Page 12 of Never Your Valentine

“You’re staying at a hotel,” I finish limply.

“I haven’t got the keys to my place yet, and it’s a whole…thing.” Annabelle steps toward me again, oblivious. She doesn’t know what a big problem this is. She slides her hands up my chest. It feels better than I want it to. Dammit.

She smiles that sweet, sexy smile that’s going to be the death of me. “Luckily, I have a room here tonight, so nobody has to drive in the snow,” she says.

I remove her hands from my chest. “My truck has four-wheel drive.”

“And you’re telling me this because…”

“Because I’m going to drive home.” I’m already patting my pockets for my keys.

“Okay! You don’t have to spend the night.” Annabelle shows me her palms. “God, no. Who does that nowadays? Not if you don’t want to, but⁠—”

“I’m going to drive home right now.” I push the button to summon the elevator.

“Now? What do you mean, now?” Annabelle whips her head toward the elevator doors and then back at me as if she’s wondering what just happened. Did we just imagine that incredible kiss?

We didn’t. It was real. It was sensational. She’s sensational. But I can’t stay. I can’t do this.

Dammit, this is so fucked up. I fucked up. This is my fault. I asked the wrong questions. Made the wrong assumptions. I should have known better. Annabelle doesn’t fit into any of the boxes labeled winter tourist because she’s not a tourist. She lives here. Which means I need to leave. Now.

“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s hardly adequate, but it’s all I have.

“Okay. Good.” Annabelle seems even smaller, as if she’s shrunk into herself, with drooping shoulders and a downcast gaze. “Not sure what for, though? I mean, I think I’m sorry? We got our wires crossed somewhere and I misread this situation, because I⁠—”

“Please. Don’t.” I reach for her hand. She pulls it away. Fair.

“You’re beautiful,” I say. “And smart, and funny, and that kiss was something else. We would be great together.”

“But…” She waits for me to continue. She’s straightened up now, spine stiff. She looks like she’s starting to hate me.

She can join the club. I’m starting to hate me too. This has all gone so wrong, so fast, and there’s no way to make it right.

I don’t even try. I get back on the elevator, push the button for the ground floor, and die a little inside as the doors close on her beautiful face.

The elevator descends with just me in it. The idiot of Echo Creek.

Chapter 5

Annabelle

Last night was…not great. I tossed and turned in my hotel bed alone, not sure if I should be mad or what. Disappointed, maybe. Grant was nice, funny, hot, and very into me. That kiss in the elevator was next-level. He really put his back into it, as my Nana used to say. We were halfway to my hotel room and then he just…bailed. What kind of man turns down a sure thing?

Magnus did, says a nasty little voice in my head.

I hate that voice. And I hate Magnus. I hate the way he made me feel worthless. All I wanted was to be close to him, but in the last year, the man didn’t touch me once. He said no to sex, no to cuddles, even no to blowjobs—and I give exceptional blowjobs. Magnus insisted that nothing was wrong, that he still loved me, that he wanted to make our relationship work.

He was an ideal boyfriend in every other respect, so the problem had to be me. I wasn’t desirable. I wasn’t worthy. I was ugly. Disgusting, even. That’s the story I told myself. I let that gaslighting jerk mess with my head and destroy my self-esteem, and I let it go on far too long.

Last night, I felt the opposite of that. I felt wanted. For a minute anyway. And then it was Magnus all over again.

“This is for the best,” I tell myself. I say it three times, making myself believe it. I’m looking for a real relationship, and Grant is obviously not relationship material, but I took one look at him and lost my mind.

That can’t happen. Not again.

I grab my phone and delete the photo of his driver’s license, glad I didn’t send it to Kat. From now on, Grant Neverly doesn’t exist.

I lie in bed, scrolling through the other photos on my roll. The bakery’s treat case, the bookstore’s windows, the post office in a converted Victorian mansion, the tiny city hall. My weather app tells me that the snowstorm is past and today would be a great day to film, especially if I can get down to the boardwalk before the sun is fully up. I’m not meeting the lawyer until ten, so I’ve got plenty of time to make some content and get some breakfast before then.