Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
I’ve been pacing in circles around this exact spot for what feels like hours, phone in hand, my mind working at a million miles per hour.
Realistically, Jada and Paul have to know about my new living situation—and I want to tell them. No matter how many times I tell myself my lies and omissions are my only way of surviving, it’s starting to feel like an excuse rather than a real reason.
I want to do the right thing, the honest thing, and that is to unlock my phone, dial her number, and have this conversation. So why can’t I?
The afternoon sunlight filters through the treetops and warms my face. Despite the cold, I take advantage of the sunshine of the second-to-last day of the year and shut my eyes, seeking its calm.
Just like he promised, Travis helped me move into his spare bedroom the day after I toured his farmhouse. I’m officially out of that moldy apartment, and I can say with full confidence that I’ll never miss that place—good riddance.
Then I spent my first night here, under the same roof as Travis but in my own space, and it was… weird but also oddly comforting. I fell asleep at three in the morning, too alert to fully relax when it was so calm outside.
For the past five days, Travis hasn’t been in the house when I woke up. I don’t know if he always gets up that early or if he did it on purpose so I didn’t feel uncomfortable with him there, but I hope it isn’t the latter.
For five days, we haven’t talked much and barely saw each other outside of The Lair. At home, he’s always out in the barn doing something while I eat dinner, and then I hear him come back when I’m already in my room.
I’m not dumb—I know he’s avoiding me. I just have no idea why.
Still, this is the happiest I’ve been in a really long time. In part because I feel safer, in part because I accepted Travis’s offer to handle the bar’s accounting and love my new position, and in part because I met Lola for coffee two days ago.
Our coffee meet-up didn’t last longer than an hour, but in that time, she told me about her little brother, the yoga classes she attends at a local gym and how I should join her, and growing up in Bannport.
She was curious about what it was like to live in Los Angeles, but luckily, she didn’t ask too many questions—which meant my lies didn’t get out of control. I was afraid she would recognize me, but nothing in her body language or actual words gave me that impression. We agreed to meet up again after New Year’s.
Maybe my life is truly changing for good.
I spot Buddy and Cooper sniffing around the lake and decide I need to do this before Travis gets here. This is my afternoon off, and I plan to surprise him with homemade pizza when he gets back if he doesn’t ignore me again, so this call has to happen now.
Taking a deep breath through my nose, I look at Jada’s contact on my phone and remind myself this is the person who cares the most about me in the world. Of course, she’s going to lose her mind a little when I tell her about my new home, but she’ll come to terms with it. She’ll support me, just like she always does.
Before that small window of positivity closes, I press the Call button.
“Honey?” The excitement in her voice makes me feel bad for what I’m about to tell her. “How are you? Did you have a nice Christmas?”
We video chatted that day, but my move was so recent, I couldn’t bring myself to tell them the news then.
I swallow down my nerves. “Hi, Jada. I had a busy day with a rom-com and a few glasses of wine.” That part is true. I made the most of my last night in that hotel. “How about you guys?”
I listen with a genuine smile as she tells me about their Christmas Day and how grown their nieces and nephews are. Jada and Paul might not have or want to have children, but they are the closest parental figures I have. I could never, not in this lifetime or the next, thank them enough for all they’ve done and continue to do for me.
“Paul finally got his electric bike for Christmas, so he can’t complain,” she jokes. “But we don’t have plans for the New Year yet. I think we might end up having a cozy night at home. We aren’t getting any younger.”
I roll my eyes even if she can’t see me, a smile on my face. “Please. You guys don’t look a day over forty, and you know it.”
I’m met with a genuine laugh. “Remind me to call you every single hour for confidence boosts.”
“You know I’ll be down for that.”
“You’re too nice, Allie. Do you have plans for New Year’s?”
Lola and Charlie mentioned a get-together by the lake to watch the fireworks, but I don’t know if I’ll go. “I might hang out with some friends.”
“That sounds amazing, honey,” she says, her voice soft and motherly and everything that is good in the world. “Are they good to you?”
“They’re all really nice to me.” I clear my throat and try not to feel like the most horrible person alive for what I’m about to do. “Jada, there’s… there’s something I need to tell you.”
The mood shifts. As if she were right in front of me, I feel the tension radiating off her body. And when she asks, “What is it?” in that clipped voice I haven’t heard in a very long time, I know I can’t back down.
I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to break the news for days, and because I still have no clue what the best tactic is, I decide to be blunt about it.
“Someone tried to break into my apartment, and I had to move out.”
Silence.
A heavy weight settles in the pit of my stomach, but I keep talking.
“I’m okay. They didn’t get in. I know that doesn’t make you feel better, but… yeah. I called the police, and they said they were going to deal with them, whoever they are. Apparently, I was living in a not-so-safe area, so they think someone drank too much or got too high and… you know.”
