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I push my way inside the bedroom. With one glance, it’s easy to tell this room serves mainly as an office. The old-fashioned metal tanker desk houses an outdated computer.Computer?I step closer to examine the relic. No, I take it back. That’s an old word processor. I didn’t think those were still in existence. I knew he wouldn’t allow Cassie to have a phone, but surely, they have internet. I pull out my phone and search for a connection. Sure enough. No internet. Did I step back in time? I spin the ring on my finger and glance around the room, landing on an oversized painting. “Jesus Christ,” I belt out.
“Yeah, that’s him,” a baritone voice says from behind, startling me.
Can I catch a damn break? Curbing my language is going to be more challenging than I thought. I glance back at the portrait of Jesus praying on some rock.I have to sleep with this guy peering over me.
“It sure is. I wasn’t quite expecting something so . . . prominent,” I say, trying to play off my brashness.
“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t hurt to start praying to him. You’ll need his guidance.”
You got that right.
I bite back my sharp rebuttal and agree. “Yes, sir.”
“I wanted to inform you that supper will be ready at six o’clock sharp.”
“Thanks, sir.”
He gives a quick nod and stalks away. I place the suitcase on my bed with a shake of my head, searching for soap and shampoo. I need that shower. Although, I think it will take more than hot water to get used to these living conditions.
I snatch the containers and sneak another glance at the religious figure. Yep, Coach is right. I’m going to need a lot of help. I tip the shampoo bottle to the painting and nod. “What do you say, Big Guy? Can I count on you?”
When silence greets me, I shake my head and mumble, “That’s what I thought.”
Heading to the bathroom, I pass Cassie’s room, and my traitorous eyes stray to her door. I want to barge in there and demand answers, but another part of me wants to ignore her existence. I need to cling to the latter as if my life depended on it because it kind of does. I can’t think of anything more off-limits or damaging to my career than associating with her.
But this is Cassie.
The girl I spent an entire year trying to find.
The girl I thought I loved.
The pang in my chest returns. I ignore it and push my way into the bathroom. The door ricochets shut with more force than intended. Thrusting my hands through my hair, I lean my back against the door and gaze upward. “Lord, if you exist, give me strength because Cassie just became my worst sinful combination—a forbidden temptation.”
Chapter Four
CASSIE
The slamof the bathroom door reverberates off my walls and snaps me to attention. I turn to face my cousin. She looks as perplexed as I feel. We’re sitting on the edge of my bed in a trance. A state we’ve been in since walking past Dalton and heading in here.
“What are you going to do?” Nicole’s voice cracks at the end. That hint of despair does little to calm my frayed nerves.
“I-I don’t know. How is this even possible?” The question is rhetorical, but I can’t formulate an intelligent response right now.He’s really here.Dalton Boyd, the boy I wished fate would bring us together, is right outside my door for the next eleven or so weeks.
“Do you think he’s here because he found out who your dad is?”
“Um . . .” I ponder her question for a moment but quickly dismiss that notion. The look on his face was pure shock. “No. He looked blindsided.”
“Yeah, he did seem rather surprised,” Nicole admits. “But, seriously, what are you going to do?”
It takes a moment to formulate an answer because I have no clue how to proceed. Never in a million years did I predict this situation. I may have dreamed about Dalton finding me, but that hope fizzled when I had Nicole block his number. Since I wasn’t allowed to have a cell phone and Nicole was his only contact, we never heard from him after that. I forced myself not to look him up on the internet. It was tempting—oh, so tempting—but I knew any information about him would only break my heart more. What if he popped up on the screen with another girl? It would’ve crushed me even though I had no right to be. It’s not as if we had a normal relationship with an actual ending. I just disappeared on him.
And now he’s here.
In my house.
Playing ball for my dad.
This can only mean one thing—Dalton needs a stricter regimen to work on his attitude. He certainly doesn’t need me as a distraction.
