over.
Stifling a pathetic whimpering sound, I climbed out of the bed, grabbing the flashlight and the hurricane lamp, carefully making my way down the stairs, finding Rush standing in the living room we never went in because of all the heads on the walls.
In front of him, a cabinet was open, a long curly phone cord spilling out, slithering up Rush's shoulder to the old-fashioned off-white receiver he had pressed to his ear.
I had no idea who was on the other end of the phone, but whatever they were saying had wiped all that softness, all that heat from his face, leaving instead what looked a lot like anger there instead.
"Yeah, well, it's not fucking funny. Something could have happened," he said, turning his wide back to me as he spoke, making me feel like I was intruding on something personal.
Shut out, I set down the oil lamp a few feet away from him, taking the flashlight with me.
I had no destination in mine, just as far away from the rejection I had felt as I could get.
It wasn't long before Rush joined me in my room, the hurricane lamp lit, brightening the dark space.
"Fee said the owner will be here at first light to deal with the tree in the road. We have flights back in the afternoon. It would be smart to pack tonight since you unpacked everything," he told me, placing the lamp on the nightstand before making a hasty retreat back to the doorway.
"Wait... what?" I asked, feeling like I had missed something.
"When we get back, Fee is going to talk to you about it," he said, shaking his head, moving into the hall, seemingly unwilling to give me anything else. "Pack. Get some sleep in my room. I am going to take the lamp when you're done, so I can finish straightening the place up for the owner so we can get out of here as fast as possible tomorrow."
With that, he was gone, closing my door as he went, like some silent sign not to follow him.
I didn't have a hell of a lot of pride left, but I had just enough to prevent me from running after a man who clearly did not want to be around me.
So I slowly, carefully, painstakingly packed; I straightened my room, hearing Rush doing the same across the hall, likely by the light of his phone.
He certainly didn't want to waste any time getting out of here. Getting away from this situation. And, even in an abstract way, me.
On that sobering thought, I took the lamp across the hall, placing it a foot out from his door, knocking.
"All yours," I said before rushing across the hall, closing, and locking my door, throwing myself in the bed, burrowing deep under the blankets, ignoring the cold that seemed to sink into my bones with each passing moment.
I wasn't going across that hall.
I wasn't getting in that bed.
Where the sheets smelled like him.
Where I had done something so stupid as to think it was possible to have something real with Rush Rivers.
I couldn't.
It was all fantasy.
Sure, he'd kissed me.
But I was there.
He was horny.
I was what he could reach out for.
It wasn't a happy thought, but it was a realistic one.
And it was one I repeated in my mind like a mantra for what felt like hours as Rush banged around a floor below me.
If I were a bigger person, I would go down there and help him.
But I wasn't.
So I stayed put, layering on a few sweaters, two pairs of socks, slipping all the way under all the blankets, head and all.
It was hours before I could hear his feet on the stairs, going into his room, pausing, likely taking in the empty bed, then coming across the hall.
My breath caught in my chest as I waited for his hand to raise, for his knuckles to knock, for his voice to demand I come back to his bed, get warm.
But I waited in vain.
Because all I heard was an exhalation of his breath, then his footsteps moving away, his door closing, locking, the bed groaning as he got down in it.
So, that was it.
Ridiculous, irrational tears sprang into my eyes, making me blink them back with a determination that didn't feel familiar.
I wasn't going to cry.
Over a freaking story I created in my own mind, some fairytale where the plain, boring, awkward girl finds out she was somehow beautiful, interesting, and elegant after all, that she caught the attention