Captured by Mr. Wild: Chapter 5
sight of Daisy swimming away this morning out of my head. She probably thinks I didn’t see her. Or hopes I didn’t. But I’ve lived on the lake for years. I know every sound that comes with the dawn. The ones that are always there, and the ones that aren’t—like the splash of my childhood friend diving into the water.
My childhood friend who grew up into a woman—with incredible breasts.
“Fuck this, Betsy. You want to go for a run, girl?”
Her ears prick up at the word ‘run’ and she leaps down from the sofa on the back porch and gives me an excited bark.
“That’s a yes, then?” I laugh as her tail hits me in the calf as she runs down the steps and looks back at me expectantly.
“Okay, girl. Let me grab my sneakers.”
We run for an hour. Through the woods behind the lake and up to one of my favorite viewpoints, set high on a rock edge. You can see all of Hope Cove from up there—its sandy white beach curling around the small-town center with its family-run businesses lining the street. It’s quaint; I guess. At least that’s what the tourists seem to think when they stay on their way to and from LA. The hotel set on the outskirts of town seems to attract the wealthier guests. Ones who aren’t opposed to paying inflated prices for a spa massage with hot stones.
I smirk. I spend days in the outdoors, covered in mud, and my skin is just fine. They should bottle that and sell it at fifty bucks a jar.
When we get back to the house, I check my phone. I leave it behind when me and Betsy go out. What’s the point in getting out in nature if you’re going to be answering calls and reading tweets and shit like that?
Trav: Hey, want to meet at Herbies later for a drink?
I smile as I reply.
Me: Kayla got no plans for you?
Trav: Nah, she’s off out somewhere.
Me: Sounds good. See you later.
“What do you reckon the deal is, then?” I ask Trav as I grab up a handful of peanuts from the bowl on the bar and drop them in my mouth.
“You know they find traces of urine in those, don’t you?” He raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head as I grab a larger fistful and shove them in, holding his gaze as I chew.
“You’re pure filth sometimes, you know that?”
“That’s what the ladies say.” I smirk, which earns me a chuckle.
“Whatever, man. That’ll be why you’re still single. You know married people get more sex than single people?” Trav lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a swig.
I turn to gape at him. “Who the fuck says?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Some study in one of those magazines that Kayla reads.”
“They obviously asked the wrong people.”
My gaze wanders over to Cindy, who’s serving another customer further down the bar. She tips her head back and laughs as the guy says something to her and slips her a fat tip.
I turn back to Travis. “I mean, you’re here, drinking in the one bar in town with me. Hardly having wild sex right now, are you?”
“Back at you.” Travis grins and then frowns as he looks past me at Cindy. “You two still hooking up?”
“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell, man,” I say, my eyes glancing back over to where Cindy’s twirling her light brown hair around her finger as she talks to the guy she just served.
“This is Hope Cove, Blake. There are no secrets.” He gives me a pointed look as I let out a sigh.
“It was one time. That’s it. We spoke about it, and I thought she agreed it was a one-off. But then she texted me yesterday. I was meeting you guys for dinner. And then Daisy showed up, and I went straight home after dropping her off. I didn’t even think much of it.”
Truth be told, me and Cindy were never anything other than a mistake. A momentary lapse. Two people looking for something else but finding each other for one night instead. Judging by the giggle that’s floating up from the other end of the bar, I’d say she’s over it too.
“Blake Anderson turning down a no-strings fuck. What did you do with my best friend, dude?”
“Jackass.” I shake my head and smile at him as I take a drink.
“So, what were you saying? Before we were side-tracked by piss-covered nuts and non-marital sex.” Trav looks at me as I place my beer bottle down on the bar and trace my fingers up and down its spout.
“Daisy, man. What’s her deal, do you think?”
“Don’t you mean Dee?”
“Exactly!” I blow out a breath as I look at him. “Don’t you think it’s weird? She goes AWOL online three years ago and then shows up here out of the blue, looking all different.”
“People change, Blake,” Trav says, looking over at me.
“Yeah, but like that? You remember her. She was… Daisy.” I blow out another breath as I rub a hand along my jaw, over my beard.
Trav shakes his head. “Fuck. I knew it. You never got over her leaving, did you?”
“It’s not that!” I fire back before grabbing my beer and downing half of it.
“Sure looks like it.” Travis raises his eyebrows as he watches me.
“She was our friend, Trav. She still is our friend. I just don’t like the feeling that something’s up with her. People don’t change that much, do they?” I turn to look at him and he shrugs his shoulders.
“Maybe some do.”
I turn back to my beer, my jaw tense as Cindy approaches.
“You staying for another?” she asks, cocking her head to one side, her heavily mascaraed eyes dropping over my chest and back up again.
Travis stands up and slaps a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll leave you to decide if you want a night-cap. Speak to you soon, man.”
“Yeah, catch you later,” I reply, avoiding Cindy’s gaze.
I tip my head back and drain the last remnants of my beer as she watches me.
“Not tonight.”
“Maybe next time?” She raises an eyebrow at me as I stand, dropping her eyes down to my crotch and back, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Your friend down the end there is missing you,” I say, jerking my thumb in the guy’s direction she was just giggling with.
She purses her lips. “He’s just another tourist, Blake. Here today, gone tomorrow.”
When I say nothing, she looks back into my eyes.
“I know you don’t mean it, Blake. We’re good together, you and me.”
I was wrong. She’s not over it.
Fuck.
I run my hand back through my hair and glance to the ceiling as though the magical solution to re-iterating our recent chat about our lack of future will appear before my eyes. She said she agreed with me. That she wanted more and knew I wasn’t willing to give it.
“Things change, Cindy. We’ve spoken about this,” I say softly, not wanting to hurt her.
She’s a nice girl. She’s just not my girl. She never has been.
“You say that. But people don’t change, Blake. Not really.” She looks at me with what seems like pity before turning and heading back down to the other end of the bar.
I leave Herbies and take the twenty-minute walk back to my house. Betsy jumps up from her place on the back porch and runs to greet me, panting in excitement.
“Hey, girl.” I bend down to ruffle her ears and kiss her head.
There’s a light shining behind her, across the other side of the lake, coming from Daisy’s kitchen window.
I stand and look over at it for a long time as Cindy’s words play over in my mind.
People don’t change, Blake.