4. Spinning Wheels
Chapter four
Spinning Wheels
Chloe
“I swear to God, Harp, if I weren’t so hungry, I’d smash this pretzel into his face. Maybe even grind it into that perfect, smug grin of his until he choked on his own cockiness.”
“At least make sure it’s mustard-flavored.” Harper snorts laughter, dabbing at a spot of mustard on the side of her mouth. “If you’re going to assault someone, at least make it gourmet.”
She hands Luke a ten and hooks one arm through mine, nudging me back down the sidewalk.
“Thanks for opening the pretzel cart early for us, Luke.” I call over my shoulder. He tips his cap in response. “And quit teasing me about that scheming jerk.”
I roll my eyes at Harper, picking up my pace. The faster I walk, the faster I can pretend Brody Stirling’s annoyingly perfect face doesn’t exist.
The sun’s creeping higher, baking down on us, even though it’s just past 8 a.m. Storefronts along Main Street are getting ready to open, but Harper and I are well into our post-run routine: snacks and venting. Basically, my version of therapy.
“He really got to you, didn’t he? And yet, you’ve been talking about him for the last thirty minutes.” Harper’s voice pulls me out of my murderous—I mean, harmless—fantasies.
“Of course he got to me,” I mutter, biting into the pretzel. He’s like a sexy little parasite who’s crawled under my skin and refuses to leave. “But not in that 'mysterious and intriguing' way—no, in the 'I want to push him into a lake' kind of way. He’s impossible.”
“And maybe hold him under until the bubbles stop, right?” Harper’s eyes sparkle with mischief.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I frown at Harper, wondering if she’s about to suggest drowning someone is a bit extreme. “We already established that Brody got to me in the meeting yesterday.”
She lets out a sigh, shaking her head slowly. “I know, but I thought we were past it. I made you my special banana split sundae and everything.”
Yeah, she did. And it was freaking delicious.
“I know, and I love your sundaes.” I give her arm a pathetic little squeeze. It’s all I’ve got. “I didn’t have the heart to keep harping on it after you were pulling out all the stops to cheer me up. Besides, I figured it’d get better after I slept on it.”
“Except it hasn’t gotten better, because you’re still as worked up as you were yesterday,” she chides. “And just so you know, I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re pretending to be fine. But thank you for not denigrating the holy banana split sundae. I appreciate that.”
Hand clutched over my heart, I say, “I would never.”
We both laugh, and for a moment, it feels like maybe I can let it go. But no. The second the laughter fades, my brain goes right back to him.
Because after all that venting to Harper about him, I left out one key detail: the way his gorgeous blue eyes sparked something inside of me.
And not the ‘I hate you so much’ kind of spark.
More like the ‘ I want to strangle you and rip off your clothes at the same time ’ kind.
It’s a dangerous kind of attraction— hate, lust, and oh my God don’t touch me but please also please touch me.
Something I’m desperately trying not to admit, because the last thing I need is a crush on the devil in a designer suit.
I thought about it as I fell asleep last night, and I’m pretty sure it snuck into my dreams too. That feeling of warmth, blooming in my chest and spreading through my body. The ultimate betrayal—my own hormones turning against me.
Telling Harper isn’t an option. She’d snort a piece of pretzel up her nose and probably choke from laughing so hard.
Focusing on the present is useless. Apparently, Brody has taken up permanent residence in my brain. Just what I need. His stupid ass face floating around in my head.
“Let’s see what Sylvie has to say and take it from there.” Harper pops the last bite of pretzel into her mouth, completely unfazed that I’m spiraling into a personal crisis.
I’ve been so up in my head, I’m barely halfway through mine. Not exactly easy to eat when your brain’s caught in a tug-of-war between hating someone and… well, imagining them naked.
For the sake of not wasting, I pick at a few crumbs and roll them around on my tongue. Is stuffing my face with carbs a healthy coping mechanism? Does it count as emotional eating if it’s carbs ?
“Do you think I did the right thing, calling Bluepeak’s oldies this morning?” Now I’m second-guessing myself. Great.
“You need to stop calling them oldies,” Harper replies without hesitation. “I know you’re not referring to their ages, but they don’t, and if they catch wind of it—”
“They won’t,” I say calmly, narrowing my eyes. “Not unless the wind delivers it herself.” Which, knowing my luck is entirely possible. Gossip flies fast around here.
