Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Elle
MORNING RAYS OF SUNLIGHT PENETRATED the drapes, their bright flicker robbing me of my drowsy peace.
I stretched into the mattress, my spine carving into the memory foam.
My thoughts resurrected with every heavy blink that woke me.
Yes, the day was new, but Jesse was still a liar.
The realization hurt a little less on the comfortable guest bed, which supported my body better than he ever had.
Still, waking up without Jesse by my side reminded me I’d be alone for the foreseeable future.
Something I hadn’t faced in over two years.
The only thing stronger than losing the future I’d thought I knew was knowing I could create a new one. If I were honest with myself, I’d admit I had seen it coming. None of that mattered anymore. It was the first day of my new life.
Waking up on Haroldeen Lane was not a bad start.
The blinking battery icon illuminating my phone screen evidenced my lengthy text exchange with Ruthie the night before. Our conversation had lasted well into the early morning hours. Her texts were my lifeline—another reason I needed to grab my charger back at the hotel.
Buffering my worries with positive self-talk was how I chose to start my day—something I often advised others to do in their therapy sessions.
Your healing starts today, Elle. You’ve worked too hard to let a boy give you crippling anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and fractured confidence. When the right man comes along, you’ll know. And you knew it wasn’t Jesse “Jizz-Faced” Jenkins.
Cool air kissed my skin when I adjusted the comforter and freed my legs, planting my feet on the floor like an unsteady baby bird. The wood chilled my toes as I tiptoed across it.
Too bad I don’t have any slippers. Or clean socks. Or a change of clothes, I thought before noticing a note on the dresser by the door.
Didn’t want to come in while you were asleep.
I ran out last night to grab something for you to wear today.
I couldn’t have you going out in my clothes, not that they didn’t look like they had been made for you.
Come to the kitchen if you’re hungry.
—A
Austin’s sweetness dissipated the Jesse fog that continued to follow me. Grinning, I opened the bedroom door and found an overflowing plastic bag hanging from the handle.
A pair of black flannel leggings, an olive-green sweater, knee-high socks, no-show thong underwear, and a puffer jacket fell onto the bed as I emptied the bag’s contents. The items were things I would pick for myself. Things that complemented each other.
How is he so good at this?
Austin was polite, but not shy about it.
A refreshing combination.
After carefully ripping the tags from my new clothes, I dressed and ran my fingers through the ends of my hair, wondering if the style I’d worked so hard to perfect the day before had stuck around.
For some reason, I didn’t feel the need to hide my true self in front of Austin. He’d already seen me at my lowest.
Chief Carterson’s kitchen was as endearing as the rest of his house; its charm welcomed me as I approached it.
Cabinets and shelving made of oak lined the modest room, utilizing the space in a way that I imagined a good interior designer would.
The dark river-rock backsplash rested vertically, meeting glossy, well-polished countertops.
Their shine showcased Austin’s effort to preserve the space’s natural beauty.
It was the kind of kitchen that begged you to cook in it.
Austin had a shirt on, but his stance was no less intriguing than the last time I had seen him. He faced the stove while his right hand gripped a frying pan’s handle. He flipped two sizzling eggs without a spatula.
Impressive.
His free hand reached for a plate, lined with bacon and toast, on the counter beside him, shaking it gently to make room for the eggs. When I looked at Austin, the effort he was putting forth, my anger toward Jesse tripled.
How could someone I barely knew care for me in a way that my boyfriend of two years never had?
“Smells amazing. Should I call you Chef or Chief this morning?” I greeted Austin, doing my best not to startle him.
“My one and only houseguest can call me whatever she’d like.” He turned, exposing bedroom eyes and the darkened bags supporting them.
He’d had a late night. Guilt stung my gut when I remembered he had run out to get me clothes.
He continued, “You think the smell is good? Just wait until you taste it.”
“I can only imagine it’ll be as impressive as that one-handed egg flip,” I complimented, appreciating his icebreaker.
