Chapter Twenty-Four

Alex headed behind the shack to the old wood pile. He had to dig through it for logs that were dry enough to burn and not covered in moss. As he worked, he took in the view. The shack was even more dilapidated than it had been in his youth, when he'd helped his father keep it patched together with wood glue and tape.

He would have done anything to get out of here when he was a boy. He'd devoted himself to study, to achievement, in order to pull himself out of this dark hole of poverty. But the physical conditions hadn't been the worst part. No, the worst had been his father's chaotic rule.

Alex had felt so helpless, unable to do anything but watch as his mother gave up on life and succumbed to a sequence of chronic illnesses. Impotent to stop his father's drinking, his seemingly instinctive cruelty. So he'd worked hard and escaped, only to fall into another trap.

Even as his father had taken all his choices from him in childhood, in college he'd found himself still living under someone else's rules. In order to climb the ladder of success, he'd had to reign his true self in. He was no more free in the box he'd put himself in during his adult life than he was a child. But he was the one who was limiting himself, and there was no one else to blame.

But no longer. Alex would now live life on his own terms. As long as those terms included Lila.

Picking up several logs, he headed back around to the front of the shack. He bustled inside, tossing the logs down next to the rusty stove, then rummaged around in the kindling box. Before long, a fire was going in the stove's belly and light was coming into the room.

Alex pulled back a few curtains, then returned to Lila. "This is it."

Lila nodded, her eyes scanning the room, taking in everything but not meeting his own gaze. Strange. Alex pointed out the sleeping loft, where his sisters had all slept in two queen-sized beds. Then he showed her down the hall, to the cramped rooms in the back. One had belonged to his parents, the other to him.

As the only boy, he'd graduated to his own room. It was the size of his walk-in closet back in Portland, room only for a twin bed and a dresser. But it had been his refuge for most of his teenage years.

Back in that old room, he stood there, taking it in, not saying anything. Lila stood beside him, equally quiet. After a few moments he led her back to the main room and the warmth of the stove.

They stood in the silence, Lila holding her hands toward the fire to heat them up. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked after a while.

Alex met her eyes. Eyes that shined like molten gold in the firelight. "I wanted to show you where I came from." His face softened, growing thoughtful. "I know that back home I wear expensive suits and live in a house that could fit several of these shacks inside it. But I came from here." He jerked his head, indicating his humble surroundings. "And as much as I've tried to bury that fact, I don't want to hide it anymore, not from you."
Lila looked pensive. "I appreciate you showing me this."

The fire started to dim and Alex saw no reason to add another log. He took Lila's hand in his own and led her outside, re-securing the padlock and escorting her back to the car. As they drove down the long gravel drive, he snuck a peek at her.

She was silent, staring out the window, her face a closed book.

"I was hoping we could spend the day together." His hand crept across the seat to capture hers. "Maybe I could show you around the Hollow."

"It's a tempting offer," she said, her pitch high and unnatural, "but I have to decline. We fly out tomorrow, and I have to pack. I'd also like to rest, as I assume we'll have to leave pretty early to make it back to Atlanta for the flight."

Alex couldn't believe the words he was hearing. It was barely noon. "I'll have you back early."

Lila shook her head and pulled her hand out of his grip. An expression of hurt flashed across her face, so fast he almost missed it.

"Lila, what's going on?"

"Nothing," she croaked. "I just want to rest."

"Bullshit." He scowled, wondering what was going on in her beautiful head. "What's wrong?"

"This!" she said at last, the words coming out in a loud burst. "This is wrong. I don't know what we're doing here. I don't understand what's changed."

"You don't understand?" He fought to keep the frustration and anger out of his voice. "I want to be with you. I want to spend time with you."

"For how long?" Her bottom lip quivered, but her eyes flashed fire. "I know you like relaxing around me and letting your roots show, but when we get back to Portland, it's not going to be the same."

"Lila--"

"No," she interrupted. "You're still you, rich, handsome Alexander Drake. And I'm still me, overweight and now unemployed. Those two people don't belong together."

"Nonsense!" His irritation was building. "I want to be with you!"

"So we go back then and carry on, that's your plan?" Her face was strained, and Alex prayed that she wouldn't start crying. He'd lose it if she started crying. "Keep our fucking a secret this time and nobody gets hurt?"

"That's enough!" He jerked the car over to the side of the road and slammed to a halt. "It won't be like last time."

"It will. Nothing's changed. And I won't pretend it has. I can't be what you need. I'm never going to fit in with your set, and I can't keep sneaking around. I won't. But I won't be badgered by the press either. It would never work--"

"Lila." His voice was a rough whisper. Alex slid an arm behind her head and with the other hand, pulled her face to his. "Stop fighting this."

A tear spilled down her cheek and he groaned. Goddammit. He pressed his lips to hers, demanding that she accept him, that she submit to his affection.

Her lips were still beneath his, her mouth closed. She didn't move, except to sniffle lightly.

Alex pulled away, helpless as her tears fell. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Take me back to the rooming house. Please."