she said under her breath.
“You know goddamned well that I’m here,” she heard King call from the kitchen. “Whose house do you think it is?”
Effie opened her mouth to fire off a snarky retort, but clamped it shut. She was starving, she was freezing, and the smell of the steak coming from the kitchen was irresistible.
King didn’t even look at her as she hovered in the kitchen doorway. Instead, he lifted the pan to keep coating the prime cuts in butter.
“So what’s the deal?” he asked, eyes still glued to the pan. “You show up at my cabin—break in, actually—”
“Excuse me, but I have a key?” she said, instantly irked. “And it’s not your cabin, it’s your family’s—”
“Actually, it’s in my name. Besides, I thought by now you might have grown out of the whole taking whatever you want from my family whenever and however you liked.”
Effie bristled. Back when they’d broken up, they’d never had the kind of intense fight that should have unfolded. When King had dumped her, it had been neat and fast. Effie often thought she’d been in shock, unable to react. By the time she’d started dating his brother, King was in Chicago, halfway across the state.
The neat transition from King to Thorne had been almost too easy.
“I—” she began, but King held up his hand.
“Forget it. So did you get him out of your system?”
“Who?” she asked, just to buy time.
She prayed he wouldn’t say his name. Just hearing Thorne’s name would send a fresh jolt of anger through her, but it was like a current. Buried deep. Maybe all the tears and the trek through the woods really had done some healing.
King let out a cruel laugh. “Three guesses.”
“It’s not that simple,” she said.
“I never said it was.”
From the living room, the dull murmur of the local news station suddenly became urgent.
“This is an emergency announcement,” a robotic voice said.
Without speaking, both of them rushed into the living room. Through the picture windows, there were fat flakes of snow beating angrily against the glass.
“Oh, my God,” Effie said under her breath.
“…travel advisory in effect…” the television warned.
“It’s sticking already,” King said as he peered out the window. “Shit.”
“No, no, no,” Effie said. “This can’t be happening, this can’t—”
“What the hell are you so upset about?” King asked. “You’re the one who randomly drove up to the woods when you know we’re the first place to get snowfall—”
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go!” Effie screamed.
She surprised both of them, and clapped her hand over her mouth as King’s eyes widened.
“Okay, I get it. Jesus,” he said.
The television flickered briefly and went black.
“The electricity—” she started, but King shook his head.
“The lights are still on, it’s just the television. I’ll get the emergency radio out.”
Effie struggled out of her coat and dumped it onto one of the thick leather chairs. She kicked off her shoes haphazardly. King, radio in hand, stopped and deliberately neatened up her shoes against the wall.
“We have a coat closet. In case you forgot,” he said, and looked pointedly at the coat.
“I’m sorry, how rude of me. I don’t mean to mess up your pristine cottage while we’re stuck in the middle of a freaking blizzard.”
Still, she picked up the coat and stomped to the hall closet. She knew she was acting like a spoiled brat, but she couldn’t help it.
First King had pissed her off, scaring the crap out of her like that in the morning. Acting like such a self-righteous jerk when she’d been so vulnerable.
But she knew it was really Thorne that deserved her rage, even though she couldn’t say she was surprised. There were clues, she’d just ignored them.
How he always changed the password on his phone and took it into the bathroom with him. The way he blatantly checked out waitresses or never texted back right away when he was on so-called business trips.
I’m a moron, and ignorance really is bliss. Or at least, it’s easier than paying attention.
She couldn’t get her mother’s words out of her head.
“Thorne’s so respectful!” her mother would gush. “Imagine that, offering to take care of all of us. What a gentleman—”
“Ugh,” Effie said as sunk into the couch.
King scanned the radio knobs to the clearest station. “… encourage those in the Chicago area, particularly in higher elevations, to batten down for the next twenty-four hours at least…”
“Well,” King said as he stood up. “Looks like it’s me and you, kid. It’s too late to make it anywhere now,” he said and looked back to the window. “It’s really coming down out there.”
“I’m supposed to be at work at seven in the morning,” she said. “The vet is going to be pissed if I don’t show up—”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have ran off into the mountains then,” he said, and looked over his shoulder at her. “I’d call the boss if I were you, tell them you’re going to be stuck here a few days at least.”
The last thing I want is to be stuck here with you, she thought. God. And all the crap I have to work out in the real world. Yaya, my mom, Thorne…
Just the thought of it all made her tired.
She worried her lip and took in his broad back as he faced away from her and gazed at the blizzard outside. It had been so long since she’d just taken him in like this. He was at once both familiar and a stranger.
There were things buried deep inside her memory that were suddenly brought back to life, like the small birthmark behind his right ear. Or the unbelievable V-shape which framed his hips that had become even more pronounced as he’d matured.
There were new things, too. Details that almost knocked the breath out of her. He’d always had a bit of a scruff in high school, but it had developed into a full-blown and permanent five o’clock shadow. His jaw had become even more square.
If this wasn’t King, the same King who
