My alarm goes off at 11:45 with an irritating tune. No matter how hard I look, I’ve yet to find one that both wakes me up and is pleasing to the ear. Anyway, I’m awake now. There’s no moon, so it’s really dark outside when I peel back the corner of the blind to check. There’s a single light on in the back cottage, so I guess that means Aiden is still planning on talking. Not like I thought he’d change his mind.
I grab an old sweatshirt of Dad’s that I keep in a drawer for just these sorts of occasions. Not the angry grilling by hot older men, but late nights sitting in the garden. There was a lot of that after my mom died. Nights when the house seemed suffocating, but getting outside helped… a little.
There’s no point in turning on lights, I know how to sneak out of the house without Dad knowing. I have to avoid the squeaky third step, but that’s about it. It might be harder if he believed in security systems. I slip out the sliding patio door, closing it most of the way behind me. A small gap makes it easier to open on the return trip.
I wonder how long this inquisition is going to take? There’s not really that much to my side of the story.
The garden is eerie at this time of night, there’s enough light from the surrounding street lights and houses to make the stone path barely visible. The white flowers sort of glow in the murk and the sweet heavy odor of jasmine is everywhere. There’s an old wooden bench under the orange tree at the back. I’m pretty sure that’s what Aiden was referring to.
And I was right because he’s already lounging there, angled into the corner, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He’s positioned so his face is in the shadows. Why do I think that was intentional?
“Hi,” I say softly, stepping over his legs.
He draws them in slightly. “Rose. Take a seat.”
I roll my eyes even if he can’t see me. We’re not in a freakin’ office, for fuck’s sake. I sigh as I sit down and draw my knees up under the sweatshirt. “So what do you want to know?” I’m braced for the embarrassment of revealing the depth of my crush to the one person who can tell me how pointless it is, with surgical precision. But I don’t see the need to volunteer more than he wants to hear.
“Everything,” he responds dryly. “But let’s start with how I came to star in my friend Darla’s first novel.”
“You never struck me as a romance-reader type.”
“I’m not. Stop trying to change the subject.” His tone is dry, laced with amusement. Fuck.
“Right, well. It all started with a creative writing class. The professor was really mean. There was an assignment to write an essay about our first broken heart. But I’d never had a boyfriend or even been in love.” God, I sound like such a loser, whining about my love life. I’m staring into the darkness, wondering if there’s even a chance of a sinkhole opening up to save me from the worst of the embarrassment or at least put me out of my misery.
“Go on.” Aiden is not going to let me off lightly. I hadn’t really expected less of the Commander.
“So I dragged out my old diaries and wrote about a crush. I, um, embellished a lot. The professor read it aloud and basically called me a liar and a bad writer. Told me I should drop the class and sign up for economics.”
Aiden says nothing. Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe if I confess all my sins this can be over and done with? “Anyway, I dropped the class, but not before I made a new friend who understood and was… well, she has her own story. Anyway, I kept adding to the plot for our own amusement until eventually, I had something book-length. I didn’t write it with the intention to publish it. But my friend had a friend whose mom was an indie author. So we got this not-so-bright idea that we could package it up and maybe make enough money to you know, go to the movies, or get dinner out on Friday nights.”
“And it didn’t occur to you what you’d actually said in the damn thing?”
“Yes, and no.” I sigh with regret. “I didn’t know that some of the details were identifiable. It was only after people started leaving comments that I found out nobody else has that tattoo. Or at least it’s unusual enough to be um…”
“Quite. Back up for a second and tell me how you even know about it. Because I’m pretty sure I’ve never paraded around here naked.”
“Um, no. No, you haven’t. But you tend to leave the windows open and the blinds up and well… my bedroom window looks down and um…”
“Fuck!” He keeps the volume low, but the leashed anger frightens me. I hug my knees tighter against my chest.
“What do you want from me?” I ask as calmly as I can, but cringing inside. “I changed the book as soon as I figured out there was a problem. There were only two print copies that I couldn’t do anything about. A public apology would only make it worse.”
“But you’ve kept using me, haven’t you?”
