Page 23 of A Thousand Second Chances

My gaze wanders over the room, my eyes settling on a guy sitting alone in one of the booths. He’s cute—about my age with a thicker, more muscular build and close-cropped blond hair. He notices me watching him, and the alcohol gives me enough courage to not look away. The guy’s lips curl into a smile, and he raises his eyebrows, the invitation clear.

I stare at his chiseled jaw and lick my lips. It would be so easy to stride over and slip into the booth beside him. The next few hours play out before my eyes. We’d make small talk, his fingers brushing over my thigh. Then, once things got heated enough, I’d grab his hand and drag him back to the Royal Lilac. I’d probably be breaking at least one school rule, but who the fuck cares? Even if it’s not the true intimacy I crave, at least I’d be able to forget everything for a few blissful hours wrapped up in somebody else’s arms.

I’m about to do it, this close to standing up to walk over there, when my mind helpfully tries to supply an image of us in bed. Only, it’s not the muscular hunk I see sprawled there but Percy. His messy brown hair is slicked back with sweat, his pale skin glistening over his lithe frame as he bites his lip and stares at me with a combination of love and lust that cracks my chest wide open. It’s a sight I’ve seen before—one that used to be my norm back when we still told ourselves we’d always be together. When I still believed that kind of blissful future was possible.

I shove the unwelcome fantasy aside and try to live in the moment—I really do. But now that the seed’s been planted, I can’t unsee it. The stranger’s eyes are a similar shade of blue to Percy’s, and his bulging muscles conjure images of Percy on the bike from earlier, his thighs straining in his skin-tight athletic gear as he pumped the pedals.

My potential hook-up’s brow furrows, his expression shifting from interest to confusion, and I blink.Shit, how long have I been standing here, staring at him?Too long, judging by the look he’s giving me. Growling in frustration, I toss a tip on the bar and turn my back on the guy, slinking out onto the street.

What the hell is wrong with me? How can I both want someone and want nothing to do with them at the same time?

Seeing Percy again has gotten all sorts of wires in my brain crossed. My life might not have been perfect before this trip, but it had been fine. I’d had Quinn and my writing and my occasional hook-ups. Better than how I feel now—like I’m trapped in an eternal free-fall with no idea what will happen when I finally collide with the bottom.

The alcohol buffers me against the chill autumn air, and I’m still too restless to return to the Royal Lilac, so I set a lazy pace down Main Street, admiring the glimpses of Lake Huron I catch past the buildings on my left. Moonlight reflects off the water, lending it a faintly ethereal quality, while the distant lights of civilization suffuse the air with a warm glow. I perk up when I catch a passing couple chattering about the Northern Lights, but when I scan the sky above, I don’t see anything. If they’d been out tonight, I must have missed them.

Disappointment curdles my stomach. Logically, I know missing the spectacle wouldn’t mean anything other than poor timing. But somehow, I can’t shake this sense that it’s some grander sign of my failure to find my proper place in the world. Like even the universe itself is conspiring against me.Somuch for alcohol relaxing me.My eyes trail absently over the shoreline as I quicken my pace and approach the Royal Lilac.

For a moment, I think I catch a glimpse of a figure further down the beach, gazing out across the lake much as I had been. Then I blink, and the figure is gone—if it had ever been there at all. At this point, I wouldn’t rule out my dumb brain hallucinating Percy around every corner.

A single lamp shines in the Royal Lilac’s entryway, providing enough light for me to make out the staircase as I quietly close the door behind me. I start toward the stairs, looking forward to collapsing into bed, when I realize I’m not alone.

Ms. Lindman sits before a low fire that’s burned down almost to embers. The bright screen of her Kindle illuminates her face as she glances up at me. I hadn’t noticed before with her chipper attitude, but her face appears haggard, like she hasn’t been getting enough sleep. Something like hope flickers across her face as her eyes fasten on me, then quickly dims, replaced by a heavy weariness. I can’t help but feel a sting at that—like my presence alone dampened her evening.

Her face creases into a strained smile. “Hi, there! Chris, right?”

I nod. “Good memory.”

She chuckles and taps a finger against the side of her head. “Always did have a mind for the little things. Helps when you’re all by your lonesome and have a thousand tasks to track.”

I hadn’t realized until she brought it up, but now that I think about it, I haven’t seen any other staff besides her and her son. “That must be tough. How did you end up running a place like this anyway? Was it something you always wanted to do?”

“Heavens, no,” she chuckles. “It was Lizzie that pushed me into it, really. Mrs. Wentworth,” she adds, seeing my confusion. “Your classmate Percy’s mother. We both fell in love with Mackinac Island as girls and used to joke about how we neverwanted to leave. When my grandfather died while we were in college, we came here to get away. We were out walking one day when we saw the For Sale sign here and got to talking with the owner. The house itself was a wreck back then, but the property was gorgeous, and standing there, looking at it, it was like I couldseewhat it would become.”

I sidle closer to the sitting room, intrigued despite myself. “So, you bought it?”

She grins. “I did. My grandfather left me a rather hefty inheritance, but even that wouldn’t have been enough—property on Mackinac Island isn’t cheap, especially this close to the water. But the owner didn’t want to sell to just anyone. He loathed the thought of some big company getting their hands on his home and wanted someone who’d preserve and cherish this place as much as he had. And, well, to make a long story short, he chose us, even if he could’ve gotten triple what we paid him from someone else. This place has been my home ever since.”

“So, that’s how you know Percy?” I ask, recalling how familiar they’d seemed that first night.

Something flits across her face as she nods. “It is. Lizzie and I kept in touch over the years, and his family would come out and stay with us every summer. I’ve practically watched that boy grow up, a couple weeks here and there at a time. At least until…”

She shudders and takes a deep breath. This time, the sorrow on her face is unmistakable even half-shaded in the dim firelight.

Part of me knows I should let it go, but I can’t fully tamp down my curiosity. “Until what?”

“Until…” She hesitates, then gives a slight shake of her head as if to clear it. Shadows flicker over her cheeks, highlighting the pained lines creasing her forehead. “Well, let’s just say this place holds as many painful memories for his family as good ones.They haven’t been back for a while now—not that I can blame them. This is the first time I’ve seen Percy in years.”

I ponder that, wondering again why Percy’s on this stupid school trip instead of here with his parents. There’s obviously more Ms. Lindman isn’t saying, though whether that’s because it’s some big secret or simply because she doesn’t want to talk about it, I can’t tell. Either way, I feel a sudden flash of guilt for prying into Percy’s personal life, especially after the huge stink I made over him attempting to butt into mine.

“It’s good Percy has friends like you around to help him through this,” she continues with a wavering smile. “I’m glad he’s not alone. Sometimes, we all need someone else we can trust to lean on.”

What the hell isthatsupposed to mean? My guilt intensifies. I can’t bring myself to tell her that I’m not Percy’s friend—so far as I know, no one on this trip is. Desperate to change the subject, I focus back on Ms. Lindman’s haggard face and blurt, “Are you all right?”

She blinks at me, and this time when she smiles, it seems more genuine. “That’s sweet of you to ask, but I’m fine. Just tired.”

“A lot going on?” I wince inwardly.So, what, I’m not willing to pry into Percy’s life, but I’m willing to pry into hers?

She doesn’t seem bothered by the question, though, merely chuckles and shakes her head. “You could say that. Just wait until you have kids of your own to deal with someday. All those shows and movies aren’t joking when they talk about teenage angst.”