Page 46 of Fire Island
“Sure.”
Her brows drop as she glimpses the butterflies once more.
“Should I leave you with your friends, then?” I nod to the bush bustling with the small yellow insects.
She shakes her head, rolling her lips together.
“Alright, Eve. Tell me about this accident you were in.”
It’s the Spanish Inquisition, I’m aware. I’m also aware I’m an asshole right now. But every single person in my life is walking on eggshells around me, holding a wealth of information aboutmy lifefrom me. It’s as good as lying, if you ask me. Which nobody has...
“My accident?” she asks, the trill in her voice making it evident she wasn’t expecting to have to talk about it. By the way her voice skipped an octave, maybe she should.
“The reason you ended up banged up and at Iris’s house, now here. To do what? Recover? Help out? How did you end up on this island, Eve?”
She hugs her arms around her body as her gaze hits the ground.
Fuck. Too far.
I should stop.
I should let her process her own things on her own time. It’s most likely nothing to do with me. By the way she glared at the shattered glass in the lantern room, I’m guessing car accident?
But then, her things are in my house. Was she in the boat I found?
I’m clutching at straws here.
And it’s winding me up like a spinning top, ever-revolving, never-ending, but set to topple over at any second its foundation isn’t perfect.
“It was a car accident. And I’d prefer to leave it in the past where it belongs, if you don’t mind.”
She stalks past me, her shoulder brushing mine. I don’t miss the silver lining her eyes as she gets the hell away from me as fast as she can. The greenhouse door slides shut, and I hang my head.
“Fuck me.”
Was I really willing to destroy someone else’s peace just to find mine? I need to apologize. Christ, that was uncalled for.
I trudge my way to the shack. Looking through the door, I find it empty. I head for the house. Inside, I find my living room empty. I take the stairs two at a time, only to find my room and bathroom also empty.
Would she go to the top?
Surely not.
I climb the twisting stairs and step into the lantern room. She leans on the wall of the round room, wiping furiously at the tears streaking down her face. The louvers shine in the morning sun. The brilliant chamber is a stark contrast to the storm clouds lining her beautiful brown eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Callum.” She doesn’t look at me.
I lean on the doorframe.
“Sorry, that was too much. You don’t owe me anything. If you want to put your things in my house, go ahead. I got my wires crossed. Thinking we...”
Now she turns and stares at me. “You thought what?”
I study the tight look on her face and decide better of it. “Nothing, I thought nothing.”
I roll off the frame and pad back down the stairs.
So the woman put her things in my house. She doesn’t have a bathroom. She’s comfortable here, that is all this is.
