Page 71 of Buried in the Woods Below

“What is it?” he asks.

I point. “That’s Vivek. And my mother haranguing him.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know his house was right here. Or I wouldn’t have taken us.”

“No, it’s fine. I just—” My voice falters as memories crest in my mind. I turn away.

“What?”

I hesitate to bring more chaos into Eric’s life than I already have. Then it just spills out. “He assaulted me yesterday.”

His eyes pop. “When you saw him on your walk yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“That motherf—” Eric strides toward the house, his chest out. “I don’t even know this asshole, and I’ve had it with him. What this guy needs is a good old-fashioned ass-kicking.”

I grab him by the arm, feeling the firm muscle beneath his jacket. “No. It’s fine. I’ve taken care of it. He won’t do it again. And once my mom’s done with him, he really won’t do it again.”

He stares at me, face red and lungs heaving.

“I promise,” I say.

His shoulders drop and his fists loosen. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

I release my grip and pat his chest. “I’m sure.”

A gust of frigid wind sends a chill through me. Eric slips off his fleece and drapes it over my shoulders.

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” I say, though the warmth is welcome.

He tightens the jacket around me, drawing us closer. “If you won’t let me give Vivek a taste of his own medicine, at least let me do this.”

I relent and allow myself to be pulled toward him. The moonlight catches his northern-light irises, and next thing I know, I’m swept up in the moment. I close my eyes and lean in to kiss him.

I wait for his lips to meet mine, but it never comes.

I feel his grip release.

My eyes open.

He steps back like he saw a snake. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression.”

Blood rushes to my face, and my heart sinks. “No, no, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. The tequila and the moonlight. I just got a little caught up in it all. That was totally inappropriate.”

The color of Eric’s face matches mine. “No, it’s fine. You’re stunning. I just, Laelynn—”

I wave him off, my eyes lasered on the ground. “Please stop. You’re making it worse.”

He chuckles, deep and soft, easing the tension, and puts a hand on my back. “Here. Why don’t we head back to the house and pretend this never happened?”

I laugh and brush the hair out of my face. “Sounds good.” I start to take off his jacket, but he pats me on the shoulder.

“Keep it.”

We walk home in silence. The embarrassment is so thick I feel like I’m walking against a stiff breeze. It takes everything in me not to jump into the lake and swim to town. Eric handles it with his typical class, chattering about various constellations as we stroll.

When we arrive at the house, his chatter dies. Hanging on the front door is another note secured with a rusty old nail. The same lined yellow legal paper snaps in the wind. I look at Eric, whose head sags when he sees it.