Page 18 of Chosen
“I’m that good, huh?” I playfully repeated his words from earlier.
Damon smirked as he motioned for me to move away from the showerhead. “How about you let someone else have a turn underneath the water?”
* * *
“What’s this?”
After our shower, Damon and I headed back into the bedroom so I could get a jumpstart on unpacking my suitcase. It was something I would’ve typically done the night I checked into a place, but thanks to the storm and a host who’d been quite distracting, I hadn’t really touched my suitcase since we’d rolled it into the cabin.
I looked over at what Damon was talking about, now seeing that he was holding up one of my black mesh t-shirts. It was nearly see-through, something I usually only brought out when I wanted to seem a lot cooler than I felt or I was trying to impress someone I was interviewing for work.
“It’s just a shirt.” I shrugged. “Not something I probably should’ve brought on this trip, in retrospect. But you never know who you’re going to meet.”
“There doesn’t seem to be much to it…” Damon’s words trailed off. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen something like it before.”
“Probably because you spend your time doing healthy things like being out in nature,” I started. “Instead of holding a woman’s hair back in a dark club bathroom because she decided to do a shot challenge despite not being that big of a drinker—”
“That sounds—”
“Oh, I’m not done. The worst part is that you have no choice but to stay with her because she’s actually the girlfriend of the latest bored rich kid turned EDM DJ you’re doing the latest puff piece about. So, if you even think about leaving her, he’ll never sign off on the interview you never wanted to do in the first place.”
“Yep. I was right. That sounds awful.” Damon finally completed his sentence. “Doesn’t it get to you? Having to do stuff like that?”
“It eats me alive.” I let out a joyless laugh. “But I don’t have much of a choice. Not if I want to move up the ranks. Besides, people would kill for my job. They’d kill me for my job.”
“Still…,” Damon subtly nodded toward the shirt, “just doesn’t seem like you. The more you do stuff that’s not you, it gets harder to tell which parts real, and which parts are for other people.”
I plucked the shirt of out Damon’s hands. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a pretty good grasp on who I am.”
“An unapologetic city boy?” Damon suggested with a smirk.
“An unapologetic city boy.” I chuckled, setting the shirt down in an open drawer. I then looked back over at him with a warm smile. “But you know what they say. Opposites attract.”
6
DAMON
Storms were often a blessing in disguise.
Not because of the damage they caused but because they often forced people to stay still for a moment. In this case, the stillness had led to me looking around the cabin and realizing there were a few things that could’ve been fixed up. I started with some of the back windows, noticing they were on the verge of being jammed up. Windows were never too hard to fix when they were almost on the verge of a problem, but once they crossed the threshold, all bets were off.
Of course, the windows always seemed to lead me to the lights. I checked each and every one of them throughout the cabin, ensuring none of them were blinking, winking, or not working. Out of an abundance of caution I replaced a light that I knew had been in the cabin for years by now, knowing that it would be dimming sooner or later.
And, as always, the lights led me to the general electrical system, which led me to the plumbing system, which led me to an overall check of the cabin. I was genuinely shocked to find so little damage from the storm to the cabin’s exterior, counting it as a small blessing as I made my way back into the living room. The sun was setting behind me as I turned the corner, spotting Sam standing in front of the couch with a nervous look on his face.
“Sam?” I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Is everything okay?”
“That’s more of a question for you, don’t you think?” His tone was urgent. “You were looking over the place pretty much all day. I was worried something was wrong.”
“Just the opposite.” I smiled. “Everything looks great. Sorry if I worried you.”
“Not your fault.” Sam let out a loud sigh. “I just get antsy when I don’t know what’s going on, like, immediately. Probably something I should work on.”
Before I could respond, Sam turned back toward the couch. I watched as he stretched a deconstructed rainbow throw blanket across the cushions, making sure it looked nice and tidy. I spared a glance around the room, noticing that there were little bits of Sam everywhere. There were quirky mugs with quirky quotes, large candles with words like birthday cake written across the label, a stack of colorful books piled up on a nearby desk…
He’d somehow turned this cabin into his cabin in the time it’d taken me to check up on the place.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” I said, nodding along with my words. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen another guest put this much effort into the décor.”