Page 8 of Love Fast

I don’t bother to ask him the price—it’s my only option and I’ll just have to hope it doesn’t drain all of my savings. I glance at my engagement ring. It’s such a pretty ring. I picked it out myself. Frank wanted me to have the exact one I wanted, so we went ring shopping together after the engagement. I hadn’t given any thought to engagement rings, and I picked it out because it reminded me of the kind of flower six-year-old me would have drawn. Small sapphire petals surround a large central diamond. It’s pretty, but now it feels heavy on my finger. Like I shouldn’t be wearing it.

I slip it off and slide it onto the bar. I’ll have to give it back to Frank. I guess I could mail it. I push thoughts of tomorrow away. I will know what to do after a night’s sleep.

“I’m Rosey, by the way,” I say to the stranger. I really hope he isn’t a serial killer.

He nods. “Byron.”

“Good to meet you, Byron.” I want to ask him if he’s named after the poet. Whether his parents were romantic and whether he reads poetry. All of a sudden I have a thousand questions, but from the look on his face, questions are the last thing this man wants.

I don’t ask him if I can have the key right away, even though that’s exactly what I want to do. I want to go now. Get out of this dress. When I first put the hoodie on, I could pretend people weren’t going to necessarily think that I was wearing a wedding dress—I tricked myself into believing that people would just think I was wearing a white skirt with a hoodie. But since the zipper broke when it caught on the arm of the airplane seat, there’s no doubt I’m wearing a full-fledged wedding gown.

The problem is, I don’t have anything else but this dress to put on. I don’t know why, but somehow, the idea of taking it off tonight and having to put it back on in the morning feels worse than just sleeping in it.

“You want to go now?” he asks, staring ahead at the multicolored bottles behind the bar.

“Whenever you’re ready,” I reply. This guy has done me a huge favor. I don’t want to rush him, but let’s get the hell going already. He hasn’t finished his beer, and he probably came to relax. Let off some steam. He looks stressed. Or maybe not stressed as much as irritated. That can’t be just down to me. When I first walked in, he wore the same expression, way before he knew I was going to be bothering him for a room for the night.

He slides his beer across the bar, stands, and pulls out his wallet. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, you don’t need to—I mean, I can walk. I just need a key.” I hope this guy doesn’t think he’s getting lucky tonight. He’s hot and everything, but like, I was supposed to marry someone today. One is enough.

“Key’s in my cabin. I’ll give you a ride.” He holds out his jacket. “Put this on. It’s freezing.”

“I’m fine?—”

“Put the jacket on. It’s cold outside.”

I tighten my jaw at his command. I didn’t escape Oregon just to be ordered about in Star Falls. But once again, I can’t say no. I need a bed for the night and this guy’s cabin is my only option. I figure I’ll put his jacket on and just be grateful he hasn’t asked about what I’m wearing. If he’s going to murder me, my DNA will be on his clothes. And enough people have seen us leave together that even if I’m dead, at least this guy will go to jail.

I slip on the navy jacket, cuffs falling past my fingers. It feels like a huge blanket. I didn’t realize how cold I’d been until now. I look up at Byron, his hands thrust into the pockets of his dark blue jeans, his eyes narrowed like he’s trying to figure something out. He glances around the bar, and I follow his eyeline. There’s a ripple of heads lifting, checking out what’s going on.

He sighs. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “This town never changes. It’s addicted to gossip. Let’s go.”

He sounds pissed off. At the town? Me? His evening being interrupted? Probably all of the above.

Nothing I can do about his mood. Hopefully it means he won’t quiz me about what I’m doing in town, how long I’ll stay or where I’ve come from. I don’t have any answers at the moment. I certainly don’t want to think about Oregon. Every minute that ticks by makes it more and more impossible to go back. I left wanting to escape a wedding, but the more I think about it, I’ve escaped more than just being Frank’s wife. I escaped my entire life.

And I’m not sure I want to go back.

If I’m honest, I haven’t liked my life in Oregon for a long time. I don’t like the person I was there, either. I want to be someone else, with different circumstances and a different future. I just need to figure out whether that future can start in Star Falls, or whether I’m just as far as ever from a life I actually want.

FOUR

Byron

Rosey needs a place to stay and I’m probably the only person in town who can provide it. That’s my fault, since I’ve rented out every available place in Star Falls. Giving her the cabin next to mine for a couple of nights is the least I can do. The only thing that makes letting Rosey stay palatable is that she’s not from around here. If I take a shower at four in the morning, the patrons of Grizzly’s won’t be talking about it the next day because she doesn’t know anyone.

By all accounts, Rosey’s only going to be here for a couple of days. The wedding dress is a clue she’s not looking to stay. She’s looking for escape.

I know the feeling.

I put some cash on the bar to cover both our drinks.

Rosey stands in my jacket, which completely drowns her, and tries to get the attention of the bartender. She offers me a smile. “I only have my phone to pay, so I just need to?—”

“I’ve got it covered,” I say, nodding to the cash I’ve laid out on the bar.

Her eyes go wide. “No, you can’t. I mean?—”

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