Page 3 of The Renter

“Of course. You probably know where they are better than I do,” I say, trying not to stare at her petite, very distracting frame. “I arrived yesterday.”

“Thanks, seriously,” she says, opening the white cabinet next to the farmhouse sink and stretching onto her tiptoes.

Get a hold of yourself, I mentally warn.

She grabs fish-themed cups from the middle shelf. “I promise I won’t bother you again,” she says, heading for the door.

Please,do, I think. She’s stunning. Should I invite her to stay? But I can’t tell how old she is, and the last thing I want is to come off as a creep. My mind races.

“Anytime,” I manage, immediately feeling embarrassed that’s all I could come up with.

She smirks and walks out.

3

“Guys, you will not believe what happened,” I squeal as my feet hit the dock, running from the cottage to the pier. “I just barged in on a fucking hot man!” I yell. “There’s a renter!”

All my girlfriends squeal and start talking at once, but one voice cuts through.

“Get your ass back up that hill and invite him on this boat,” Kelsey—my best friend for so many reasons—demands.

“Tell us everything,” Sarah says with a smirk.

“You guys know my type,” I remind them with a shrug.

“So, he’s not blond.” Sarah laughs.

“Get out of here,” Kelsey chides, pulling down her sunglasses to flash me a mischievous look. “No fucking way there is a six-foot-two, brown-haired, blue-eyed buff guy at your aunt’s house right now.”

I smirk.

“Again.” She waves her arm toward the house. “Get your ass back there.”

“I didn’t know what to do!” I laugh, still breathless from sprinting down to the lake after that encounter. “I barged in and was completely stunned that someone was there—and a hot someone. Honestly, I have no idea what I said. You’re all lucky Imanaged to grab these.” I pass out the cups, and Kelsey divides the chilled white wine between the four of us.

“We all know you won’t be getting any ass living at home, and here is an opportunity on a silver platter,” Sam adds, leaning back in her seat. She glares at me, saying without saying she knows I need this.

Not all of us can be in long-term, great relationships like her. I’ve never even had a healthy one. I’ve had one boyfriend. Well … that’s a lie. I’ve had one chaotic attachment, Sorin, and that was a disaster.

“Seriously, when was the last time you got laid?” Kelsey asks, adjusting her barely there “tanning bikini.”

“Well …” I say, my voice trailing off sadly.

“For fuck’s sake,” Kelsey nearly screams. “You need to get off this boat right now and tap that.”

“We’ll wait,” Sarah adds with a laugh.

“Cheers to that,” Sam says, raising her glass. I shake my head, knowing how serious they are.

“Yeah, right!” I start the boat, and my friends untie the ropes from the pier.

As we cruise across the lake at a good pace toward our favorite tanning spot, Big Foot Beach, I think about how ridiculous it is that I’m back here for the summer. I made a lot of bad decisions to end up in this place again.

Why do I always lose myself in the addiction of the moment? Shirts was a three-year, all-consuming obsession, my chance to get rich—if only it had worked out. But when the menswear company couldn’t make payroll in April, I was unemployed, unable to pay rent, and unhappily facing the reality that I couldn’t afford to stay in Chicago.

Suddenly, I became the living embodiment of everything I said I’d never be: unsuccessful and broke. But to everyone’ssurprise—especially mine—my parents offered to let me stay with them until I got back on my feet.

Who could forget the Summer of 2017? Not me and definitely not my parents. When I was twenty, my fling with a local drug dealer and hot mess of a man—Sorin—almost ruined me. I nearly skipped studying abroad to stay with him. I shake my head, thinking about that summer, my last summer in Wisconsin,