Without warning and with her signature swiftness, Harper plucks the half-eaten pretzel from my hands.
“If you’re implying I’m someone who can’t be trusted…” she says, stuffing her face with a huge bite.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Yeah, and you love me,” she bumps her shoulder against mine, making us both sway on the sidewalk as we’re walking. “You know what else you are?”
“Nope, and I don’t want to know.”
“Not being totally honest with me about this CEO who’s gotten under your skin.”
Not looking at her, I keep my gaze fixed ahead, pretending to be absorbed by the path I've walked for nearly thirty years. But I can feel Harper’s steady gaze on me, studying my face closely for whatever reaction. I’m careful not to give away too much.
Brody’s effect on me doesn’t make sense. Let alone explain it to Harper.
Deflect and distract. It’s my only defense.
“I’ve been here for almost an hour, and I have yet to see a single raised hand,” I mock, channeling Brody’s sarcastic comment from yesterday. It gets a laugh out of Harper, but I’m far from amused. “How does someone like that not get under your skin, Harp? He’s a pain.”
“I’m not arguing the fact that he’s a bit of an asshole—”
“A bit? Try a whole, gigantic one.” I use my hands to illustrate the size I’m thinking of.
“I know, but there’s also no harm in keeping an open mind about this.”
Silence. Because, seriously, what the hell kind of suggestion is that? I gape at her, unable to form a worthy comeback.
“You think I’m losing my mind, but I’m not, I promise,” she explains. “The guy seems like he knows what he’s talking about—that whole thing about achieving progress without losing what makes Bluepeak special? What if he’s right?”
My brain stumbles over itself, desperately trying to come up with something that won’t sound childish. All I can think of is strangling him with his designer tie.
“Take a breath.” Harper throws her arm over my shoulders. “I love you, but what’s the harm in seeing what he can bring to the table?”
Without warning, I pull away, increasing my pace and putting distance between us. Lakeside’s coming up, and I don’t have a lot of time to get my game face on before the meeting I called.
“Bring to the table?” I shoot her a sharp look. “The only thing that man brings to the table is an ego big enough to knock over all the chairs.”
My words finally find some kind of order, spilling out before my common-sense meter can file an objection. “Harper, he basically made a fool of me in front of everyone yesterday, told us all he doesn’t care what anyone in this town wants. He’s going ahead with his plans whether we like it or not.”
“But his plans aren’t—”
“It’s not even the hotel!” My voice goes up a few octaves.
“I don’t care about that as much as I care about the wildlife he’ll be displacing.
Entire stands of forest, animals… all the things tourists come here to see, Harp.
What will they be staring at when they’re sitting in the windows of their swanky hotel rooms?
Concrete? He might even end up taking over most, if not all, of Crystal Heart Lake. ”
“He wouldn’t.”
I stop and spin to face her, hands on my hips.
“Oh, wouldn’t he? Do you think he’s going to build this monstrosity of a hotel, then say, Oh well, I guess that’s it.
I’ll just go home now and play with my yachts ?
No, Harper. He’s going to set up camp like an invasive species and take over everything.
Next thing you know, every corner store will be hawking Brody merch.
‘Get your overpriced coffee in a Stirling mug!’”
Her ignorance is almost unbelievable. It’s enough to fan the flames in my chest.
“Oh, Brody Stirling would gladly flatten all of Bluepeak in the name of progress.” I argue, grabbing back what’s left of my pretzel.
Then he’ll probably rename the town ‘Stirlingville,’ slap his face on the welcome sign, and start charging people for breathing the air.
” I’ll be giving tours of the Stirling Legacy of Concrete and Sadness.
“People are staring,” Harper says out of the corner of her mouth.
My chest is heaving, and I notice curious onlookers popping their heads out of open stores and peeking through windows of the ones still closed.
“Let them look.” I mutter, but my voice is way down, and I drop my eyes to the sidewalk. Great, now the whole town gets to witness me losing my mind over a man who smells like wealth and bad decisions. “I don’t give a damn who hears what anymore.” Let them take notes. Maybe they’ll learn something.
“You care whether they see you as a solid member of our community, don’t you?
” Harper’s always been good at keeping me level-headed and now is another time she does it.
“If everyone sees you acting like… like this whole Stirling Tech thing is making you crazy, then they might not have so much faith in following your lead. You want them to listen to you, Chloe. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? ”