I decide not to tell her about the car because I don’t want to make her even more worried.
When she says nothing, I check that she’s still on the other side of the line. She is.
“Jada?”
It takes another couple seconds to finally hear her voice. “That’s… that’s a lot to process, Allie. Are you okay? You said you weren’t hurt? Where did you move to? Do you want us to fly out there?”
“You don’t have to come here. I’m fine, really. I was a bit shaken up at the time, but I feel much better now. I’m not hurt at all.”
“Allie…” she starts. “Allie, are you sure you want to stay in Bannport?”
“Yes.” I’m surprised by how quickly my answer comes out. It’s honest too. “I do, Jada. I didn’t expect to, but I feel at home here. I think… I think I’m starting to build a life here, a life I really like.”
“Okay,” she concedes. “If you think that’s the right choice, you know we’ll support you. We just want you to be safe, honey, and what you’ve just told me…” Another pause. I can only imagine what’s going through her mind right now. “You never said where you’ve moved to. I’m assuming you’re still in town.”
“I’ve been apartment hunting for a while, but there’s nothing available within my budget that isn’t a holiday rental,” I start, pacing around in circles again. The sun is about to set, and the air is getting colder, but I barely feel it—my heart is beating way too fast, and my armpits are sweaty. “I stayed at a hotel for a bit, but, um, Travis offered me one of the spare bedrooms at his farmhouse until I could find a place.”
There’s confusion in her voice as she asks, “Travis? I thought he was your boss. Or is he one of your friends?”
“Travis is my boss,” I confirm.
“Is he… I thought he was married?”
The mental picture of Travis having an imaginary wife who is obviously a thousand times hotter, funnier, prettier, and smarter than I am makes me nauseous. But that is a problem for another day.
“He’s single. No kids either.” And then, for some stupid reason, I add, “It isn’t weird or anything. I promise. He’s a great man, and I feel comfortable here. It’s only temporary. He didn’t want me to pay rent, but I insisted.”
“This is a lot to take in,” she repeats, her words followed by a deep sigh. “Are you sure you’re okay? I know you can take care of yourself, but do you promise you’ll tell me if you need help of any kind?”
“I promise.” I hope she can hear the honesty in my voice. “I’m really okay. Better than I’ve been in a while, in fact. I got a promotion at work.”
Because of course I had to throw that in there. I don’t know if I thought that would make her feel better about this whole mess, but at least she sounds interested and not so freaked out when she asks, “A promotion of what kind?”
My chest feels lighter as I say, “I offered to handle the accounts at the bar, and Travis accepted. I’m so pumped about this, Jada. All the online courses I took weren’t for nothing after all.”
“Of course they weren’t for nothing. Even if you’d never used them, they helped your brain stay active, and you did something you enjoyed and are good at. That’s just as important,” she says, turning into the schoolteacher I miss so much. “We’re proud of you, honey. Really proud of you.”
Don’t cry. “I love you guys.”
“And we love you, but I’m still worried. Paul will be, too, when I tell him later.”
I swallow the uncomfortable lump in my throat. “I’m truly okay now. Travis has two massive guard dogs, cameras, and he’s an ex-Navy SEAL. I’ll be fine. I feel safe here.”
“That’s all really good.” There’s a but coming. I feel it in my bones. “But I’m worried that living with your boss could compromise your position at the bar.”
It’s a reasonable concern to have—and one that has crossed my mind before—but I say, “This is only temporary. And Travis… he’s not the most social person, so I rarely see him at home anyway. We don’t argue about laundry or dirty dishes or anything like that.”
She doesn’t sound too convinced. “Well, as long as you can keep your professional relationship separate, I suppose it will be fine.”
“It will.” And this time, I’m confident it’s not wishful thinking. It’s about time my life starts looking up. “I’m going to make dinner. We’ll talk soon, okay?”
“Okay, honey. We love you, and please take care. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“All right. I love you too.”
There’s no denying that Jada is worried—and I get why—but I also appreciate how much genuine trust she puts in me and my decisions. And it’s that reminder that gets me through the rest of the afternoon as I put away some clean laundry and make two pizzas for dinner.
Some time later, the front door opens, then slams closed, and my boss walks in.
“Allie?” he calls out. When he comes into view, his frown is as deep as it can get. “What are you doing?”
All right, I’ll give it to him—it’s the first time he comes home, and he sees me sitting on his kitchen floor, watching the oven.
“Chilling.”
He doesn’t look amused.
“What are you doing?” he repeats, even though I’ve already answered his question.
“I’m making pizzas for dinner. There’s one for you if you want.”
Travis ignores that, his imposing body looming above mine, looking even bigger when he puts his hands on his hips. “Get up. You’ll catch a cold sitting there.”
“I’ll be fine.” I give him a small smile, hoping to get one in return or—at the very least—a frownless expression. I get neither. “I’m watching them, so they don’t get burned.”
