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S adie slammed the stockroom door and dropped a pile of vests on the counter. Aaron’s back was to her, but she clocked the tension in his shoulders. She tried to hide her irritation, but she could tell by the way his eyes flicked toward her every time she cut open a box of merchandise with a little too much force or the way he stiffened when she banged the cash register closed too loudly that he knew she was pissed.

The fact that he registered her annoyance made her even more frustrated. She had every right to be mad. Didn’t she? Her anger abated when she answered her own rhetorical question: sure, but she was really mad at herself, not him.

Her relationship with Aaron was far from healthy. If she were being honest, it bordered on toxic. Every time they broke up, she promised herself this time it was for good. And every time, she took him back. Her friends pressed her for an explanation, but she couldn’t explain it to them because she didn’t understand it herself. Well, she sort of understood it.

He made her laugh. He made her feel light and carefree and, she had to admit, sexy.

The youngest store manager in Outdoor Adventure Co-op history and on a clear upward trajectory, Sadie was, as a rule, the opposite of light and carefree. She was ambitious and focused and, just maybe, a tiny bit humorless. Aaron, in contrast, was friendly and easygoing but, at best, a mediocre hourly employee. And in her heart, she knew that even that assessment was too generous. Despite the fact that they’d been dating, sleeping together, and/or living together for most of his employment, he’d been on probation more than once. Inevitably, she was going to have to fire him someday. Still, she kept taking him back.

Their living arrangement didn’t help. During their breaks or breakups or whatever you wanted to call them, she would remind herself to be strong, to treat him just as a roommate and nothing more. Yet inevitably he’d show up at her bedroom door with a couple of craft IPAs and a pizza, suggesting a movie, and then the next thing she knew they’d be in a tangle of sheets.

None of this was in her plan. The plan was literal, not metaphorical. Sadie had mapped it out in a spreadsheet during her first year of college. She hadn’t come to Union Hill for some on-again off-again relationship with a stoner. She’d graduated summa cum laude with a business degree and a plan to launch her own B corporation someday, an outdoor company committed to the public benefit. Working for OAC was a step in that plan.

And then she’d met Aaron. Despite his lack of ambition—or maybe because of it—he made her stomach do somersaults. So while the local mean girls thought she was jealous of Rory, they were wrong. She was disappointed in herself for her weakness. Ashamed of the way she took Aaron back so easily. All it took was a grin and a suggestion, and she brought him into her bed again—even though he was still, after all this time, mooning over Rory Westin. It was humiliating.

The display yesterday where he trotted over to her like a golden retriever with the newspaper had turned Sadie’s stomach. The only thing more embarrassing would have been if he’d actually carried it in his mouth.

Yes, Rory was a talented photographer. Good for her. And she was beautiful—a knockout. Sadie had eyes, she couldn’t deny the woman was stunning. And, she had to admit, Rory didn’t capitalize on her looks. She dressed in jeans and t-shirts and wore almost no makeup. Some days, Sadie was sure she hadn’t bothered to brush her hair. But despite all that, Aurora Westin was objectively gorgeous.

Sadie’s eyes flicked over to the full-length mirror mounted on the wall outside the dressing rooms. Fit, strong, with dewy olive skin, clear green eyes, and glossy brown hair, she was the picture of health and natural beauty. Sure, she was no supermodel. But she was pretty, smart, and independent. Frankly, she was out of Aaron’s league. But here they were. It was demoralizing.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Aaron turned to her. “Everything okay, babe?”

She mumbled a non-response. Eager to a fault to be liked, he left the pile of tents he was stickering with price tags and ambled over to her.

He dug his warm hands into her back and began massaging her tight shoulders. “You’re so tense.”

She felt herself melting under his touch even though she tried to resist. “I’m fine.”

“You really aren’t. Relax,” he purred in her ear as he rubbed her knotted muscles with firm strokes.

She exhaled, allowing herself to soften into his touch.

Then, just as she was about to sigh with pleasure, he said, “Did you see the installation up the street?”

She stiffened.

His tone was light and casual, like he was trying to contain his excitement. He cared enough to do that, at least. But the question stung.

Of course, she’d seen it. How could she miss it? Everyone was buzzing about Rory’s latest stunning achievement when she stopped in at Ember + Bean for her morning coffee. Her curiosity demanded she detour past Rory’s building to check it out on her way to the store.

“What installation?” The lie flew out of her mouth on its own accord.

Before she could tease out the reason for her dishonesty, he was tripping over himself to tell her all about Rory’s guerrilla art show. She tuned out and let his rush of words wash over her and roll away, as if they were water and she were the proverbial duck.