Chapter Three

 

Elle

 

 

 

I plop down on the bed, legs and arms sprawled out. I’ll figure out a plan to get my life back on track tomorrow, but today I just want to do nothing and think about nothing. Especially not the past two weeks.

Moving to Paris was supposed to be my big break. I had dreamed of eating croissants in the morning, with the mesmerizing sounds of the city in the background. I had even been foolish enough to think I’d marry Paul one day and move to the south of France with him. In my fantasies, we would drink wine every evening while looking at the sunset from the wooden chairs in our backyard, where I would plant lavender and wisteria. Ugh. He sure pulled the rug from under my feet when he left me and ran away with every cent I had to my name. I hadn’t found the courage to tell Maggie about that yet. As far as she was concerned, my relationship with Paul had gone wrong and I didn’t want to stay in a foreign country without any family or friends. The truth is that I had literally been out on the French streets. I even spent one night in a stinky bus station. At the thought of that night, I shiver.

A knock on the door forces me to sit upright again, something that takes all of my willpower. Up until now, I didn’t realize how exhausted I am. All I want to do is sleep for days.

“Settling in okay?” Maggie asks while plopping down next to me.

I nod. “Are you sure you don’t mind me spending a few nights here? I swear I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I land a job and save enough to pay a security deposit for a rental studio.”

“Nonsense, you can stay as long as you want to. Best friends don’t let each other sleep on the beach. Or in a dank studio apartment.”

I give her hand a friendly squeeze. “Thank you, Maggie. Honestly, if it weren’t for you, I’d be sleeping under the Eiffel Tower now. I swear I will pay you back the money you wired me for the plane ticket. My brother Caleb might be able to help me financially as well. I’m going to give him a call soon and see what he can do for me.”

“Elle, we talked about this. I don’t need you to repay me.”

“I will, though,” I say with a yawn. “Sorry, I’m exhausted.”

She gets up. “You should sleep, but promise me we’ll catch up tomorrow, okay? We can make it a girls’ day.”

“What about tonight?”

“Can’t, sorry. I have a date. I’m hoping this time it’ll be with someone who’s right for me.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Fingers crossed he’s not like that guy who brought his mother to your date.”

“Oh man, that was the worst,” she says with a laugh. “And the way his mother was constantly telling him to sit upright and make sure his elbows weren’t touching the table.” She shudders. “I’m sure this time it’ll be different. The guy I’m seeing works as a sailing instructor.”

“Ahoy,” I say before falling back on the bed again. “We’ll make it a fun day tomorrow, just us girls.”

“Sleep tight.”

I lift my hand to wave at her and doze off before I can even hear the door close.

 

***

 

I’m not sure what kind of sound wakes me up, but my heart is going a hundred miles an hour. I jolt upright in my bed and try to make sense of my surroundings. For a couple of moments, I’m disoriented, trying to figure out where I am. In the distance, I can hear the waves crashing against the beach. Paris doesn’t have beaches. What’s happening?

It takes me a few seconds before I realize I’m at Maggie’s. I reach for my phone. Nine thirty. Outside, the sun is setting. Have I slept the entire day?

The house is silent, though. Maybe the sounds that woke me weren’t real and I have only dreamed them up. I turn my body to the side, but then I hear grunting. Faint, but real. It’s coming from below me.

I don’t know what to do. Should I go and check what—or who—is causing the noise? It’s probably Maggie, who’s arrived home early after another disastrous date. The poor thing. If she’s crying or angrily grunting at her pillow, I should be there to comfort her.

Just in case it’s not her at all, I grab a coat hanger from the closet. If there’s a creep in the house, I’ll hit him in the crown jewels with it. Heck, I’ll even maim his face if I have to. I’m positive a judge will understand it was nothing but self-defense.

I slip out of the room and walk around like a fool for an entire five minutes. Where are these sounds coming from? I already checked the entire house. Twice. I’m contemplating signing up for a mental check-up when I see a hatch door in the floor of a small alcove near the entrance. I crouch down and put my ear against it. Soft rock music travels upward. Surely a crook wouldn’t break into someone’s house to listen to rock music? The grunts sound louder now, and they’re accompanied by punches, almost as if someone’s being beat up. The rock music is probably meant to drown out those noises.

Before dialing 911, I decide to take a peek and assess the situation. I already made a fool of myself once today, so before impulsively calling the cops, I should at least be certain about what’s happening.

I grab the metal handle and gently pull the hatch door open. I lower myself flat on my belly to get a good look, but all I can see are the stairs leading further down.

I slide down a bit, my hands placed on the stairs so I don’t tumble down all the way. I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. A guy is hitting a punch bag, with eighties rock music blaring through a set of speakers. His broad, naked back is all I can see, and I’m mesmerized by his muscles that tighten every time he hits the bag.

If I could get a little bit further down the stairs, just a smidge, I might actually see the back of his head as well. I lift my hand and extend my arm to place it a tad further, but unlike the guy punching the bag, my arms aren’t made of pure muscle and they can’t hold the weight of my body.

Before I can right the situation, I slide down the stairs. There’s nothing I can do except brace myself for impact. Thank goodness I’m heading straight for a black beanbag. That should cushion the blow.

Tears fill my eyes when I hit the bottom of the stairs. My sight is blurry, but I can still make out the silhouette of the guy. He’s crouched down beside me, and I instinctively point the coat hanger at him.

“Wow, relax, Elle,” he says.

I blink a couple of times and that’s when I realize the punching guy is Colton. My eyes flit around the room, trying to find a hole I can disappear into.

