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“Brown trout!” I yelled back.
“Atta girl!”
Pride swelled in my chest at a job well done. I took care of the fish as quickly and humanely as possible before I put it in my pile and redid my line. I didn’t enjoy hunting or fishing for sport. If mother earth gave me something useful, I didn’t want to throw it away.
I spent the next few hours on the lake but didn’t catch any more fish. I must have gotten lucky with that first one. I was sun-kissed and in high spirits when I drove the boat back to the dock.
But my spirits deflated when I got back to the cabin and saw Felix’s car in the drive. I took a quick shower and started preparing the fish for dinner. Killing your own dinner was cool, since you knew where it came from, but it was still kinda gross. I made filets and fried them up on the stove while I played my rockabilly playlist and drank a beer.
I hadn’t even noticed Felix until I turned around and saw him leaning against the fridge, beer in hand. He watched me with hungry eyes, and I didn’t like that. He was so hot, but we would never, ever sleep together again.
“What are you making?” he asked.
“Fish fry. I caught it myself!”
He raised his pierced eyebrow, and something about the gesture made me want to yank it out. That was a mean thought, but I was still pissed off at him. I would try to play nice this week since we were in such close quarters, but a part of me didn’t want to. I kinda wanted to punch him and then suck his dick.
Jesus H, what was wrong with me?
“I didn’t know you fished. Is that safe to eat?” he asked.
I shrugged. “As long as you don’t eat it all the time. There’s enough for both of us. If you want to join me for dinner.”
Why was I inviting him to have dinner with me?
He smirked. “Sure, sweet thing.”
“Gah!” I said and glared at him. “Never mind, you’re the literal worst.”
“Relax. You need help?”
“Oh yeah, there’s a bag of fries in the freezer. We’ll bake them in the oven and have fish and chips.”
“I’m game.”
He helped me get everything ready for dinner, which was nice. He knew his way around a kitchen, and that interested me. It shouldn’t have. I really should not care about Felix’s culinary skills.
We ate in silence. The trout was good fried up, but I think it tasted better since I caught it myself. Felix didn’t let me get up after dinner while he did the dishes. I sat back and drank my beer. Then I got up and started taking photos of my beer in different spots in the house.
“Are you doing work?” Felix asked when he found me outside on the porch.
I grimaced. “Yeah.”
He took my phone out of my hands. “Vacation, Gemma. It means no working.”
“I can’t help it!” I said and grabbed for my phone.
“No work.”
When I nodded, he handed it back, but I was a liar.
“It’s beautiful here,” Felix said.
I looked at his profile while he stared out at the horizon. There was something haunting in his dark eyes, a secret hidden there. Part of me wanted to know his secrets, but the other part was still raw. I couldn’t give him another chance to crush me into a thousand pieces.
I jumped at the sound of thunder in the distance as a strike of lightning lit up the sky.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
But I wasn’t. I hated thunderstorms. And when the rain poured down suddenly, I ran inside without another word. Felix didn’t stop me when I ran upstairs and hid in my room for the rest of the night. Thunderstorms like this reminded me of the day my mom died and made me feel awful because I barely remembered her.
Felix hadn’t noticed I was being weird since I had already told him to stay out of my way this week. He must have assumed that was my way of being alone with my thoughts. That was true, but they weren’t particularly good thoughts. Instead, I sat up in bed with my knees against my chest and let the guilt about my mom come to the surface.
