Page 9 of Buried in the Woods Below

“I’m here all night.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Okaaay. So, what will you do now?” He grabs a rag and wipes down the bar as he listens, his rippled forearms flexing, always in efficient motion, master of his space.

I take another sip of tequila. The knot in my chest loosens. “Ugh, I don’t know. Binge-watch Netflix? Take up knitting? I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’ve been working so much I don’t even have any hobbies right now.”

He points to the worn mahogany bar. “This is a hobby.”

“I meant healthy hobbies.”

“You could travel?”

“Yeah, funny you mention that. A family friend offered to host me at their lake house in Minnesota for the rest of the summer, but I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure? Sounds like a nice vacation to me.”

“I know, but it’s complicated. I haven’t been back to Minnesota for eighteen years, and my time there was…difficult.”

“Why?”

I take another long drink of tequila until the glass is empty, hoping to drown the memory. “Long story short, I wasn’t the coolest kid growing up, and my dad had issues. Olivia, their daughter, was basically my only friend. But then she had a terrible accident, and shortly after, my family moved to Boston. She visited me, but it wasn’t the same; then she sort of disappeared from my life.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes.”

“I just feel like the whole thing’s going to be awkward.”

He pours me another tequila and rubs his thumb and index finger along his collarbone, revealing a little more of his mystery tattoo.

I point to it. “I’ve always meant to ask you—what’s that tattoo? You’re always touching it.”

His face reddens. “You promise you won’t give me shit?”

“I swear.”

He pulls the T-shirt down, revealing a smooth, muscled chest with a woman’s face inked onto it. “It’s my mom. She passed when I was sixteen, and because I was a dumbass sixteen-year-old, I thought the best thing to do to remember her was slap her face on my chest.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“Fuck off, and stop trying to turn the conversation back to me. Let’s talk about you. You’re being offered a free stay at a lake house for a month and you’re turning it down? The sun, the water, a little tequila—I’d take it in a second.”

I sip my tequila and swallow hard. “So, if I decide to go, I assume that means you’d come with me?”

He scans the room to ensure nobody is listening, then smiles and lowers his voice. “I’ve got work and school, so I couldn’t come for the whole time, but I could probably sneak out for a couple of days and visit you up there.”

“Seriously? I was half joking.”

“Seriously. It could be a fun adventure.”

The hairs on my arms stand up, and I try to suppress a grin. I run my finger along the rim of the glass. “Hmm. Do I want to go to Minnesota? How would the Parkers feel about my inviting a strange man? I’ll think about it.”

A smile spreads across his face. “Your enthusiasm is overwhelming. And I don’t know if I appreciate being called a ‘strange man,’ but I get it. Just let me know. If it doesn’t work, no hard feelings. I’ll be here when you get back.” He pours himself a shot and toasts. “To adventure.”

I sense my cheeks rising as I clink his glass with mine. “To maybe.”

Chapter 5

August 30