Chapter 6 #2
My eyes narrow in return, meeting his stare, and his gaze mirrors mine. But his eyes don't stay locked on me. And I kind of want them to.
Every few seconds, he glances at the space opposite me. The trance Jack’s put me into breaks when Chad clears his throat.
I realize Chad is the one Jack keeps looking at, his frown deepening for a split second before his eyes bounce my way again.
The server places my food on the low table, and I mumble a thank you after reluctantly dragging my eyes away from Jack. Chad takes a sip from his second drink, smiling like some benevolent watchdog.
Now two men are observing me while I pick up my bowl of bolognese. I’m being watched while I eat.
The thing is, I’m used to being ignored, so all this attention has me wondering if I’ve stumbled into an alternate universe. I know I’m not hideous. But I’m also not ‘stop what you’re doing’ gorgeous, and certainly not beautiful enough to warrant the hyper focus of two different men.
Chad is certainly attractive enough that he shouldn’t be this desperate for my company.
From the way our server just simpered over him as she set down his drink, he’s not lacking female attention in general.
Meanwhile, Jack looks like he’d love to handcuff me to a desk, but only long enough to point a blinding light at my face and grill me.
Turning my thoughts away from the hot bad cop, I force myself to take a bite of food, pleasantly surprised at the taste.
I’m just going to finish this delicious meal—thanks, Mom—because it is, in fact, good enough to bring me back on its own.
I’ll simply write this evening off as a glitch in the system.
I can ignore these tingly feelings, the apprehension making my arm hairs stand up, because I will not quit, no matter what kind of lousy pickup line Chad aims my way or how much my stomach flutters under the gaze of Strider over there.
I rub my hands down my forearms, reminding myself that I can do this.
“It’s good, huh?” Chad gestures to my bowl.
“I actually can’t taste anything. Side effect of the rash medication.”
He shakes his head with a smile that’s beginning to annoy me. Surely the man has better things to do than stare at someone who isn’t interested.
But he and my mother were both right—this bolognese is way too good to stop and explain that I’d prefer to eat alone, so I do my best to tune him out while he jabbers on about things I don’t find the least bit interesting or appealing.
Sorry, not sorry, but I don’t care how many times he’s gone bungee jumping.
It’s a pity that the culinary genius of my meal has been tainted, and I’m beginning to feel a little less comfortable with Chad’s lack of ability to read my leave-me-alone signals.
Chad draws my attention back to himself with a cocky laugh. “So…I could help with that rash cream…”
Without thinking, my eyes bounce back to the spot where Jack was sitting, like seeing him will settle my nerves and irritation. But he’s gone, to my disappointment.
I turn to give Chad a polite but firm goodbye when Jack reappears and sits down beside me, close enough for his intoxicating leather and pine scent to envelop me as he drapes an arm behind my shoulder. Not touching, just there, in a strangely comforting way.
Jack doesn’t speak, only glares at Chad while his left boot lifts to rest on his other knee. It’s a combination of casual and lethal that heats my cheeks.
Chad narrows his eyes at Jack before plastering that slimy smile back onto his face. “Wanna grab that drink, Willow?” Chad asks like we made plans for this earlier, and I barely stifle a frustrated growl at his lack of self-awareness.
“Can’t. I have an irrational fear of liquids.”
Again with that smile and the laugh. I stand, unable to take another second of him, and Jack follows me when I turn to walk off.
I’m not sure if Chad is behind us, but I’m weirdly grateful for Jack’s silent presence.
I pay my bill up front while Jack waits nearby, and he holds the door open for me when we near the exit.
But I catch a slight narrowing of his eyes as he glares back at Chad, who was apparently waiting at our heels.
“Thanks, my man,” Chad offers, grinning at Jack. “But you probably shouldn’t get too close. The lady has a contagious rash. I probably have it, too.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t let you get close enough to catch it.”
“You two know each other?” Jack questions, his frown somehow growing deeper. There’s an underlying tone of accusation in his question, but he’s giving off major protective vibes. I don’t hate it.
“We’re friends.” Chad beams.
“Nope. We just met.” I say at the same time, tilting my head at Chad as if to ask, ‘What the hell, dude?’
Jack’s gaze bounces between us before settling on me. “Is he bothering you?”
Swoon.
I’m suddenly a sucker for an overprotective man.
And while this one carries an aura of safety that I’m currently craving, there’s still that determined look in his eyes, like he suspects me of something or might delay my trip by insisting I be questioned for whatever nefarious things he’s associated me with.
But nothing can stop me from beginning this hike tomorrow, not even the brooding Aragorn doppelganger before me.
“Nope. He’s just bored,” I lie. Chad was bothering me and Jack knows it.
But as I said, I have a plan to stick to.
“Goodbye, gentleman. This has been very awkward.” I bow and slip out from under Jack’s arm.
A very nice arm, by the way. My hand once again blocks the view on the route back to the row of lodges.
Then, just to make sure I’m not being followed, I pause to hide behind a large shrub before walking into the wrong lodge and wasting five minutes making small talk with the chatty receptionist. After that, stealthy maneuvers lead me back to my room.
I don’t know what’s in the water here, but this weirdness had better end before the morning. I can’t handle any more crazy distractions while trying not to die over the next few days.
Finally safe behind the locked door (with a chair propped underneath the doorknob) I shower, trying not to overthink everything that happened in the past two hours.
Steam billows out of the bathroom as I wrap myself within a plain, white towel that feels slightly scratchy against my skin.
My phone vibrates across the bedside table, and I groan as Mom’s face lights up my screen.
My shoulders tense before answering. A pep talk would be amazing right now, but I think she and Dad must have used all of those up on Juliet by now.
They always seem to end up giving me not-so-constructive feedback or subtly insisting I just try harder.
“Hey, Mom,” I answer on a sigh.
“Oh, good, you’re still awake. Did you have the bolognese? What’d I tell you? Incredible, isn’t it?”
“Eh, it was a little dry.”
“Willow Kennedy!” she gasps, and I can hear her footsteps falter.
“I’m kidding. It was great.” The company not so much.
“Good. You feeling ready for tomorrow? I’m so proud of you for finally doing something like this! You sure I can’t tell Dad yet? He’ll be so happy.” A sputtering noise filters through the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m bathing Kuroki. So, can I tell your father?”
“What? No, Mom. I need to do this without the pressure of everyone thinking I won’t finish. Just give me some time, okay?”
The spritzing stops. “It’s just…you’re not always very…endurant. And that’s okay. I just want you to be safe. Are you sure you can do this? It’s a big step, jumping into a major hike like this.”
I roll my eyes. “Wow, Mom, they should get you to rally the troops before war.”
Her sigh is loud through the speaker as the spritzing starts again. “You know what I mean, Willow. You don’t have to get snippy. I’m just concerned.”
A desperate need to be done with this conversation tightens my chest.
“Thanks. I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you in a few days, okay?”
“All right. Stay safe, honey. I’m glad you have a break from school so you can try this. Call me on the other end,” she intones before we hang up.
The mattress bounces as I flop myself back onto the bed to stare at the bland ceiling. But my mom’s skepticism only fuels me.
I’ll show her and Dad and the rest of my family that I can do this.