Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Dear Journal (NOT a fucking diary!),
My therapist, Dr. P, told me to write in here on a daily basis. She says it’s supposed to help me process all the shit I’ve been through, get me to focus on gratitude in the present, bring up some hope for the future.
So I tried all that processing the past, and it didn’t fucking work. I did enough of that during the criminal investigation, and I don’t want to have to do it ever fucking again. Guess that means this is gonna be all about the present and future.
So what the hell am I grateful for? Being alive, I suppose. I survived. That makes me a pretty lucky son of a bitch in the grand scheme of things. Some folks I knew on the streets didn’t.
I’m also getting a fresh start in Mystic Hollow. Even though I haven’t been here long, this town’s got a kind of healing magic to it, cheesy as that might sound. Even better, I feel safe here. Everyone I’ve met has been so kind that I still struggle to trust it’s real.
Despite all the negative shit that likes to creep into my mind, I’m settling in okay.
I finally caved and agreed to stay at Hal’s B&B.
The library was okay for a couple of nights, but I really needed a place where I could shower and get a hot meal.
Astraea was the one who convinced me to ditch my stupid pride in the end.
Who am I to try and argue with a dragon goddess who also happens to be a mom?
I don’t think she’s lost many arguments, especially when she goes into dragon-goddess-mama mode.
The B&B is seriously fucking cute and cozy, and I’m glad I moved in.
My angsty, emo teenage self would have hated it.
But at this point in my life, it’s exactly what I need.
A lot of that has to do with the owner. Hal’s made this place comfortable and homey with his crocheted blankets in every room and home-cooked meals every day.
It’s something I’ve never experienced before.
And for now, the future does seem brighter, especially since my salon’s becoming a reality and not just staying some impossible pipe dream. I only hope the universe doesn’t decide to yank the rug out from under me at any second.
—Skylar Wright’s Personal Journal
Mid-October…
Skylar
“How are you settling in, darling?”
I glance over the rim of my coffee cup at my benefactor and big-time savior, Astraea. If someone had told me just three months ago that I’d be hanging around with an honest-to-god dragon goddess, I would have laughed in their face, but here I am. My life is fucking amazing.
Today, she’s dressed in a purple bodycon dress made from some sort of faux leather material and her hair, which I helped her style, is parted to the side and woven into an elaborate braid that she had me thread with strands of what I’m starting to think are real fucking jewels.
They sparkle in the morning sunlight that’s streaming into the B&B’s kitchen breakfast nook.
“Great,” I tell her. “This B&B is the most comfortable place I’ve ever lived. I’m super grateful to you and Hal for helping me stay here while I’m getting my salon up and running. I promise I’ll pay you back once I’m financially afloat again.”
I moved in a few weeks ago with Astraea’s financial help and I’m settling in well. It’s taking time to get the salon remodeled and outfitted the way I want, but once I open near the end of the month I should start making money to pay my own way.
Astraea waves a hand dismissively. “As a dragon goddess, I have more wealth than I know what do with.” She gestures to her braid. “Keep acting as my personal stylist and working wonders on my hair and we’ll call it even.”
Hal appears at my side, and I experience that weird, squirmy feeling in my stomach that’s been there since the moment I saved him from a disastrous shampoo selection.
It’s only intensified since I started living under the same roof with him.
But I push down the sensation, doing my best to ignore it.
Right now, I only want to focus on making my salon dreams come true. I don’t need any complications.
Hal’s large, hairy hand carefully sets down a plate in front of me that’s loaded with bacon and eggs, as well as toast made from freshly baked bread and slathered with plenty of butter. Next to that, he places a small bowl with yogurt, fresh berries, and homemade granola.
Every day is like this. Seriously, I’ve never been fed so well in my life.
I look up at him from where I’m sitting, which means I have to look way up.
I’m not a short man by human standards, sort of average at five foot eleven, but I’m puny in comparison to Hal.
The gentle sasquatch stands close to seven feet tall, if not taller.
His freaking enormous size should intimidate me, but it doesn’t for some reason.
There’s something calm and reassuring about Hal.
He offers me a warm smile that reactivates that sensation in my stomach.
Get a grip, Skylar!
“Thanks,” I manage to rasp out before turning my attention back to my cup of coffee.
