Page 49 of Beg Me Angel

I didn't have to see his expression to know that he was laughing to himself. I could hear the soft chuckle, feel the grin on his lips even though he kept his back to me.

“I hope you're hungry, breakfast is my favorite one to cook.”

“Is this a fresh morning catch?” I asked, pressing my knees into my chest and curling up tight.

“No, it's my reserves, so consider yourself lucky.” The clank of plates on the counter echoed through the cabin, the scent of bacon filled the room around me.

“Do I smell bacon?”

“Stop, I'm not telling you what you're getting.”

“But I can smell bacon, so I know you're making that.”

“I'm not answering you.”

“But—”

“Nope, stop trying to guess.”

Groaning to myself, I curled my feet under the blanket and let the fire take over my mind. It was strange how amazing and beautiful something so simple could be.

Most days that I was at home just hanging around, I would lay on the couch, push play on my DVR and watch an entire season of some shitty reality television show.

I would let the screen suck me in, turning me into a living zombie as I downed a pint of vanilla ice cream, and wallowed in the repetitive tasks life threw my way.

But here, here it was different.

I could hear all the animals outside, the birds, the crickets, the rustle of leaves as small animals jumped from tree to tree. There were no other noises to seep in and mingle with your thoughts.

No cars, no horns or firetrucks zipping by at all hours of the day, interrupting you when you were talking or trying to study to the point you had to stop until they were gone.

Here, tucked away in the silence it was tranquil, relaxing, and nothing like what I was used to. It was slightly scary to me how much I was starting to enjoy being here.

My mind was slowing down—not forgetting—but temporarily silencing the onslaught of questions. I had stopped obsessing over what had brought me here and was becoming drawn to the idea of it all having a purpose.

Maybe I was meant to find this place. . .

No! You have a life, a family, you have everything waiting for you outside those trees and no one knows where you are.

“Pax?”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking—”

“Oh shit, thinking. . .” Pausing, he twisted over his shoulder and sent me a wide-eyed glare.

“Shut up.” Stretching my arms up, I worked out a kink in my shoulder. “I should probably call my mom and let her know I'm alright.”

His back rolled straight, one vertebrae at a time. His neck thickened, not looking up, not bringing his eyes to mine. “And how do you plan on doing that? I don't have a phone here.”

“I know, but there has to be one in town I can use. She's probably worried sick, I need to let her know I'm okay.”

I heard him inhale an awkward breath as he shifted on his feet and kept his face on the pan. “I'm not going into town today.”

“So—can't we make a trip down?”

“I only go once a month and I already made that last week.” His voice changed, peppered in defiance and tension.