Home > Perfectly Damaged(26)

Perfectly Damaged(26)
Author: E.L. Montes

Two hours later, according to our navigation system, we’ve reached our destination. I straighten in the passenger seat. Charlie drives down a long dirt path, which is supposed to lead us to the lake house. I look around, taking in the beauty of the outdoors. Who knew nature could create such perfection? It’s like a work of art. Trees of all different colors and textures surround us, and the sun shines down in patches on the leaves and plants covering the forest floor. It’s stunning, peaceful. I roll down the passenger window and lean my head out to catch the warm breeze on my skin and in my hair. Breathing feels effortless here. It doesn’t feel like a task or a struggle.

Light strokes of the wind brush my face. I shut my eyes and continue to just…breathe, letting the alluring sounds of nature fill my ears. It’s quiet, like the only sounds in the world are the ones around me: leaves lightly rustling against one another in the breeze, buzzing of early summer insects, and birds chirping merrily. I haven’t even seen the house or the lake yet, but right now, at this very moment, I feel at peace. I feel safe. It’s the strangest sensation. So much time has passed since I’ve experienced it, it feels abnormal, yet right at the same time. I wish I could freeze this moment and stay here forever.

“We’re here!” Charlie lets out a squeal. Her car comes to an abrupt stop, jerking me forward in my seat. I flash my eyes open as I throw my arms out against the dash. Wow. The lake house is much more than I pictured. I expected a tiny cottage—which would be fine—but I didn’t expect this. A large two-story cabin sits proudly in a grassy clearing before us. The tall glass windows, wrapped around both the lower and upper levels, provide a perfect view of the inside. Just behind the home is the lake, encircled by tall trees.

Charlie and I exit the car. I stand just outside the passenger side with the door wide open, taking it all in. I hear the trunk open and close before Charlie interrupts my reverie. “Hey, want to help me out over here?” I turn around and see her struggling to roll both pieces of our luggage on the dirt driveway.

“We’ll help out with those,” Bryson calls out as he and Santino jog over.

“See you guys found your way,” Santino says with a smile as he grabs a suitcase. Bryson grabs the other.

“Yeah. The GPS took us the long route, but we eventually made it,” Charlie says, stretching her limbs. We’re both a little achy from the three-hour drive.

Bryson smiles modestly. “I should have told you there was construction on the main road so it would reroute you a different way. Sorry.”

Charlie waves her hand. “No worries. It was great bonding time. Wasn’t it, Jenna?”

“Yeah.” I shut the car door.

Bryson jerks his head toward the house. “Well, let me show you guys where you’ll be staying.”

Charlie runs up between Santino and Bryson and starts chatting away as I follow closely behind. We reach the front porch and enter the home. It’s exactly what you’d hope a lake house would be like: open, airy, and bright. The oversized sectional and two recliners in the living area give the space a more masculine look. There’s no art on the wall, but there are a few large collage frames hanging over to one side, which I’m guessing are filled with family photos.

We follow the guys up the stairs and into one of the five bedrooms with two twin beds. They place our luggage down. “This is where you girls will be staying. I hope it’s okay?” Bryson asks.

I slowly whirl around, meeting him eye to eye. “Yes. It’s perfect, thank you.”

He nods once. “All right. We’ll let you girls get settled in.” He glances at his watch. “It’s only six. We have food in the kitchen if you’re hungry. People will start arriving around eight.”

“It’ll be fun, girls,” Santino says to us, but his focus is entirely on Charlie who’s by the door, smiling flirtatiously in return. Bryson grips Santino by the shoulder and hauls him out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

I let out a large huff. “What are we doing here?”

Charlie gives me a distraught look and then places both hands to her hips. Here comes dramatic Charlie. “What do you mean by ‘What are we doing here?’ You said it was okay, that we should come. Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts.”

“It just feels bizarre. Earlier today I had an argument with my mother, an episode. Now I’m here, standing in a room at a lake house that’s owned by the contractors working for my parents.” I toss a hand in the air. “None of that strikes you as odd? Not even a little bit?”

Charlie drops her arms, walks over, and grips my biceps. “Odd? No. Exciting? Yes. Loosen up a bit.” She shimmies my arms. “Tonight will be fun. I promise. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning if you’re still feeling this way.”

I raise a brow in question. “Promise?”

She brings a hand to her chest. “Promise.”

“Okay, let’s go downstairs, then.”

“Attagirl!”

Charlie and I are introduced to the other three guys—Justin, Danny, and Scott—who are also working on the guesthouse for my parents. They seem like nice guys, though I can’t help but notice that Logan isn’t around. No one has mentioned him, and I don’t want to seem interested, so I leave it at that. We’re all sitting around the kitchen table and the guys are telling us how these summer parties of theirs work.

“And you have one every weekend for the entire summer?” Charlie asks, very entertained by their stories.

Bryson answers, “Pretty much. We started seven years ago for my twenty-first birthday and it’s been a thing ever since.” He takes a sip of his beer. All the guys and Charlie are drinking already. I’m sure I’ll be babysitting her the rest of the night.

“When’s your birthday?” I ask.

He looks at me from across the table and his face lights up with a huge grin. “Tomorrow, actually.”

Charlie leans over the table, her breasts practically spilling out of her low-cut shirt. “Na-uh. Shut up!” He laughs at her and nods. “Well, happy birthday! We have to do something special for you.”

I roll my eyes, shake my head, and look toward the living area just as the front door swings open. Logan steps in, wiping the dirt of his shoes along the welcome rug. My heart does a backflip and starts crashing around in my chest. I saw him this morning. He saw me this morning. I feel embarrassed now. The way I looked. The way I acted. He witnessed all of it.

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