Love Fast

If I’d stayed in Oregon, I’d be halfway to my honeymoon right now. I’d be on my way to Mexico or Tahiti or maybe even Paris.

Instead, I’m freezing my ass off in a bar in god-knows-where. Okay, so I’m pretty sure I’m in Colorado—the state where I landed. Other than that, I’m clueless and also homeless. The bus stopped when it was already dark. From what I’ve seen of the town so far, it could be the backdrop to a cozy mystery or the home of a serial killer. Either one doesn’t seem particularly appealing. But the bus driver told me about an inn in town, and stupidly, I assumed I’d get a room, so I got off two stops before the end of the line.

I figured no one would look for me here. Beyond that, I don’t have a plan. When I got up this morning, I’d planned to be Frank’s wife by now. Now I’m sitting in a bar halfway across the US, and I’m definitely not married.

My mother’s going to kill me.

I need another tequila. But no, I need to be sober in case I need to practice the self-defense moves I learned in high school. The town being home to a serial killer and all. Possibly. Maybe. I also need to be sober in case drunk-me is tempted to respond to Frank’s text, telling me I’ll come to my senses. That was after I texted him to apologize for dumping him not-quite-at-the-altar.

“Ask around?” I scan the bar. Who would I ask? Letting the world know I’m totally lost and alone doesn’t seem like the wisest plan. Not to mention, the last thing I want is for someone to ask why I’m dressed like this.

By the time I got through security at the airport, the plane was already boarding. I didn’t have time to look for a change of clothes. When I landed, I had a little more luck. After buying a bus ticket, I prioritized footwear. I picked up a pair of sneakers on sale, but then I had to run for my bus. By the time I reached Star Falls, all the stores were closed.

The bartender is barely twenty-one, but he looks at me like he’s seen plenty of brides on the hunt for a bed while on the run. His eyes are full of pity and knowing. “I know Beth and Mike have a couple of cabins just outside of town.”noveldrama

My heart lifts in my chest at the real possibility of a bed to sleep in tonight.

“But I think they’re rented at the moment.” He looks at the guy sitting next to me. Is this Mike, of Beth and Mike? I turn to look at him. If it is, Beth is a very lucky woman. Mike is hot. I know I was engaged to be married up until ten thirty this morning, but I’m not dead. The guy next to me is tall and dark and swarthy. I don’t know exactly what swarthy means, but I know this guy is it. His hair isn’t long, but it’s not short either. It’s definitely long enough to get a fistful of when he’s buried between my thighs.

Holy crap! I snap my head back to focus on my glass of tap water. I’m staring. More than that, I’m fantasizing. It’s not something I’ve done in a while. My life has felt all too real recently. I make a silent apology to Beth and then turn my attention back to the bartender. “If Beth and Mike are lucky enough to have their cabins rented, is there anyone else in town who has a place? Or rents out a room?”

The bartender shoots another speaking glance at Mike before saying, “You could try Colbert’s Farm, but I think it’s booked.”

Mike interrupts. “I’m renting Beth and Mike’s cabins. I’m in one. You could take the other if you needed it for a couple of nights.” He’s wearing a blue plaid shirt that looks as soft as spun clouds.

So not only is the hot stranger not one half of “Beth and Mike,” he also might have the solution to my accommodation problem.

“It’s available?” I ask.

He nods. It’s not an enthusiastic response, but at this point, as long as it has a bed and a flushing toilet, I’ll take it.

“Is it far?” I ask.

“Just up the street, about half a mile out of town.” He glances at the door and then back at me.

I don’t bother to ask him the price—it’s my only option and I’ll just have to hope it doesn’t drain all of my savings. I glance at my engagement ring. It’s such a pretty ring. I picked it out myself. Frank wanted me to have the exact one I wanted, so we went ring shopping together after the engagement. I hadn’t given any thought to engagement rings, and I picked it out because it reminded me of the kind of flower six-year-old me would have drawn. Small sapphire petals surround a large central diamond. It’s pretty, but now it feels heavy on my finger. Like I shouldn’t be wearing it.

I slip it off and slide it onto the bar. I’ll have to give it back to Frank. I guess I could mail it. I push thoughts of tomorrow away. I will know what to do after a night’s sleep.

“I’m Rosey, by the way,” I say to the stranger. I really hope he isn’t a serial killer.

He nods. “Byron.”

“Good to meet you, Byron.” I want to ask him if he’s named after the poet. Whether his parents were romantic and whether he reads poetry. All of a sudden I have a thousand questions, but from the look on his face, questions are the last thing this man wants.

I don’t ask him if I can have the key right away, even though that’s exactly what I want to do. I want to go now. Get out of this dress. When I first put the hoodie on, I could pretend people weren’t going to necessarily think that I was wearing a wedding dress—I tricked myself into believing that people would just think I was wearing a white skirt with a hoodie. But since the zipper broke when it caught on the arm of the airplane seat, there’s no doubt I’m wearing a full-fledged wedding gown.

The problem is, I don’t have anything else but this dress to put on. I don’t know why, but somehow, the idea of taking it off tonight and having to put it back on in the morning feels worse than just sleeping in it.

“You want to go now?” he asks, staring ahead at the multicolored bottles behind the bar.

“Whenever you’re ready,” I reply. This guy has done me a huge favor. I don’t want to rush him, but let’s get the hell going already. He hasn’t finished his beer, and he probably came to relax. Let off some steam. He looks stressed. Or maybe not stressed as much as irritated. That can’t be just down to me. When I first walked in, he wore the same expression, way before he knew I was going to be bothering him for a room for the night.

He slides his beer across the bar, stands, and pulls out his wallet. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, you don’t need to—I mean, I can walk. I just need a key.” I hope this guy doesn’t think he’s getting lucky tonight. He’s hot and everything, but like, I was supposed to marry someone today. One is enough.

“Key’s in my cabin. I’ll give you a ride.” He holds out his jacket. “Put this on. It’s freezing.”

“I’m fine⁠—”

“Put the jacket on. It’s cold outside.”

I tighten my jaw at his command. I didn’t escape Oregon just to be ordered about in Star Falls. But once again, I can’t say no. I need a bed for the night and this guy’s cabin is my only option. I figure I’ll put his jacket on and just be grateful he hasn’t asked about what I’m wearing. If he’s going to murder me, my DNA will be on his clothes. And enough people have seen us leave together that even if I’m dead, at least this guy will go to jail.

I slip on the navy jacket, cuffs falling past my fingers. It feels like a huge blanket. I didn’t realize how cold I’d been until now. I look up at Byron, his hands thrust into the pockets of his dark blue jeans, his eyes narrowed like he’s trying to figure something out. He glances around the bar, and I follow his eyeline. There’s a ripple of heads lifting, checking out what’s going on.

He sighs. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “This town never changes. It’s addicted to gossip. Let’s go.”

He sounds pissed off. At the town? Me? His evening being interrupted? Probably all of the above.

Nothing I can do about his mood. Hopefully it means he won’t quiz me about what I’m doing in town, how long I’ll stay or where I’ve come from. I don’t have any answers at the moment. I certainly don’t want to think about Oregon. Every minute that ticks by makes it more and more impossible to go back. I left wanting to escape a wedding, but the more I think about it, I’ve escaped more than just being Frank’s wife. I escaped my entire life.

And I’m not sure I want to go back.

If I’m honest, I haven’t liked my life in Oregon for a long time. I don’t like the person I was there, either. I want to be someone else, with different circumstances and a different future. I just need to figure out whether that future can start in Star Falls, or whether I’m just as far as ever from a life I actually want.