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It’s bizarre, really. I'm not normally attracted to big men. The men who could crush me with their fist. The men who could overpower me. The men who could hurt me.
So why am I so attracted to him?
What is it about him?
ChapterFour
Sadie
I change from my airport clothes into a slouchy pink sweater that hangs off one shoulder. I pair it with black leggings and socks that nearly reach my knee. They're puffy, cream, andInstagramcute. I planned on taking a photo or two in my super cute socks next to a window with a Mountain View and a steaming cup of coffee, posting it. Don’t go thinking I’m social media savvy, I’m not. But Katie is always telling me that I should commit to more than my semi-annual update. She claims one or two a week is sufficient. One or two a week sounds like the third circle of Hell to me. Still, if there’s a place worthy of anInstagrampic, I figured it would be this dreamy house nestled in the Colorado mountains in the cute as a button town (Lucy claimed) that Cottonwood Hollow was.
I had yet to see the town, which isn’t big enough for its own airport. We’d bypassed it, Bruce telling me we needed to beat the storm.
Even in this picturesque place, I doubt I’ll be taking any photos for the gram. And if I do take a photo or two, the chance of me posting it is as good as an alien landing in Nick’s kitchen wearing a Mrs. Claus apron ready to whip up a Christmas treat.
With Nick’s kitchen entering my mind, Nick himself enters. I wonder what he’ll think of my socks. Will he think they’re cute? What would he think of me posting a pic of my socks, of all things, to social media?
Why the hell do people do that? And why does it get so many likes? Thinking about it now? It's ridiculous. I mean, it's socks.
Who cares about socks? Who cares about other people's lives, really? I mean, what is wrong with society? How do we get so caught up in social media when hardly any of it is real?
I don't get it.
Shoving the thoughts from my mind, I pull my hair into a high pony. I've got long hair, and a lot of it. It's dark, never died. I thought once or twice about going blonde, but the idea was rejected almost immediately every time.
After splashing water on my face in the bathroom, I think about applying some makeup and decide not to bother. Nick had already seen me in the look I told myself was travel fresh. In truth, I simply couldn’t be bothered with makeup for a flight. Actually, I don't bother with makeup much at all. If I do, it’s a dusting of powder and swipe of mascara. If I’m feeling really into it, a pinch of blush.
Now, though, I’m staring at my suitcase with my makeup bag and wondering—should I?
I don’t want him to think I’m trying hard, though, so I shake off the thought as I settle for, well, just me.
I’m about to leave the bedroom when I hear my phone chime. It’s the chime for my email.
I hurry to it, my heart beginning to beat out of sync when I read Lucy’s name on the screen. Instantly, I’m mad. Fuming.Livid.
I feel betrayed.
I trusted her and she manipulated me.
I thought we were friends. I felt, sincerely, as though the bond we’d created had been honest and special.
Now, I’m not so sure.
How could she?
Sadie,
I suppose now you realize what I have done. I'm sorry. It was never my intention to set out to betray your trust. Your friendship has come to mean so much to me these past six weeks. Getting to know you has meant even more. You are a friend to me. A dear friend. It has always been my intention, however, that the one who answer my ad be intended for my son.
I will have you know now that you are not the only lonely soul to answer my call. After talking with the others, you are the one I chose. It’s not my place to choose a holiday companion for my son, or any companion, I know. What’s done is done. I have my faults. Meddling is just but one.
My son is a peculiar man. A good man, but difficult to know. This difficulty became even more so after the accident. I won't say much about this for I refuse to betray his trust in such a way. I may be meddling, but I love him. He is my son, my child. Even though he is a grown man, he is my boy, and as I am his mother, I meddle. I won't deny that I should have sat this one out. But it's been years—years—he's been lonely. I couldn't let another year go by and see him hurt.
His hurt hurts me.
I'm sorry that you got caught in this. But my darling Sadie,I think you and Nick could be friends. More than friends, even. I hope for that. But I won't hold my breath.
I know my Nick is hard in the same way I know you are soft.
