Chapter 50 Kit #2
I have no recovery time because all I can envision is the raccoon flying out, arms and legs spread wide like a spider monkey, ready to attack for more frosted snacks.
I scramble up, turn to run…
And stop at the glowing eyes and low growling coming from a few feet away.
“How many of you are there?” I cry, using the open back door of Fiona to hoist myself up on top of the van.
I’m on my hands and knees, wheezing. That’s when my phone vibrates in my back pocket.
I nearly cry with relief.
I don’t even see the new message, just open the chat, fingers flying.
Me: HELP!
I string a few emojis together, like a siren and raccoon. Then, I slide away from the back of the van before scrambling to stand, looking over the side.
Boe<3: yeah…I don’t know what that means
If I wasn’t on the cusp of a heart attack at the ripe age of twenty-three, I would probably laugh. But there is a rustling noise down there, and I type half the message without looking.
Me: tacoom jekp
Boe<3: are you…having a stroke, dude?
I groan and punch my thumbs at the keyboard.
Me: There is a raccoon! Please help me.
I look around, considering if Ian would hear me scream for help all the way next door. The cabins aren’t exactly close, but I bet my vocal cords could be easily coaxed into a higher volume with close enough proximity to a furry fiend.
What if it has rabies?
Yeah, Kit, let’s make this worse.
“Why am I like this?” I whisper, crouching down and peeking over the van on the other side. I have no idea where they went.
When my phone vibrates, I anticipate Bowen being like, “Nah.” Not an image file of me on top of Fiona, ass in the air looking over the opposite side, facing away from the cabin fills my screen.
I spin around, getting up quickly. “I think one is under the van.”
Bowen moves down the stairs of the cabin like a man that has a normal nervous system and was blessed with a solid bravery stat. “If they’re under the van, why are you on top of it?”
“Asserting dominance?”
He’s standing by the side now, looking up at me. There is a ghost of a smile on his face.
“The whimpering like a scared kitten really showed them, huh?”
“I was not…whimpering.” Was I? I clear my throat and look around down there. “I bet the one inside found my blueberry tart stash by now.”
Bowen snorts, pocketing his phone before holding his arms out like I’m a toddler. “Come on.”
Suddenly the top of the van doesn’t seem so bad. I can just live up here. Become one with nature.
His open arms are quite possibly all I want in life.
But I can’t.
Some of the fear from the last ten minutes bleeds out, and my heart is thumping for a whole different reason.
I move stiffly to sit, legs dangling over the edge.
I don’t look at the man but instead the ground.
It looks way higher than I thought it was.
I try to hop down gracefully, but my ankles say no as soon as my feet make contact, and strong arms grab onto my sides before I can make an even bigger fool of myself.
I swear everything inside me comes to a screeching halt for the space between blinks.
My heart stops. Blood stops flowing. Breathing hitched to my paused heart, suspended. I look up into pale blue eyes, and they look down at me. For one second.
One, aching moment, his touch isn’t just a memory.
Bowen’s fingers flex like they remember, too.
I’m the first one to look away.
The calm lake is a mirror for the darkening sky in the distance. I can hear the crickets waking and leaves rustling in the soft breeze.
My fingers grip onto the warm skin under my hands as the arms go to pull away.
“Please…just, give me a second.” I hate how small and raw my voice is. How telling. My heartbreak is a real, throbbing presence. It always has been, hasn’t it? That was part of the problem.
Remember we’re not being selfish anymore, dickhead?
But fuck. I’m not ready for the touch to break. For Bowen to stab me with another barbed remark, another Meyer. I’m not ready to look up at hard, guarded eyes instead of the endless sea I used to know and love.
If I wasn’t so aware of the burn of his hands through my shirt, I may have missed the slow back and forth movement of his thumbs.
Three trails, back and forth. My breath hitches, and I swear the lake hears it.
The ripples break the sleek reflection of a moment ago, dusk fragmented in each tiny crest.
My eyes burn from holding them open for so long.
“Kit.”
It takes effort, but I drag my eyes back up to him. Body tense and ready for the next hit.
He takes in every inch of my face, looks back and forth between my eyes. It’s almost like he’s looking for something, and when he finds it—or doesn’t—he nods. It’s a smooth and soft movement.
Bowen drops his hands slowly but gives me a small smirk when he does. “You were right.”
“Right?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
Bowen nods over at the van, and I glance in the direction he’s looking to see the raccoon watching us from the driver's seat of Fiona.
“Definitely found your blueberry stash.” I bark a laugh, and he continues, “At least he’s sensible and doesn’t smear it with half a jar of peanut butter.”
All the tiny shards of my heart try valiantly to pull together. “It’s the only way.”
Bowen shakes his head. “Is now a good time to tell you there is a very pissed off looking momma raccoon by the back wheel?”
I whip around so fast that something pops. “Bowen!”
He slides the door of the van open so the little shit can escape or call the rest of his family to take over residence. I don’t stick around to find out. I’m already running back to the cabin.
Bowen’s low laugh follows after me.
I’m almost sleeping when I remember that my phone vibrated earlier before I texted Bowen to help. I pick it up, squinting at the bright screen when I pull up my messages.
There is a message from before my emergency text.
Boe<3: I remember everything.