He was good at warming otherwise cold situations, like the first show of flame at a bonfire.
“You sleep well?” He walked toward the table and set an overflowing plate down next to a glass of golden juice before returning to the stove.
“I did. And thank you so much for the clothes; I couldn’t have picked better myself. You didn’t have to. But I can’t lie; I’m grateful that you did.” I pulled and released the shoulder of my new sweater.
“I see we have similar tastes. Hopefully, that also applies to breakfast because this is the Hotel Carterson special.” He beamed.
Austin returned to the table and placed two sets of silverware and a matching dish across from mine. A carafe of coffee and two mugs filled the rest of the surface between us. We sat at the same time, joining each other.
“You do this for all the girls you bring home?” I asked, looking down at my plate instead of up at him.
I had been ballsy enough to ask the question, but not to look him in the eye while he answered. He didn’t owe me an answer anyway.
“Huh? No. Are you kidding? I haven’t cooked breakfast for a girl in years, but I do love your faith in me.”
He bulldozed my doubts while planting new ones in their place.
How was that possible? There wasn’t a single thing about Austin I didn’t like so far, making it hard to comprehend how someone like him wasn’t in a relationship.
Maybe he just wasn’t the marrying type? Was he divorced?
He was certainly more established than I was, suggesting he was somewhere in his thirties.
The scent of freshly griddled protein landed in my nostrils, reminding me that none of it was my business. Besides, I was starving, and the cooking-magazine-esque meal tempting me needed my attention.
“I’m not kidding.” I finally looked up at him, unable to resist a bite of bacon before finishing my thought. “You just seem like a good guy with a lot to offer. I get the impression that your solitude here is intentional.” I swallowed, triggering a change of expression across his face.
A shadow fell over his eyes just before a top row of perfectly imperfect teeth distracted me through his slightly fallen bottom lip. Instead of looking fake and veneered, his teeth had a slight crook and a natural brightness that reminded me of the smile made famous by Tom Hardy.
Rugged and meant to be his.
His prolonged pause told me his mouth had more to tell.
“You’re right about that. I like my solitude.” He sipped his juice, nodding. “I appreciate peace and order because my childhood didn’t always provide it. That’s why I chose the military.” Austin’s tone amplified his confidence. His pride in knowing how far he’d come.
My heart turned to jelly.
“Sorry, that was a little personal of me to ask,” I admitted.
“Are you more akin to chaos and disorder, Ms. Madelyn?” he asked quickly.
Dryness coated my windpipe. The question struck me from left field.
“No, not at all. Although chaos and disorder seem to have found me lately …” I poured steaming coffee into his mug and then mine, avoiding looking at his face while my blush simmered.
“I’ve learned that the best way to find what’s meant for you is to leave the things disrupting your life in the past and stay open to new things that might help re-center you.” Austin clearly spoke from experience.
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It takes time. But time is something that you can’t get back. So, I try not to waste mine on the wrong people.”
Austin’s mossy eyes chilled me when they met mine. He sipped his black coffee, transforming my hopefulness into something far less cheery.
How much time did I waste on Jesse? I thought.
Far too much.
I nodded, even though the statement stung.
Austin continued, “I know that sounds harsh. I just … I believe in you. You’re going to get through this time in your life and look back at it when you realize it led you to where you were meant to be.”
A lone tear struck my right cheek. I stuffed a forkful of eggs into my mouth to avoid responding to his powerful words. He noticed and offered me a sympathetic nod.
“Anyway, I thought you’d like a ride back to your hotel. You’re welcome to stay with me again tonight, and I hope that you do, but I thought you’d like to collect your things at least,” he said.
Austin’s invitation to stay another night wasn’t off the table. Besides, staying in the Jesse and Elle love shack didn’t excite me any more than it had the day before.
I had time to think it over.
“I’d love to get my stuff. I do have another question though,” I added.
Based on our interactions, I knew Austin wouldn’t like what came next.
I asked him anyway.
“Can you tell me where Jesse is?”