Page 5 of Drive Me Wild (Owl Creek #2)

I watch from the apartment window as Caleb and Buzz hug. Seeing a dad like Buzz makes me wonder what life would have been like if mine had stuck around.

My mother never talked about him. I know his first name and that he was an Alaska fisherman, and that’s it. There are no pictures of them together, no birthday cards that came in the mail, and no threatening looks when I went on my first date with a boy.

I stopped asking about him when I was young because my mom filled my world with as much happiness as she was able.

She worked hard and wasn’t always around, but we made it work.

We were a team. And then I met Renée, who taught me a ton of things that dads are supposed to teach you because she grew up in a house of boys.

I push the curtain over the window and walk to the bookcase to start unpacking. After all that people-time, I need some solitude. Solitude and a good book are how I recharge my battery.

I peel open the first box of books and run my fingers over the bindings.

These stories are my escape when I need it.

My inspiration. My passport to the world and everything I will never in a million years have enough time or desire to see with my own eyes.

Stories help me know people. They help me find compassion for people— even the ones I don’t like.

I get three of the six boxes emptied when I hear a gentle rapping on my door. I have to jump over my duffle bag of clothes to reach it, and open up to see Renée standing there with a food box.

“Sorry we haven’t had any alone time together today.”

“You had to play host.”

“I thought I’d bring you some essentials so you don’t have to come down to the house if you don’t want to.”

She steps inside, and I push the military green canvas duffle bags out of her way so she can get into the kitchen area. She pulls out a bag of pre-ground coffee, a small bottle of cream, a few bagels, butter, jam, and some leftovers from the party.

Renée turns from the counter and motions for me to come closer. She pulls me into a hug and holds me while we rock back and forth.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Zoe.”

“Me too.”

“And I’m really sorry to be the one to tell you the bad news.”

My body freezes as she whispers in my ear.

“We still don’t have internet in the apartment.”

We fall apart laughing, and she glides over to the bed, plunking down and looking around.

“Of course, you unpack your books first.”

“You know me well.”

“Did you have room in your car for anything else?”

“What else do I need in life?”

I sit on the floor where I had been standing. “Thank you for giving me a place to land. I need to figure some things out.”

“Like what?” She drapes herself across the bed and rests her head on one hand.

“Like, what am I doing with my life? You know? This is an important moment. A threshold I’m crossing over.”

“Wow. You make it sound serious.”

“It is serious. I will never move out of the house for the first time ever again. I will never be at a crossroads with my business ever again.”

“What do you mean, crossroads? I thought you’d figured out how to make things work after being banished from that evil online marketplace.”

“Even though I was able to build my own website and recover some of my clients, things haven’t bounced back, and I’m not sure…”

I look at the shelves. I brought more books than clothes, pictures, or anything else I had in my life back home.

“Okay. Here goes.” I suck in a breath and put words to the feelings I’ve been holding onto for months. “I’m not sure I want to sell digital downloads anymore. I’m not sure I want to build the educational empire I thought I was building.”

“You said that like you were afraid to tell me.”

I look up at Renée as she’s sliding off the bed to sit on the floor next to me.

“Are you afraid of what I would say?”

“God, no. Not exactly.”

“I don’t understand.”

I stare into my best friend’s eyes and wonder what she would think if she knew that last spring, I’d given voice to my feelings to another person.

Someone who wasn’t my trusted confidant but a man whose dark eyes and thick hands I could lose myself in—if only I weren’t trying to find my ‘forever man.’

While Renée was dealing with the aftermath of her ex-boyfriend showing up and making a scene at the Owl Creek summer season kickoff show, I was talking with Caleb. And I’d let it slip that I wanted to have more in my life than what came easy to me.

I don’t know why I told him, except that he had just stood by me to protect me in case things got crazy with Renée’s ex. He made me feel safe. So I blurted out something that felt unsafe to say aloud.

And ever since that night, I’ve allowed myself to dream that I could have something more. But instead of telling my best friend, I told no one. I hid it like a treasure I didn’t want anyone to know about so they wouldn’t try to steal it from me.

Because even though my business was successful until earlier this year, and it allowed me to save some money and help out my mom, it’s not something I love doing.

I’m just good at it.

People keep reminding me that I’m lucky and should be grateful that something comes easily for me. I didn’t have to go to college to create a business that sustains me. To want to give it up seems ludicrous to them.

But to me, it feels like evolution.

“I am afraid of being asked questions about what it would mean to give up my business. Because I don’t have answers.”

“You’ve never liked not having the answers.”

“No. I haven’t.”

“What do you want to do about it?”

“Not having answers?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to not talk about it yet. Now that you know, can we drop it? I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

She reaches over and squeezes my foot. “Of course. Now, I need to ask you an unrelated but very important question.”

“What’s that?”

“Want some of Cole’s famous berry pie?”

“How is that even a question?”

I’m up on my feet and grabbing my shoes before she can stand, mostly because she’s laughing so hard. I pull her up, and we head down the stairs to the yard that joins my apartment with the main house.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a scrap of paper tucked under my car’s windshield wiper.

I sneak it into my back pocket and trail Renée into the house.

I have a feeling I know who it’s from, and I don’t want anyone to remind me—again—why I should stay away from him.

All they see is a guy with a revolving door in his bedroom.

I see a thoughtful guy who lit up like a Christmas tree last spring when I told him I want more in life than what comes easy. It sounds silly, but I felt like he understood something about me at that moment.

So I’ll keep this note and my thoughts about him tucked away where no one can touch them.