Chapter 12
SHADE
Before I’ve turned my car off, Millie’s already parked and hopping out of hers. I go to follow her, but the moment I open my door, she’s whipping around and shaking her head at me. The finger she’s waving in my direction keeps me seated.
“No! I’ll just be a minute.”
“I can’t come inside with you? I’ll just say hi to Shelly.”
“No. You’re just going to distract her. I’ll be quick,” she rambles.
I still don’t know why she needed to go to the office before her place. “As a bunny, princess. I’ve got an extra-large pizza on my passenger seat that’s going to get cold.”
Happy with that, she opens the screen door and scurries inside, letting it smack shut behind her. I inhale the smell of greasy pepperoni with extra cheese and lean into my seat, waiting.
I glance at the time after what feels like forever, seeing that it’s only been three minutes.
Still, that feels like long enough for her to have done whatever it was she needed to.
There’s nothing in the office besides a few Shimmer Lake sweatshirts, fishing rods, and life jackets.
Unless she’s planning on taking me on a late-night canoe ride, I don’t think she’ll be snapping any of those things up.
“Fuck it,” I mutter before getting out.
The sun has already set, so I follow the glowing lanterns up the log steps. Camping chairs are set along both sides of the porch, but there’s only one that has a stool in front of it. That’s always been Shelly’s spot, and it makes me feel too nostalgic to see that nothing has changed here at all.
“Are you sure you don’t have any other cards we can try instead? Maybe there’s been a mistake at the bank,” Shelly suggests.
“Um, can you just try this one once more? There should be enough on it.”
I hear Millie’s voice before I see the shape of her behind the screen door. With a tug, I have it out of my way. It creaks loudly on its hinges, interrupting the two women.
Shelly glances my way and offers a brief smile before focusing back on Millie. “I can, honey.”
Millie doesn’t respond to my interruption the same way. Instead of smiling at me, she frowns, her lip getting sucked into her mouth. The heat on her cheeks isn’t the kind I enjoy. Quite the opposite, really.
She stays silent, her heeled foot tapping the old floors as she watches Shelly swipe her card through the machine and pass it over to her. There’s a shake to her hand when she pushes the buttons on the machine and waits a few seconds.
Two low beeps on the machine follow.
Millie gulps and lowers it to the counter. I watch Shelly slowly pick the machine up and put it away. There’s no movement from Millie. Not even a forced laugh or straightening of her shoulders.
“What’s going on?” I ask, unable to stop myself from joining them.
The lack of acknowledgment from Millie is concerning.
“Just a technical difficulty, Shade. My machine is probably just out of whack. I’ll bring it home with me tonight and see if it’s in need of an update,” Shelly says.
Millie shakes her head, suddenly alert. “I can’t afford to stay here.”
“Yeah, funny joke,” I say with a snort.
“I’m not joking around. This isn’t funny to me.”
I sober up, turning to face her completely. The way she’s shrunk into herself is similar to when I first met her. Her shell is strong, but I’m stronger.
“You’re working for me now. Just put her stay on my card, Shelly,” I say easily.
Millie’s body snaps straight, her eyes narrowing on me. “No, she’s absolutely not doing that.”
“Why not? Consider it a living allowance. I need a receptionist, and there’s nobody in Oak Point wanting to take your place.”
“That’s not why you’re doing this, and you know it.”
The corner of my mouth twitches. “And why would I be doing it, then? What kind of guy do you think I am, princess?”
“I’m not being a freeloader. That’s not who I want to be here,” she snaps, not giving me a real answer.
“You’re not being a freeloader. You work for me.”
“There’s no need to argue tonight. I’d never let anyone not have a place to stay at night,” Shelly interrupts.
I already knew that, but I know that hearing it relaxes Millie slightly. Her anger slips for a brief moment, making room for a thankful gaze shared between them. Then, she’s glaring at me, making it hard not to laugh at how unscary she is, even pissed off.
“You could also stay at the studio instead. Would that be better for you?” I ask.
Millie pauses, shock blowing across her features. “Are you really making jokes right now?”
“I’m not joking.”
Fuck, I wish I were. I’m such a blabbermouth. She’s not going to stay at my place, and I wouldn’t want her to anyway.
“And I’m not moving in with you.”
“Shit, Millie, I’m not asking you to move in. I’m offering you a room to crash if you refuse to let me help you stay here. That’s all.”