“Everyone needs a good, balanced breakfast to start the day,” Hal replies cheerily, setting down Astraea’s food next, then shuffles back to the stove to fix up his own plate now that we’ve been served.
I dart quick glances at him as he putters around.
I don’t know him well yet, but Hal’s a pretty fascinating guy.
He did me a solid by hooking me up with a study room to sleep in at the library when I first arrived in town.
That didn’t last more than three nights before Astraea marched me down to the B&B and told me I was moving in immediately.
I wasn’t foolish enough to try and argue with a dragon goddess.
Also, I’ve realized pride is a luxury I can’t afford right now.
Hal was super welcoming the second I arrived. Guy’s too sweet and caring for his own good. He seems happiest when he’s feeding us and tending his garden or cleaning his home. An ultra domestic sasquatch, who’da thunk?
I smile inwardly. Honestly, it’s kind of fun to watch him when he’s in his element.
Right now, he’s humming what sounds like The Cure’s “Friday, I’m in Love” to himself as he fills his own plate at the stove.
Today he’s wearing the apron that says Sasquatches Do It Better—he’s got a whole collection of the things—and the long brown hair on his head is half pulled back in a loose ponytail.
He looks adorable, but I keep that to myself.
Once he sits across from me at the table, I concentrate on my food. I’m not great at making small talk. While I eat, he converses quietly with Astraea, and they seem to be discussing the upcoming festival in town.
Before coming to Mystic Hollow, I’d met very few decent folks who wanted to give me a hand, let alone a sasquatch and a dragon goddess who seem too good to be true and, for whatever reason, like having me around.
In fact, everyone I’ve met in Mystic Hollow has welcomed me with warm and open hearts.
The town’s residents appear happy to have me here, and quite a few have stopped me when I’m working to set up the salon to tell me how much they are looking forward to when I open.
Legit, I’ve never felt so wanted and appreciated in my damn life.
My kindhearted host has also shown me more genuine care and concern than any human I’ve ever known. It’s been real nice but also fucking confusing. I made a massive mistake before, thinking someone actually cared for me, only to realize I was being manipulated for Damien’s own benefit.
Fucker.
Thankfully, Hal’s given me my space since I moved in.
He’s not forcing a friendship and he isn’t trying to dig into my past either.
Instead, I’ve been able to take my time to adjust to my new situation over the last few weeks.
Hal isn’t intrusive, but he’s also always available and ready to lend me a hand anytime I need it.
With every interaction we have, I relax a little more and start to believe I can trust him.
I wolf down my scrambled eggs cooked to perfection and savor the bacon, using the toasted homemade bread as a chaser.
Even I’m surprised I still have room to eat the yogurt and granola too.
It’s become clear to me that I’d lost a lot of weight in the past year.
Partly, I found I had no appetite some days.
But now that seems to have passed. It certainly helps that Hal’s a fantastic cook.
A guy could really get used to this kind of treatment.
I know I can’t stay at the B&B forever, though, so I’m trying not to take any of Hal’s generosity for granted.
It also didn’t take me long to figure out the gentle giant is a complete romantic at heart.
Most of the bookshelves all over the house are lined with romance novels, many of them from the town’s own celebrity author, Ryder St. James, who was a resident at the B&B before I moved in and turns out to be Hal’s best friend.
Now it’s just me and Astraea staying here, which is fine with me. I’m not big on crowds much.
It’s hard for me to understand how he’s single. It’s obvious Hal would love to have a partner from the way he looks at Ryder and Vash when they video chat, and I’d say he’s a real catch. A gentle, caring guy is better than a toxic wannabe alpha male any day.
I shudder as my ex’s face pops into my head like the unsolicited dick pic it truly is.
Damien was bad-boy handsome, that’s for sure, but he was also a cocky asshole with a dark side I didn’t find out about until I was in way too deep. In the end, his looks didn’t make up for the rotten personality and cruel behavior.
Fuckin’ quit that shit, brain! He doesn’t deserve to take up space in my life anymore.
Hal finishes his food and leans back in his chair. The furniture in the house is oversized to accommodate him and similar Otherkind guests whose bodies are on the larger side, which makes total sense, but sometimes it makes me feel a bit like Goldilocks in a house with only Papa Bear’s furniture.