Chapter 12
Wyatt
I sat on the closed toilet, listening to Taylor and Michael Keaton having a ball on the other side of the closed door.
My journal and pen were clutched like precious relics in my hand and I stared down at the blank page in front of me.
It was so much easier to write when there was nothing going on in my life.
Now that I felt like I could burst with the stuff going on in my head, my pen was frozen.
A loud bark made me jump, and the sound of Taylor’s alarmed laughter filled the cabin. The two of them were really going at it in there. For someone who didn’t do dogs…
I caught myself smiling and shook my head abruptly. It was a bad idea. A place I shouldn’t go. Michael Keaton and I were more than happy doing our thing, just the two of us. It didn’t make sense for me to start warming up to Taylor being here. If I’d managed to wall myself away from even my family-
My mind snagged again. Her prompt to call someone yesterday had opened a can of worms that I wasn’t ready for. That was the other thing that was a lot easier before Taylor arrived—keeping unbidden thoughts at bay.
I couldn’t deny it, though. It felt good to have life other than my own filling this empty space. A welcome intrusion into my solitary existence. For someone who didn’t do people…
That fact wasn’t lost on me, and before my runaway thoughts got the better of me I scribbled down the words:
I don’t mind company when it’s the right kind of company. I miss it.
The second sentence came out of nowhere, surprising me while I was writing it. I stared at the words, afraid to delve any deeper into what that might mean for me. For my feelings about Taylor.
“You still alive in there?” Taylor’s gentle knock interrupted my thoughts.
I blinked, shaken from my reverie, and snapped my journal shut. “Uh… I’m- I’m fine,” I called out, hurrying over to the towel rack. I stowed my journal back between a pile of clean towels and went over to the basin to wash my hands.
“Okay, just checking,” Taylor replied, her voice sounding muffled but playful through the door. “Shout if you need anything.”
She would’ve gotten a kick out of the smile on my face, that’s for sure. But there was something about having this one be just mine that I kind of liked.
I emerged from the bathroom, schooling my features so that I’d seem like mostly a normal person who was perfectly normal. Taylor didn’t have to know that as I made my way into the living room, the weight of my journal’s secret clung to me like an anchor.
“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Taylor quirked a brow. “I’m only asking because the runs is contagious, and if you have it, then that means-”
“I don’t have the runs!” A genuine laugh bubbled from my chest, a momentary respite from my inner struggle. “I’m fine, I promise. I just… I was meditating. That’s all.”
“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?” Taylor’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
She meant well, that’s all it was. But it was difficult to crawl out of the shroud I’d been in back there, and unfortunately, Taylor noticed.
“Hey, I’m sorry if I said something wrong yesterday,” she said. “With the phone call… I didn’t mean to upset you or anything.”
I waved her apology away, forcing a reassuring smile. “No need to apologize; you didn’t say anything wrong. I guess I’m just feeling the effects of the storm. Being cooped up for so long.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie, though I omitted the more specific reasons that had stirred my emotions. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth. Not just yet. My past was too heavy, and I wasn’t sure she’d get it. What my past had left me with here in the present.
If someone I’d shared my life with for six years, who knew me better than anyone, couldn’t understand it, then how could I expect Taylor to?
So, I donned my mask, attempting to hide my vulnerability behind the usual facade of typical without the ‘a’ prefixing it. Now wasn’t the time to bear down on her with everything that was wrong with me.
“Apology rescinded, then,” Taylor said with a cheeky smile. Her playful mood was still very much apparent, only this time it was focused on me and not Michael Keaton.
But it was going to take a while before I could match her energy. I knew how these things went. The thing was, I had no idea how I was going to dig myself out of the hole of brooding on the past with her hovering.
“I’m going to get dinner started.” I turned and went to the kitchen before she could say anything else. “You’re welcome to put on some music, or dig into my book collection, if you want.”
I could feel the unwelcome claws of anxiety tightening its hold on me. Taylor’s questions about my life, about the people in it, did so much more than set me on edge. But I couldn’t lose control in front of her.
I moved to the sink, my hands tightly gripping the edges. The cool metal against my fingers provided some relief, a fleeting moment where I felt grounded in reality.
“This is an impressive stockpile you have here,” Taylor’s voice came from across the living room. “I love Neil Young.”
I didn’t turn around, simply tightened my grip on the sink, took a deep, shaky breath, and said something along the lines of, “Uh-huh…”
She went on talking, her voice a meaningless drone in the background of my whirring thoughts. I remained silent through it all. All I needed was to catch a hold of one and strangle it out. Stop the loop. If I could just manage to do that without Taylor noticing, then everything would be fine.
It didn’t take long for Micheal Keaton to sense my unease.
