Kiss and Don't Tell(18)

Leveling with Taters, I say, “Hey, dude, just because your girl was a bitch to you doesn’t mean every girl is a bitch.”

“I choose to be proven wrong,” Taters says, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

I roll my eyes and turn to Hornsby, the reasonable one in the group. “Her car is in a ditch; not sure she’s going to be able to get it out anytime soon. Remember when Posey’s car needed to be jumpstarted? The tow truck wouldn’t come up here until the roads were completely dry, right?”

“Yeah, the guy doesn’t risk it.”

“That’s what I thought,” I say. “I’m pretty sure she’s fucked for a bit, especially since the forecast is calling for more rain tonight.”

“Yeah, I thought about that.” Hornsby looks off to the side. “And when the Internet came back on, I checked on a few reasonable places around town, and they’re all booked.”

“Uh, what’s happening here?” Taters asks, cutting in. “What I think is happening, better not be happening.”

“Come on, Taters,” I say. “She’s in a foreign country—”

“It’s Canada. It’s not as if she was dropped off in Dubai without a wallet.”

“It’s still a foreign country. She seems to be on a mission. I don’t know for what, but she doesn’t seem to be smart about it. What are you going to do? Force her into town and hope she finds a place to stay, even though she won’t have a car?”

“She was asking for adventure . . .”

“You’re such an asshole,” Hornsby says. “Jesus, dude, it’s not going to kill you to have her around for a few days.”

“Yes, it will, it’ll kill my vibe.”

“And what vibe is that?” I ask. “Sulking in the corner, pissing people off, and then later on apologizing as you rest a beer on your stomach?”

“As a matter of fact, that’s the exact vibe I was going for.”

“You can still be like that, but with her here.” I didn’t think I was going to have to push Taters on this so much. On the walk back, I considered the idea of asking him if she could stay, not for my benefit—because I’m really not getting anything out of this—but because Winnie doesn’t seem to know what she’s doing. She seems lost . . . alone. I think she needs help, she just doesn’t quite know how to ask for it.

“No, I can’t rock out with my vibe with her here. What if I want to fart? I’m going to have to excuse myself so I can fart in my own house.”

“Seriously?” Hornsby asks. “That’s what you’re worried about? Farting?”

“And other things. What if I bring a girl back here?”

I scoff. “When have you ever brought a girl back to the cabin?”

“Never, but it’s nice to know I have the option.”

“You can still bring a girl back to the cabin. Jesus. She’s on the opposite end of the cabin and since she’s already terrified of you, I’m sure she’s going to do everything possible to stay out of your hair.”

Taters straightens up. “She said that? She’s terrified of me?”

“Yeah, you fuck,” I say. “You made quite the impression on her last night. And it wasn’t a good one.”

You can see the moment his conscience kicks in because the dent between his eyes eases and his shoulders slump. “Fuck, you know I don’t like being known as the bad guy.”

“Then don’t act like one. Extend an olive branch. It seems as if she needs one right now.”

He looks between us and then asks, “You don’t think this is all a little odd? I mean, what woman in her right mind comes to a random house, full of five huge hockey players, stays the night, and acts as if everything is okay?”

I stare down the hallway and say, “I think someone who might be lost, that’s who.”

“Order up, man,” Stephan says, sliding a steaming skillet on a trivet across the kitchen island. He tosses me a fork and I catch it with one hand.

“Maybe it’ll give you some good karma,” I add. “Opening up your home, that shit comes back around. Who knows, maybe you two might hit it off?”

Taters laughs. “Yeah, I’m sure you wouldn’t even let any of us get close enough to her to let that happen.”

I hold up my hands. “I lay no claim.”

“That’s why you were up this morning and out of the house before any of us were allowed to say good morning,” Taters taunts.

“Not true,” I say, scooping up a pile of scrambled eggs mixed with cheese, peppers, and hash browns. “Holmes was up this morning before me. He was probably waiting to make his move.”

Hornsby laughs under his breath. “That would be the fucking day. The man barely talks to us. Pretty sure he’s not going to be talking to a random girl who came crashing into our house late at night.”

“And even if he did, it’s not as if you gave him a chance. Holmes told us he told you to put a shirt on but you refused to.”

“Oh, fuck off, that’s what he told you guys?” I shake my head and take another bite. “I told him I didn’t think she was going to be awake that early. I wasn’t intentionally trying to be bare-chested in front of her.”