Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Sloane
I can’t believe I’m here.
The moment I step out of my car, the world feels different.
The air is cooler, fresher… like it’s been scrubbed clean by the mountains. The retreat’s cabin stands tall before me, a quiet masterpiece nestled against the curve of the rocky hills.
Tall pine trees stretch toward the sky, their deep green needles shivering in the wind, and a distant stream murmurs in the background as nature itself breathes a sigh of relief.
I glance at the cabin again, taking it all in.
It’s one of those rustic yet refined places that seems to have stepped straight out of a Pinterest board for “dream getaway.” Wooden beams span the vaulted ceilings, and large windows let soft light flood the open-plan space, revealing an interior as stunning as the landscape itself.
From the porch, I can see nearly all of Coyote Glen sprawled out below me. The little town looks like something out of a snow globe, even though it’s only November. The rooftops are dusted with frost, and the chimneys are curling ribbons of smoke into the crisp air.
Down the winding road, the Coyote Cup coffee shop glows warm and golden, and the spire of the tiny church peeks through the pines. Beyond that, the river glints as liquid silver, cutting through the valley as the hills roll on.
For a second, I forget to breathe. It’s so heartbreakingly beautiful up here, so quiet.
Like the world before the noise.
I tighten my grip on the handle of my suitcase and focus on what I’m really here for. The cabin. The artists. Cooking.
I lift my hand and knock, my heart hammering as if I’m about to meet royalty instead of a potential employer. This is supposed to be my reset. My escape. My clean break.
The door creaks open, and I’m hit with a rush of warmth scented with pine and wood smoke.
I straighten slowly, my stomach tightening as the door swings wider.
And there they are.
I freeze. I don’t even know what to say.
I know these men, and here they are, staring right at me with those faces I haven’t seen in nearly a decade. The same faces that were etched in my memory from that summer at EchoFest.
It’s Wild Reverie.
I blink, disoriented, because no, this can’t be happening. Not now, not here. These men, Ezra and Creed, likely won’t recognize me, but I remember them clearly. I recall interviewing them and getting drinks with them, too.
And of course, I remember Roman…
Creed’s got his arms crossed, his brooding expression softened only slightly by the curiosity in his eyes. Ezra stands a little behind him, arms hanging loosely by his sides, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he’s trying to figure me out.
They don’t know me, but I’m feeling this strange sense of recognition from their eyes as though this is a moment from a different time. One I didn’t think would ever come back to me.
A burst of awkward laughter escapes me, completely unplanned, as I scramble for the words to explain why I’m standing in their cabin with a suitcase at my feet, like I belong here.
But how do you explain that you met a decade ago only for the universe to bring you together again in the most unexpected way?
I push my hair out of my face, feeling heat rise in my cheeks as my mind scrambles for something intelligent to say. But all I can think is: how did I end up here?
There’s a beat of silence, and my stomach churns.
“So,” I finally manage, trembling slightly, “I’m the cook you hired…”
“Right,” Ezra replies. “Come in, please.”
“This place is stunning,” I add, “It’s like something out of a dream.”
Creed’s gaze shifts toward the view outside the windows, and for a moment, he’s somewhere far off, lost in his thoughts. The scenery is beautiful, but I get the sense that it doesn’t really affect him the way it does me.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “It’s nice. Let’s show you around.”
I follow them inside and immediately feel I’ve stepped into some rustic dream.
Ezra glides through the space, all easy confidence and charm. Creed, however, follows in a way that feels like he’s trying to occupy as little space as possible, as if he’s a guest in his own house.
Where the hell is Roman?
Truth be told, I haven’t heard much about Wild Reverie for years, so I don’t know if Roman is still a member of the band.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to ask. I don’t think this is the best time to bring up my history with the band.
As we walk through the cabin, I can’t help but drink in every detail. The open-plan living area is just as gorgeous as I’d imagined. Exposed wooden beams stretch across the high ceiling, and massive windows frame a jaw-dropping view of the mountains.
And then there’s the stone fireplace, the kind that makes you want to curl up with a mug of hot cocoa and a blanket, and maybe never leave.