Shaking her head, she looks to Shelly. “I’m sorry about all of this. I’ll head in here tomorrow morning so we can talk in private.”
“Alright. Have a good night, you two,” Shelly replies, eyeing me curiously.
I shrug and toss her a wink before waiting for Millie to head out. She huffs, looking at me briefly while passing by. I follow, keeping a step behind her the entire way outside.
“What cabin is yours? I’m fucking starving,” I say once we’ve reached our parked cars.
She opens her door. “I should leave you to eat by yourself.”
“But you won’t.”
“Don’t test me.”
“I like when you get pissed off, princess. You look dangerous.”
“Do you have a fear kink or something?”
With a low laugh, I say, “I said you were dangerous, not that I was afraid of you.”
She doesn’t answer before getting into her car and starting it up. I follow her down the gravel roads through the campground and past the few cabins that I’ve been to during my few stays at Shimmer Lake. It’s been years, but I have quite a few fun memories here.
Once she pulls into the cleared area amongst the trees surrounding cabin twelve, I wait for her to park before joining. I figure that she’s still annoyed with me, so I give her space to get inside the cabin alone while grabbing our food and the six-pack in the trunk.
I’m half-surprised when I don’t find the cabin door locked. I step inside and survey the space, my hands still full.
It’s clean and smells like lemons from whatever products were used in here.
There’s a fireplace against the wall in the small living area, along with an old brown couch, a scratched coffee table, and a flannel-printed armchair.
The kitchen is nothing more than a bit of counter, a white fridge, and an oven that’s without a doubt older than me.
The homey feel is unmatched, though. Despite this place’s age or décor, it feels like what a cabin should feel like. Authentic and original.
The temperature is alarming, though. It’s fucking freezing.
“I don’t have plates,” Millie says.
Turning toward the sound of her voice, I stare at her as she comes out of the bathroom.
The lighting in here is so different from the studio—more intimate.
Her posh outfit appears different here. It’s still ridiculous to me for someone to wear a skirt this close to October, but I’m starting to piece together that Millie isn’t the type to care about that.
“You don’t need a fork and knife to eat your pizza, then?” I tease.
“No. I’m saving those for when I want to stab you in the crotch later.”
My laugh is rough, unexpected as it tears its way up my throat. Millie tries not to smile, her cheeks twitching.
“You’re vicious.”
“I’m not usually,” she admits, passing me on her way to the couch.
Without her heels on, she’s got to be nearly a foot shorter than me. Staring, I join her and drop the pizza and beer on the coffee table. She watches me open the pizza box and licks her lips.
“I didn’t think you were really going to split it half and half,” she notes, examining the pizza.
“I don’t joke about pizza.”
“Noted.”
Tucking her legs beneath her, she leans over the couch and snags the first slice from the ham-and-pineapple side. With the drooping corner hanging in front of her mouth, she darts a look at me.
“Don’t watch me eat. It’s weird.”
“I’m not,” I mutter, reluctantly looking away.
She lets it go, and I take a piece for myself, immediately biting into it. My stomach growls, and a soft giggle follows.
“Don’t laugh at me while I eat. It’s weird,” I tease between bites.
“Don’t be a copycat.”
Spreading my legs slightly, I lean over them and look at her again. “You’re going to have to figure out what you’re doing here sooner rather than later. If I overstepped with my offers, I’m sorry. I’ve got a habit of jumping in to help my friends without thinking about whether they want it or not.”
With a sigh, Millie lowers her pizza. “It’s not that I don’t want your help. If I accept it, I’ll be no better here than I was back home.”
“Explain that to me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I like that you don’t know me for who I was there. It’s given me the freedom to try and find who I am without all of that,” she explains tightly, avoiding my eyes.
“Unless you’ve changed your entire personality, I can’t see that happening.”
“That’s the thing. I hardly know you, but I still know enough to tell that you’d have hated me if we’d met anywhere else.”
“That’s a bold statement,” I declare, a little annoyed at her assumption.
“It’s the truth. I’d never have allowed myself to sit at a bar with a stranger and spend hours speaking with him.
If I’d so much as looked at you back home—a guy with tattoos from head to toe and an arrogant grin—I’d have turned away and left.
Not because I wouldn’t have thought you were attractive, but because it would have led to nothing but trouble. ”
“Was your goal for dinner tonight to stomp on my ego?”