Page 6 of Return Policy

“Yeah?”

“Yep. Certified problem solver,” I say, waving a hand at my body.

“Well, how about you tell me why you’re out here doodling instead of hanging out with your friends or…boyfriend?” He says the last part like a question, and the knife twists painfully in my chest.

“No boyfriend here, single as a Pringle,” I mumble. Chloe and Leah said that phrase so many times, but it sounds lame as fuck coming out of my mouth. “And, uh, I’m avoiding someone,” I admit.

“Interesting.” He narrows his eyes and takes a few long strides toward me. “May I?” he asks, gesturing toward the rock, and I scoot over, allowing him to sit next to me. His shoulder is centimeters away from mine, radiating enough heat to melt titanium. I breathe in through my nose, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne floods my senses, wreaking havoc on my insides.

“Are you wearing Versace?” I ask to fill the silence.

“Were you watching through my bathroom window as I got ready tonight?”

“No… I just happen to like that scent.” I don’t admit to smelling the men’s cologne samples at the mall and assigning them to my favorite book boyfriends. In case anyone is wondering, Nathan Hawkins smells like Giorgio Armani Acqua di Giò.

“Good to know…” He smirks, looking out at the stream. “You come here often?”

A laugh bubbles out of me. “That’sthe best line you could come up with?”

“I’m not hittin’ on you,” he says cooly, and I fight the disappointment begging to appear on my face.Why the hell would I be disappointed?“I meant do you come to this rock a lot, or did you just discover this little hideaway?”

“I come here when I need to clear my head… or escape reality for a bit.”

“And is it clear now?”

“Well, this annoying stranger kind of interrupted my self-reflection, so I’ll have to get back to you on that.” A snarky smile spreads across my face.

“Ha ha.” He wrinkles his nose at me, and I struggle not to blush at how cute he looks. “Well, Ihavebeen told I’m an excellent listener as well, so… you know… if you wanna talk about it?”

He shifts position, and his shoulder bumps mine. Given how he looks, I assumed if he touched me, I’d spontaneously combust or be struck by a bolt of lightning, but the only thing happening is my heart rate accelerating faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

“Trust me, you don’t want to go down that rabbit hole,” I reply. “It’s taken my therapist years to unpack the baggage that is Sophia’s life.”

“How about the condensed version?” he asks, without even a hint of judgment in his voice.

“I’m going to scare you right off this rock,” I say, connecting my gaze with his.

“Is that something you’d care about?”

“What?”

“If I left,” he asks with a straight face, although there’s a slight upward curve of his plump lips.

“Maybe,” I say honestly. Although I can’t pinpoint why. I don't get attached to people anymore. In fact, I usually push people away so hard they go running for the hills. I especially don’t confide in total strangers. My therapist says it’s because I have abandonment issues. But what does she know?

“Well, I promise to not go running for the hills,” he says as if reading my damn mind.Who the hell is this guy?“If you promise you’re not a serial killer.”

“I amnota serial killer.”

“I figured.” His eyes drop to my feet, then venture slowly back to my face, and damn if it doesn’t set me on fire. “What are the chances of there being two of us out here?”

The fire’s doused momentarily before I realize he’s kidding, of course, and I hit him playfully on the arm. “Hey, don’t ruin this spot for me with your Ted Bundy talk.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He laughs, throwing his hands up, expression softening. “So what's clouding that pretty little head of yours, Sunflower?”

I pick at my nails, contemplating how much I want to share. I guess it couldn’t hurt to tell some partial truths to someone I’ll never see again. “My older sister, Chloe, died when I was nine.” He sucks in a breath, and I shake my head and sigh. Trees rustling in the wind and muffled laughter from partygoers in the distance fill the momentary pause in conversation. “She was in a car accident with her best friend Leah… but Leah survived. They were only eighteen.”

“Wow.” His eyes are soft as he reaches up, wiping away a tear from my cheek. “I’m so sorry that happened.”

---