“Over here’s the main living space,” Ezra says, flashing me a grin and gesturing toward a plush leather sofa in front of the fire.
“This is where the magic happens, or at least where we kill time. It’s the perfect place for writing, lounging, or simply losing ourselves in the sunset.
You know, the usual kind of tranquility. ”
I try to play it cool, but my eyes can’t help but go wide as I take it all in. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend hours here? This place practically screams relaxation.
“Nice,” I murmur, probably a little too breathlessly for my own comfort.
Ezra gives me a knowing look, his lips twitching, trying not to laugh at my apparent awe. He turns toward the far side of the room, obviously accustomed to all this beauty.
“And this is the kitchen,” he adds.
My heart skips a beat. The kitchen is… Well, it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Dark granite countertops, sleek copper pots hanging from an iron rack, and a gas stove so fancy it shines.
The space is enormous, with a massive island in the center that begs to be used for everything, from cooking to casual dinner parties to maybe impromptu dance-offs with too much wine.
I already have a million ideas running through my head about how I’m going to spend my days in here. Chopping vegetables, stirring sauces, maybe making some overly complicated dessert that nobody really needs but everyone will love.
I can already feel all my stress just melting away.
Creed, meanwhile, is standing by the windows, gazing out toward the valley below. He seems completely lost in thought, like the view is only registering in some far-off part of his brain.
“This is… kind of my dream set up,” I laugh. “What a kitchen.”
Ezra chuckles and then gestures toward the hallway. “Given that you have the day to yourself before work begins, it seems only right to offer you the time to unwind, settle in, and gather some much-needed rest. Make yourself comfortable, as though this place were already yours.”
“Right,” I say, blinking out of my haze. I follow him down the hallway, heart still fluttering with excitement.
Creed trails behind, still as quiet as ever, his gaze fixed on the view outside, though I’m starting to wonder if he’s even noticed we’ve moved on.
We reach the first door at the end of the hall. Ezra swings it open with a flourish. “Ta da! Your humble abode for the time being.”
The room is gorgeous, more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined.
It’s cozy and serene, with a big bed piled high with fluffy white linens and a comforter so inviting I almost want to dive into it right now.
The walls are a soft, calming shade of blue that complements the dark wood furniture, and the floor is covered in a thick, plush rug that could swallow me whole if I stepped onto it barefoot.
A large window overlooks the valley, the soft afternoon light casting a warm, golden glow on everything in the room. I can already picture myself in here, curled up with a book and a cup of tea, just relaxing after a long day of cooking.
“Wow,” I breathe. “This is perfect. Much nicer than the whole apartment I just left.”
Ezra steps aside to let me enter, and Creed lingers near the doorway, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He’s trying to be present but also distant at the same time.
“It’s pretty peaceful here,” Ezra continues. “A perfect sanctuary to restore your spirit, if you ask me. You can start working tomorrow, but for now, you can unwind. You’ve got the whole evening to yourself.”
“Thanks,” I reply, glancing back toward Creed, hoping he might break his silence, but no such luck. Instead, I look back at Ezra, trying to keep my nerves in check. “I’m really excited to get started.”
Ezra grins, that easy smile of his making everything feel a little less intimidating. “Good. We’re looking forward to it. If you need anything at all, whether it’s help with the kitchen or directions to the best hiking spot around here, just let us know.”
I smile at him, my gratitude for his warmth kicking in. “I will. Thanks.”
“Of course.” Ezra gives me a playful wink before turning to leave, and then Creed follows suit.
Before I know it, I’m standing in my new room, the space around me quiet and still.
This is strange, but maybe that’s the point of this whole “reset” thing. To step into a new version of myself. One with fewer distractions, fewer expectations.
As I hear the quiet click of the door behind me, I take in a deep breath and walk over to the window, looking out at the expansive view once more.
The town below is still as peaceful as ever, its little buildings nestled against the hills, the winding river catching the last rays of the day. Everything here is on pause, like the rest of the world is waiting for me to catch up.
I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding since I arrived, feeling a weight has shifted off my shoulders.
I’m here. This is real. And I can’t wait to see what happens next.