Page 5 of Denim & Diamonds

February

Seriously? No freaking password? Who the hell does that? Between the good-deed journal and now an unlocked cell phone, Lumberjack might as well have written all his secrets in a diary and handed it over.

Though I shouldn’t read it.

That would be another invasion of his privacy. Perhaps I could just check out the apps he had? Those weren’t too personal. Right?

I still felt a little guilty as I swiped from the home screen to the second page and perused the icons.

CNN News

Sports Line

Fitness Pro

Marathon Man

Home Depot

Tinder— Hmm… Interesting. Lumberjack has a hook-up dating app.

I stared down at the flame icon, feeling incredibly tempted to click in and see what type of women he swiped right on.

But that would definitely be crossing a line.

Yet my finger was still hovering over the app when Morgan popped her head into my room.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the cell phone in my hands.

“You have a second phone, too?”

I shook my head. “Actually, this one is Brock’s.”

“Hot mountain man gave you his phone?”

“Not intentionally. I snuck out to return his flannel and little book. He wasn’t at the bar, but then on my walk back, I ran into him while he was walking his dog.”

“You just happened to run into him again?”

“I know. But he lives and works nearby, and his dog has to go out.” I shrugged. “Anyway, we talked for a few minutes, and after, he made me take the flannel he had on for my walk back. I’d left the other one with the bartender. The phone was in the pocket.”

“Jeez.” She sat down on the bed next to me and plucked the cell from my hand. It was still illuminated. “How did you get in? Didn’t he have a password?”

“Nope. No password.”

“That’s absurd. Who doesn’t have a password?”

I shrugged again. “Someone with nothing to hide?”

She started to scroll. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Uh...” I reached over and swiped the phone from her hands. “You certainly will not. If I’m not going to invade the man’s privacy, you aren’t either.”

“You’re seriously not going to check out what’s on his phone? A cell is a gold mine of information. If I’d had free access like this to any of the men I dated before we started dating, it would’ve saved me a lot of heartache.”

“I’m not planning on dating Brock.”

She grinned. “So just fucking him, then? ”

“There will be none of that either. I’ll probably never see the man again.”

“Of course you will. You have to give him back that phone.”

***

Later in the afternoon, Lara, another patient I’d made friends with, came into my room. “Hey. You want to catch the five o’clock meditation class with me?”

“Yeah, sure.” I pretended to fix my bedding while slipping Brock’s cell phone under my pillow. I’d spent way too many hours staring at the thing today anyway. A little clearing of my mind was in order.

Meditation classes were taught by Trinity, one of the mental health therapists. She happened to be my therapist, so we already knew each other. She walked over while I was setting up my mat.

“Hey, February. How are you today?”

I smiled. “I’m doing well.”

“How have you been sleeping?”

“Eh. About the same.” Sleep had become an issue for me about a year ago.

I could fall asleep, but I never seemed able to stay asleep.

Even when I went to bed with a clear head, I woke up at two in the morning thinking about things going on at work or in my personal life.

Insomnia was actually one of the reasons I’d snuck out to the bar the other night.

I’d spent all day talking about the reasons I’d checked into Sierra Wellness Center, and I knew I’d be tossing and turning without a bit of liquid encouragement help me to drift off.

She smiled. “We’re going to do some exercises you can try at night before you go to bed. I’m glad you came today. ”

“Me too.”

The class began with Trinity playing a Tibetan singing bowl.

She asked us all to focus on the peaceful sound it made, taking three deep breaths in through our noses and breathing out through our mouths.

Then she instructed us to take a moment to think about a happy place.

My mind immediately went to having coffee with Brock in his apartment, which was bizarre since I barely knew the man, and waking up hungover with a shotgun pointed at me wasn’t exactly happy .

But nothing else came to mind, so I went with it.

Listening to the rhythmic hum of the bowl, I imagined myself in Brock’s bed again—how good he’d smell, how his big, protective body would keep me warm.

I’d snuggle close while he lay on his back, and I’d rest my head on his thick chest. He’d stroke my hair while I listened to his heartbeat. I felt so peaceful, so relaxed.

