Chapter 8

eight

R ox got ready for bed, shoved the chair against the door as an early warning if someone attempted to break in with a little more force than needed, and set his alarm. It was much harder to hide from the annoyance and the hurt caused by Lynck’s lack of response, with nothing to do but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling.

The banter before they’d hooked up had been good. Somehow, it had gone wrong. Clearly, he was shit in bed, and Lynck wasn’t interested in anything more.

Way to roll into town and fall on the first offered dick.

Twenty minutes later, he was still awake and contemplating every choice that had led him to Elder Ridge. He could’ve stayed in the apartment that he’d shared with his mother and kept his old job. There’d been no need to sell everything and leave, but there’d been too many memories.

His uncles and aunts had done nothing to help the first time his mother got sick when he was fifteen. Ten years later, all they’d done was turn up for the funeral. Which was still more than his father had managed.

Now, he’d traveled half the country, and he didn’t fit into the space he’d left. He needed to carve himself a new niche, and while he enjoyed traveling and picking up odd jobs, it had worn as thin as his bank account. It would be nice to have his own pillows and a place to put his boots at the end of the day. Fuck, it would be nice to have a kitchen. He wasn’t sure he remembered how to cook even though he’d lugged his mother’s recipe book around for the last six months.

His phone lit up with a message, and his heart jumped far too hopefully.

For several seconds, he refused to look. Lynck had ignored him all day. He could fucking wait until tomorrow.

But he couldn’t wait. Was it a brush-off?

Or an excuse?

“Fucking pathetic.” He reached out and grabbed his phone, desperate to read Lynck’s message.

Sorry for the late reply. I was working then teaching, but I’m free tomorrow if you want to get coffee and have a walk by the lake.

If he met up with a monster by the lake, was he going to end up in one of the true crime documentaries his mother loved? Maybe, but the same risks applied when meeting anyone in an isolated location. Besides, he’d suggested it, in part because it was free, but he did also want to check out the lake. There might be some nice trails to run, assuming there were no monsters in the woods waiting to eat him.

Before he came up with a reply, Lynck messaged again.

We can meet at Beastly and then walk down to the beach?

Which is what he’d wanted to do today, but it was probably a good thing Lynck hadn’t replied as instead Rox had gotten his food sorted, and started checking out room and rental listings.

For a second, he considered being petty and leaving replying until morning, but he wasn’t good at playing those kinds of games.

Sure.

He hit send, not wanting to sound too keen after being ignored all day. But he did need to confirm a time. He finished work at five, and he’d want a shower before meeting up.

Does six work?

Lynck sent him a heart.

Rox smiled. Maybe now, he’d be able to go to sleep.

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