He was by my side in an instant, nuzzling me gently, his big, brown eyes filled with concern.
The comforting bulk of his body pressed against me, a soft whine drifting through the gradually rising panic closing its clammy fingers on my chest.
Desperate to divert my racing thoughts, my gaze darted around the kitchen and picked out random objects.
“Coffee mug… clock…” It was slow, methodical work, and I breathed deeply through it. “Measuring cup… spatu-”
“What are you doing?” Taylor appeared beside me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Hand over my heart that just about pounded clean through my chest, I caught my breath, letting it out again with a shaky laugh.
“It’s nothing, I-” Her eyes poured into mine, and I was struck by the deep-seated care that I found there. It was enough to make me want to quit hiding.
So, I decided to quit hiding.
“It’s a tool I learned in therapy,” I murmured. “When my anxiety starts getting out of control, I have to find five things that are a specific color. It’s a way to distract myself from the loop of anxious thoughts.”
I braced myself for her reaction, unsure of how she’d take my confession. Part of me was preparing to watch her grab her hiking pack and march out of the cabin, choosing to be in the storm instead of shacked up with a crazy person.
Taylor’s expression softened, and her lips curled up on one end. “What color?”
“Wh- what?” I blinked stupidly at her.
She sidled over to me, resting against the kitchen counter. “What color did you choose?”
Stunned. That’s the word. Stunned by Taylor’s non-reaction to what I’d just said. All I did was stand there and look at her.
She looked around, her eyes landing on the spatula in the sink. “Purple… I heard you say spatula, and that’s purple.”
I nodded, a soft smile threatening to eliminate the last remnants of trepidation inside me. “It’s my favorite.”
“Makes sense,” Taylor replied. “I’d be looking out for your…” She scanned the area and then started pointing out objects. “Rain boots… spirit level…”
“Your favorite color’s green?”
“Ding, ding, ding.” She winked at me, aiming a well-timed finger gun my way.
And that’s how easy it was. No panic attack, and no storming out of a beautiful woman. In fact, it was more than just my anxiety having been diffused. I felt better. Taylor had made me feel better.
Michael Keaton jumped up against my leg, panting happily. I gave him a good scratch behind the ears and he yapped at me. He, better than anyone, understood the significance of what had just happened.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I adore this album,” Taylor said, swaying along to the lilting notes floating through the cabin.
I could actually hear the music now. I was able to notice things outside of myself.
“It’s one of my favorites to listen to when I’m cooking,” I said, handing her an apron.
Taylor looked at my hand as though it held a three-headed alien creature.
“What’s happening?” She sounded dubious.
I laughed and pushed the apron into her chest, forcing her to take it. “Stir-fry, that’s what’s happening.”
Then I grabbed my spare from the drawer and slung it around my waist, keeping my eyes on the flurry of emotions that crossed Taylor’s face. Distraction really was a powerful tool, and she was proving to be the best one yet.
“Okay…” Taylor drew out the word as she slowly slipped the apron over her head. “I think we’ve reached the part where I confess that my skills in the kitchen are abysmal, and you’re safer if I’m restricted to only offering moral support.”
I set down the chopping board in front of her, lingering in her personal space. It was bold. For me, anyway. I liked how it caught her off guard.
“Nonsense,” I said, one hand on my hip. But that was to keep from touching her and had little to do with showing attitude. “Stir-fry is simple. High heat, quick action. That’s it.”
She grinned and nodded, her eyes on my mouth. “I’m all ears, Chef. What’s my first task?”
“I’ll start with the carrots, and you get going on those bell peppers,” I replied, pointing to the bowl of some of the few fresh ingredients I had in the cabin. “Thin slices, seeded, please.”
Taylor grabbed a knife and bell pepper, then awkwardly set about attempting to do as she was instructed. I bit back a laugh. She was so freaking adorable. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she concentrated.
“Careful, watch those fingers,” I said, placing my hand over the one holding the knife. Taylor tensed up under my touch, her breath shallowing out when I came to stand up close behind her.
The warmth from her body radiated into mine, and I perched my chin on her shoulder to see the chopping board. Adjusting my grip over hers, I started guiding her through the correct knife motion.
“This is how you want to do it.” My voice was almost unrecognizable with how low and thick it came out. But she was doing things to me without even knowing it, and I had absolutely no defense.
I lifted my hand slightly to let her try on her own, and Taylor continued in the same way I’d demonstrated. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, she turned her face to look at me. Because of the proximity, the seemingly innocent move brought her lips almost right up to mine.
“Like this?” Her breath was hot on my lips, making them tingle with anticipation.
I swallowed hard. “You’re a natural.”