And that’s the last thing I remembered thinking about when I woke up some time later.

Pushing up to my elbows, I was now the only student in the class. Trinity sat at the front of the room writing in a journal. “Oh my God,” I said. “I can’t believe I fell asleep. I’m so sorry. How long was I out?”

She shut her book. “Not too long. And there’s nothing to apologize for. I take students falling asleep in meditation class as a compliment.”

I stretched my arms over my head and bent to the left, then the right. “I can’t remember the last time I napped. Maybe in college?”

“You must’ve needed it.” She smiled. “I have another class in a few minutes. You’re welcome to join. But if you go out to the gazebo on the west side of the building, you’ll probably catch a beautiful sunset right about now. I sometimes sit there at this time when I don’t have a class to teach.”

“Oh. That sounds great.” I stood and rolled up my mat. “I think I’ll do that.”

I walked outside and was greeted by a lavender-and-pink sky.

The setting sun cast a golden glow over the trees surrounding the gazebo.

It was so still and peaceful, and I realized I felt more relaxed than I had in ages.

Maybe there was something to this mediation stuff after all?

Or maybe there was something to fantasizing about a certain lumberjack.

I wasn’t sure which it was, but I sat quietly, enjoying the serenity.

When it grew dark, I made my way back inside and decided to stop at the business center.

Patients weren’t allowed to use cell phones or electronic devices, but we were allowed fifteen minutes a day of computer time to take care of whatever we needed to.

I generally used my time to email my administrative assistant, Oliver, who also happens to be my closest friend.

But today, I was so relaxed that I decided not to ruin it with work.

Instead, I typed a quick note to my sister, letting her know I was doing okay.

After, I still had a few minutes of time left, so I went on Instagram and typed in Brock Hawkins .

Not surprisingly, he didn’t seem to have an account.

But while I was on, I noticed a tag from Morgan, so I clicked to see what kind of nonsense she’d posted today that had probably gotten a few hundred-thousand likes.

The video was of her smiling at the camera.

I recognized the background as her room here.

She nibbled her bottom lip before whispering, “I just read the dirtiest text I’ve ever read in my life.

” She fanned herself. “I had no idea that mountain men could be so descriptive. I need to get out of the big city more often.”

I froze. Mountain men?

“If y’all want me to read another Tinder message, just like this video. If we hit half a million, I’ll read another. A million? I’ll read two!”

Tinder! Oh no.

Whatever calm I’d been feeling was replaced by a racing heart.

I clicked to sign off from my Instagram account and rushed back to my room—only to find Brock’s cell no longer under my pillow.

Damn it! I sprinted to Morgan’s room and found her sitting on her bed, holding her cell out and talking like she was recording.

“Where is it?”

She lowered her phone. “Where’s what?”

“Brock’s phone. I know you have it, Morgan.”

She pouted. “God, your face is so tense. You should try one of the meditation classes they offer here.”

“I don’t need meditation , Morgan. I need Brock’s phone !”

She rolled her eyes but opened the bedside table and slipped out the cell. “One of us had to go through it. You don’t know anything about this guy you keep sneaking out to see.”

“I’m not sneaking out to see Brock, and neither of us needs to know anything about his personal life.”

Morgan grinned. “Not even about the app he has that controls a vibrator remotely? Or the pictures of his giant dick and washboard abs? What about the texts from his ex that say she can’t stop thinking about how hard he fucks her?

At least let me tell you about those.” She looked down at her cell phone and turned it to show me the screen.

“Four-hundred-and-twenty-thousand people want me to tell them about the Tinder messages, and it’s only been fifteen minutes since I asked if they wanted to hear another one. ”

I frowned. “I can’t believe you think it’s okay to invade a person’s privacy like this. It’s wrong , Morgan.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. But if what that man wrote is wrong , I don’t want to be right .”

“You’re unbelievable,” I huffed and marched out of the room with the cell phone.

Morgan yelled after me. “Wait! What will I read to my followers? I promised them two more messages!”

“Here’s an idea…” I turned back to look at her. “Read them a goodbye note. Then turn your phone in to your therapist and actually try getting some help. Because I think you need it.”

***