He extends his hand and pulls me up. “Are you okay?”

“Mmmm.”

He leads me to his bed and tells me to sit down. He then gently touches my face, his fingers merely brushing my skin. “There’s a small bruise on your forehead, but that seems to be it.”

I rub my head. It hurts like hell.

He grins at me. “To what do I owe this slightly unconventional visit?”

“I, uhm, well…” Get it together, Elle. Don’t let this be a repeat of the airport scenario. “I heard some noises and thought it would be wise to check them out. Maggie is out, so I thought it might be a burglar.”

“Didn’t Maggie tell you I live here too?”

I swallow. Colton actually lives here? “I’m afraid she withheld that crucial piece of information from me.” Gosh, why do I sound like some fancy businesswoman on trial? “Are you one of them?” I ask.

“People who have a bedroom?” he asks with a frown.

I put my hand on my hip. “A doomsday prepper. You know, because this is a basement space. Below the ground and all.”

“Of course I’m one of them,” he says. His grin tells me he’s lying, though.

“Good to know.”

“What were you planning on doing with that?” He points at the coat hanger. “Making sure my clothes were all neat and tidy in the closet instead of on the floor?”

“No. I was going to maim your face,” I say, heat flushing my cheeks. “Or hit you in the crown jewels.”

“You were going to hit me in the crown jewels with a coat hanger?” He laughs. The sound is irresistible. It’s so good that I could listen to it all night long. His eyes catch mine, and my entire body tingles.

I can’t help but laugh as well. “Not you personally. The crook I thought was beating up someone in here.”

“It’s just me in here. Me and my trusty punch bag.”

I look around the room. It’s small, maybe one hundred square feet total, but it’s homey. The walls are colored white except for one accent wall that’s been doused in petrol-blue paint. A bed is against one of the bedroom walls, with a dresser at the foot of it. A big speaker is under the wooden desk, still blasting eighties rock music. The desk itself is decorated sparsely, but the wall behind it is adorned with black-and-white photographs. Colton’s room is neat and tidy, nothing like I’d expect from a man. Or maybe I’ve only gone out with the wrong kind of men, and this is how real men decorate. Who knows?

My mind circles back to the bedroom I’m currently sleeping in. It has a fantastic view of the beach, with lots of natural sunlight pouring in. Why would Colton willingly stay in the basement instead of my room? Not even these nice decorations can make up for the fact that there’s hardly any natural light in here.

“Why are you staying here?” I dare to ask. “Why not take the bedroom upstairs?”

He shrugs. “Too many bad memories. Besides, in here, I get to stay out of sight. Believe me when I say I don’t want to be around when Maggie has a night with her colleagues or friends. Those girls just keep chatting and chatting and chatting. Honestly, I don’t even understand why. They talk daily, what more can they have to say to each other?”

I chuckle. “Maggie’s out now, so maybe we could go to the kitchen and have a soda? Unless you need to finish your workout,” I add.

“Nah, that’s okay. Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll be there.”

I get up and make my way to the stairs.

“Oh, and Elle?”

I turn around. “Yes?”

He grins. “Next time, just walk down the stairs instead of using them as a slide. You’ll end up with far fewer injuries.”

I love how he’s already talking about a next time. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Before heading for the kitchen, I make a quick detour to my room. I brush my hair and apply some mascara. I don’t want Colton to know I sometimes look like a scarecrow. I mean, sure, he just saw me, but the light wasn’t too bright down there.

I grab a couple of sodas from the fridge and wait for him to appear. I can hear the water running in the bathroom. I close my eyes and imagine his muscled back getting all wet. I wonder if he soaps himself up from head to toe, and decide that yes, he does. It’s my fantasy after all.

I’m so caught up in my daydream that I don’t realize the shower has been turned off. Colton appears next to me, and I startle.

“You scare easily, don’t you?” he asks with an amused look on his face.

I’m all flustered and hope he doesn’t notice.

He plops down in the chair opposite me, cracking a can of soda open. “So, Elle, what are your plans while you’re here?”

“My priority is looking for a job. But as you might know, there isn’t an abundance of those in Summerville Creek.”

He nods. “Yeah, I know. I’m happy with the one I’ve got, but I also know it’s temporary.”

“Not a fixed contract?” I ask.

“Kind of me not wanting a fixed contract,” he says. “I’m set on leaving this place, but Maggie isn’t keen on that to say the least. She tries to set me up with everyone she meets in the hopes of me sticking around after all.”

“That makes sense. It might not be the best way to go about it, but I understand she doesn’t want you to leave. She’s probably scared of living alone.”

His eyes lock with mine. “Now that you’re here, I’m not that worried anymore. At least she won’t be alone once I’m gone.”

He clears his throat in what seems like an attempt to change the subject. I’d love to press the issue further and find out why he’s so set on leaving, but I don’t. If it were the other way around, I wouldn’t want him to keep asking questions either.

“You know,” he starts, “I heard some talk about a job opening at The Magic Wonderland. Why don’t you ride to work with me tomorrow and ask Frank? He’s the one in charge.”

Working at the amusement park does sound like a ton of fun. I’d get to meet cheerful vacation-goers every day, maybe go on a ride in between breaks, and work alongside Colton… I might even get a job as one of the entertainers. A princess or something! I can hardly believe how fast my luck is turning in the right direction. Before arriving, I thought I’d have to look for a job for weeks on end.

“That would be great,” I say. “Thank you.”

“No worries. Oh, you will have to get back onto my beast of a bike to get there. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

I’m scared to death to whiz around town on his motorcycle, but I’d never admit that to him. “Bring it on.”