8
Jessie
The scent of Brock lingered in my nose long after I left him behind, and I cursed myself for being such a b***h. I was the last soul he would see until summer’s end. I’d half expected him to ask me to stay for a while—f**k one last time which I probably could have been talked into regardless of his needing a shower and the fact I was on the rag—but that cabin on the hill held his attention even as we’d unpacked.
I knew he wanted to get up there and make his home. He hadn’t spared me a glance, making me feel as though I didn’t exist. He’d gotten what he wanted.
So did I, I told myself. A night I’ll never forget.
That strange ache settled into my chest again as I flew out of his cabin’s sight. Had he watched me leave, or had he immediately strode up the path the second I took o
