking was cool and paddle around the shoreline of the very lake I now live on. It’s a bit surreal to be here.

When I decided to buy a house, I thought there was no way I’d ever be able to afford a place on the lake. It was a pipe dream. One that’d been in the back of my mind since I moved to Lakeside. Alan was the one who managed to help me get the deal on my home. The owners weren’t worried about the money, they wanted someone local who would treasure it like their family had. And treasure it, I do. I don’t understand why their kids didn’t want the home, but when I was signing on the line, all questions disappeared. They sold me the place for quite literally millions under the market value. Alan said they were gifted the land to build a home on and they were never planning to sell it to make money. They just wanted what they put into it. The house is nothing big or fancy. The millions of dollars that it’s worth comes from the location.

The music in my ears changes to a popular country song that’s sweeping the nation, encouraging listeners to two-step and dip and turn. I don’t think there are many people who don’t sing along to “The Git Up” with a smile on their face.

I do what the song says, spinning around and bringing it down. One of the things I love about living here by the lake is that during the week, I have the area to myself for the most part. A lot of people either spend only the summers or the weekends here so I can dance and get as crazy as I want and not many people are going to see me.

I replay the song as an idea hits for our first classes tonight. The new kids are always so nervous. Excited, but nervous. It might be a ballet class but that doesn’t mean we can’t get our two-stepping on and play around to loosen up.

I smile to myself and check the time on my phone. I need to eat some lunch and shower and put away my bounty and still check on my mom today before making my way back to the studio. She changed meds not long ago and it always makes me nervous that they aren’t going to work properly.

I bend over and pick up my basket of vegetables and the hair on the back of my neck prickles. I don’t get this feeling often, but when I do, it’s always accompanied by nerves battling in my stomach. It’s like someone is watching me but when I look around, I don’t see anyone. Reaching into my pocket, I turn off the music streaming through my phone and pull out my earbuds.

I stand still, trying to take in my surroundings and catalogue everything I see and hear. Birds chirping, leaves rustling, nothing out of the ordinary. No one lurking in the woods that are settled behind my house. No one watching me from the water.

The uncomfortable feeling doesn’t go away so I hustle inside, locking my door behind me. But my imagination runs wild and I wonder if there could be someoneinthe house and that’s why I didn’t see anyone.

Groaning, I mutter, “Think, Sadie, think.” I’m sure I’m overreacting here because I think I would have noticed someone slipping into my house but I can’t stop my heart from racing or the eerie feeling in my gut that someone is staring at me.

I look around for something to use to keep me safe and notice the broom hanging on the wall. This would be a really good time to remember those self-defense classes that the owner of Eve’s made us all attend but my brain is stuck. The only thing I can think of is whopping whoever is in my home with a broom handle and I’m not sure how effective that’s going to be.

Either way, I grab the broom and hold it up like a baseball bat, ready to whack someone who’s hiding in my home.

I start walking through my kitchen, irritated that I’m leaving dirt on my clean floor and that my boots keep squeaking as I walk.

Taking a deep breath, I take another step as I hear a throat clear.

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