“Um, well, only as inspiration. I swear I haven’t invaded your privacy since I left for school.”
“Really? You don’t think writing characters that are clearly based on me isn’t invasive?”
“But they aren’t. They’re based on an idea of you but not the real you.”
“You’ve got that right.” He’s muttering, and I don’t think he’s in full agreement with my argument. “It has to stop, Rose. Now.”
“I know. I’m switching everything up with this next book.”
“I want to see it.”
“Okay, but I haven’t written it yet. I’m going to go up to Dad’s cabin and get it done.”
He snorts in disbelief. “I’m headed up to the cabin tomorrow. What exactly have you been planning?”
“Writing. For fuck’s sake, Aiden. Did you think I was headed there to seduce you? Or spy on you? I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t actually talk to Dad about it yet. I thought we’d catch up for a day or two and then I’d head up for the rest of the month.”
“Maybe it’s a good idea. I can keep an eye on you. I don’t think I’m done talking about this just yet. And I’m not sure if it’s in your best interest to let you off scot-free. I need to think about it.”
Fuck. I do not need an angry Navy officer hanging over my head right now. Never, really, but especially not right now.
He groans suddenly, “And don’t tell your dad you’re going to the cabin. He’s got enough to worry about. Tell him you’re off to visit a friend at the beach and I’ll expect you up there in two days. Got it?”
“What does Dad have to worry about?”
“Rose.”
“Fine, I’ll be at the cabin in two days. Why won’t you tell me about Dad?”
“Maybe because I don’t go blabbing other people’s business?” Sarcasm is not his best feature. “Go to bed, Rose. We’ll continue this conversation when you arrive there.”
I’ve never been one to avoid a difficult conversation. But I let Rose circle the elephant in the room, and I didn’t even try to push her on it. What the fuck?
And now I’m watching her slim form drift back towards the house. Even in the oversized sweatshirt, she’s dainty compared to me. I’m not ready for bed yet. My mind is busy turning over why I didn’t ask her if she still had a crush on me.
Maybe I didn’t ask because it was completely inappropriate, or maybe it was because I didn’t want to hear the answer like an adolescent boy asking a girl if she likes him. Because really, whether the answer is yes or no, what am I going to do about it? Absolutely nothing.
I smile without humor, wondering if Rose is going to turn on a light inside. I’m curious to see exactly how far into the tiny cottage she could see, and whether I can tell from here. But her window remains dark and eventually, I head back inside, dreading what I’ve just brought on myself.
In the morning I have a simple breakfast with Tris. I’m not shocked that Rose doesn’t make an appearance. There’s no sign of masochism in any of her books. I hate keeping secrets from my buddy, but I can’t see how knowing any of this would make his life better or simpler.
He gets up and comes back with a set of keys, “You remember how to get there?”
“No,” I grin, “but I remember the address and Google gave me adequate directions.”
“If you’re sure. Call me if you hit a snag and let me know if there are any repairs needed. I haven’t been up in a while. Seems lonely without Monica or Rose.”
“Sure thing.” I won’t do it. I’ll check for issues, but I’ll fix them myself or get someone else in while I’m there. Tris is doing me a favor and not charging any rent. This is the least I can do.
“Do you think Rose looked alright?” Tristan asks quietly.
“Yeah, I guess? Why?”
“I’m not sure. She seemed a little anxious. And then there’s this whole five-year college thing, but she still hasn’t told me what her career plans are. I guess I’m a little worried about her — not that she has to be out working an office job this week, but if she’s feeling lost because her mom’s not here…”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Tris. If she’s still lying around on her ass at the end of the summer call me and I’ll shout at her like a new recruit. Makes them jump every time.”
He grins, “Deal. You’re right, I shouldn’t worry. Rose has never been lazy.”
“Alright, I’d better hit the road. You’d better plan to come visit me up north when I get settled.”
Tris nods agreeably and I head out to my truck. I already brought my bag around before breakfast. I eye Rose’s ancient little car, wondering how she’ll ever make it up the mountain in that thing. Or will she blow me off and run off to the beach? Am I hoping she will?