Page 56 of An Uphill Battle

Laughing at her reply, I agree. “Yes! Simon is so quick to hand out relationship advice, but Lord knows, I’ve never seen him serious about agirl.”

“Yeah, and Magnolia, after everything that happened with her—well, just after everything, she’s pretty determined to go italone.”

We both fall into a thoughtful silence at the mention of Magnolia’s past. I’m not sure what she’s running from, or if she even is, but it sure seems like it. Seraphine checks the time on her phone and stands from the table. “You’d better get going if you don’t wanna hit traffic. Text us and let us know when you’re there,okay?”

“Will do,” I tell her, hugging her once more before we go our separateways.

* * *

The driveto Drake’s family’s lake house takes me a little under four hours, and good Lord, that doesn’t seem long, but in my tiny little car, it feels like an eternity. Not that I’d ever freaking admit that. Drake would have a field day, what with his constant jokes about the size of it. Calls it a Matchbox car. Such anasshole.

Using the key Mr. Collins gave me, I unlock the cabin and haul my suitcase over the threshold. “Holy bologna, it’s cold in here!” I draw the hood of my jacket up and over my head to keep my ears warm as I walk further into the space. “I know he mentioned something about the fireplace...” I mutter aloud to myself, desperately trying to recall his instructions. I know I could call and ask, but I don’t want to sound helpless. Or stupid. Plus, I’m sure I’ll figure it out. I mean, how hard could it be to light afire?

Two freezing hours later, I admit my defeat. It’s really, really hard. You’d think the wood would just light, easy peasy, but nope. No dice, and it’s freezing. Like, my teeth are chattering. I know I need to head into town for some supplies. Maybe somewhere will have a space heatertoo.

With numb fingers, I drag my suitcase back to the spare bedroom. I heave it up onto the bed with every intention of digging out my beanie and a pair of gloves, but I’m sidetracked by the ringing of my phone. I glance at the screen, hoping to see Drake’s name. But it’s only MylaRose.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” I tell her in lieu of a greeting. “I forgot to let y’all know I made itsafe.”

“Ya think? We’ve all been worried. Seraphine’s even texted you a fewtimes.”

“Seriously, Myles, I’m so sorry. I got in about two hours ago, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to light the fireplace eversince.”

“Oh, no! I bet you’re freezing!” Her voice oozes sympathy—Myla Rose knows how much I hate thecold.

“I can hardly feel my fingers, and I’m pretty sure my nose could one-up Rudolph’s. I’m about to head into town to grab some food and hopefully—” A loud sound from outside shuts me up mid-sentence.

“Hopefully what?” Myla Roseasks.

“Shh! I think someone’s here.” My voice has a slight tremor toit.

“Who would be there?” Her tone reflects myworry.

“I don’t—oh my God! The door. Someone just opened the front door. I’m gonna hang up. If you don’t hear from me in five minutes, call the police,” I whisper to her before ending thecall.

With my finger hovering over theemergency dialbutton, I cautiously make my way toward the living room. As I round the corner of the hall, I can clearly make out the outline of a man crouched in front of the fireplace. I watch on in silent fear as he manages to start the fire in under twominutes.

He starts to rise from his position on the floor, and as he turns my way, I slowly back into the hall, my heart pounding in my chest. His footsteps grow louder, and I make a mad dash to the bedroom. I try to slam the door closed, but his hand blocksit.

“Jesus Christ, Little Bit! You trying to break myfingers?”

At the sound of Drake’s voice, I practically collapse onto the floor—though from shock or relief, I’m notsure.

My chest heaves as I struggle to pull in enough oxygen. Maybe I’m losing it. Maybe I’m imaging him being here. The figment of my imagination that looks like the man of my dreams lowers himself to his haunches directly in front of me and runs his fingers over mycheek.

“Azalea, calm down. Deep breaths,” he tells me, and when I struggle to comply, he pulls me into his lap and wraps himself around me. “Follow the pattern of my breathing, Bit. You gotta calm down.” He takes several deep breaths, in through his nose and out through his mouth, and by his third go, I’m starting tocalm.

I’m also starting to realize that this is real. I’m not imagining shit. Drake’s really here. With me. Holding me. “Drake?” His name comes out as aquestion.

“Yeah?” he asks, still holding meclose.

“Does this mean you forgiveme?”

“I could never stay angry with you. But we do need to talk. About a lot.” He speaks the words into my hair, and I slide my arms up and around hisneck.

“I know. We do. We really do. Thank you so much for coming here. For giving me anotherchance.”

Drake goes to reply, but the loud grumble of my stomach cuts him off. “Anything for you. You oughta know that by now.” He moves to shift me from his lap, but I cling tighter, not caring even a little how pathetic that makes me. It’s been over a month since I’ve been this close to him, and I’m in no way ready to give him up. “Slow down, girl. I just wanna stand, okay? Hold ontight.”

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