“They won’t,” he grunts. “Get up.”
Travis holds out a hand in my direction. “Come on.”
I try not to overthink it too much as I slide my much-smaller palm into his.
Once I’m on my feet, I let go of his hand before he does it himself and makes my heart do one of those uncomfortable drops.
“Dinner should be ready in ten. Are you hungry?”
I’ll take his grunt as a yes. “You didn’t have to cook for me.”
“And you didn’t have to offer me a room here, but alas. It’s not like I’m being forced to do it, boss man. I’m doing it because I want to. I love cooking. It’s relaxing.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t call you what? Boss man?”
“We’re not at work.”
I shrug. “Fair enough.”
I watch as he takes his winter jacket off, his biceps flexing with the motion. “I’m gonna get changed.”
He disappears down the hallway without another word, and I take a moment to breathe. In and out, and again.
Travis is his own person, and I like him just the way he is. Grumpy edges and all. I shouldn’t expect him to do a one-eighty just because I’m now living here.
He doesn’t come back until the pizzas are done, and I don’t think I’ve struggled so much to take something out of the oven before. Not because these pizzas are particularly heavy, but because Travis is wearing sweatpants. Gray ones.
“Need help?” he asks as he enters the kitchen, making my cheeks grow hotter than the stupid oven.
“It’s fine. I got it.” I set one of the trays down and reach for the other one. “I hope you like pepperoni and cheese. I didn’t get too creative.”
He starts cutting the pizzas into small triangles. “Smells great, Allie. Thanks for dinner.”
Is that my heart soaring a little? I think so.
“It’s nothing. Where do you usually eat? I’ll grab us some plates.”
“You cooked. I got it from here,” he decides. “The couch is fine. You can go sit down.”
It hits me then, as I sit on the couch, that I’ve never hung out here. For some reason, I didn’t feel like I was allowed to be in the living room even though Travis explicitly told me I could hang out in every room of the house except his bedroom—as if.
Travis comes back a couple of minutes later, carrying two plates full of pizza slices. He sets them on the coffee table and goes back to grab two glasses of water and some napkins. Then he sits on the other end of the couch, as far from me as he can without falling off the edge. I try not to let it bother me too much.
“Wanna watch something?” he asks, his eyes glued to the TV he’s just turned on.
“Sure.”
I don’t know what I expected Travis to put on, but a sitcom wasn’t it. Two episodes later, both pizzas are gone thanks to my boss’s insane appetite. I mean, I get it—he has to sustain that ginormous body. I overheard him once saying he works out a few times a week, so it makes sense that he needs the energy.
Wordlessly, he gets up and carries our empty plates to the kitchen once we’re done. And then he comes back, turns off the light, and sits back down on his side of the couch.
This is fine. Totally fine. We’ve just had a homemade dinner together, and now we’re watching TV like friends would do. No biggie.
Did I mention he’s wearing gray sweatpants?
The show we’re watching is one of my favorites, but I find it hard to concentrate on anything but the man sitting only a few inches away. I steal the quickest glance at him, and I regret it only a second later. His sitting position is relaxed, both of his legs open. One of his hands is holding his head that is tilted to the side, and the other hangs loosely over his thigh. A thigh I bet would be more comfortable than this couch.
I don’t want to climb into his lap. Get a grip.
It’s late and dark, and I’m exhausted. It must be that. So when the current episode ends, I turn to Travis.
“If I don’t go to bed now, I’ll fall asleep on your couch and drool all over it, and neither of us wants that.” Is that a tiny smile? “Have a good night, Travis.”
He tips his chin. “Good night, Allie.”
As I head for my bedroom, I can’t help but do a little victory dance in my head. I survived tonight. I had dinner with Travis and behaved like a normal human being.
“Allie. Wait.”
He’s on his way to the hallway, only a few feet away, when I turn around.
“Yeah?”
Something weird happens next. Travis, the man who oozes confidence from every pore in his body, hesitates. He opens and closes his mouth once before frowning, as if he couldn’t believe he’s struggling with whatever he wants to say.
Huh.
But this is still Travis, which means he recovers quickly.
“There’s a New Year’s party by the lake coming up. A few of us are going.”
This must be the gathering Charlie and Lola told me about. But why is he bringing it up?
“Would you like to come with me?”
With me.
I wasn’t going to go, so what does it say about me that it suddenly sounds like the best plan in the world?
“You can say no if you have other plans,” he says, voice all husky.
If he’s dying to get an answer from me—which I doubt is the case—I decide to cut his suffering short.
“It sounds fun,” I say with a smile. “I’d love to go with you.”
He tips his chin once. “All right. Night, Allie.”
I wave at him over my shoulder as I resume the walk back to my bedroom. “’Night, boss man.”
When I hear him grunt in annoyance behind me, I don’t hold in the laughter.