Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
“But I’m still not going to be able to reach the window.”
“Just do it.”
My foot had barely touched the bumper when Brock hoisted me into the bed. He walked over near my window and kneeled down on one knee. “Get on my shoulders. I’ll lift you.”
“Are you sure? I’m not as light as I look.”
“I lift logs bigger than you all day long.”
“Okay…”
Brock held out a hand, and I climbed up to sit on his shoulders, trying to be as ladylike as I could while wearing a dress. But once I was on, he didn’t move. “Am I too heavy?”
“Nope.”
“Are you afraid you’re going to fall?”
“Nope.”
“So why aren’t you moving?”
He cleared his throat. “Are you…not wearing underwear?”
Oh.
My.
God.
I wanted to die. I’d completely forgotten that I had taken off my pee-peed underwear earlier in the bathroom. Here I was, legs over this man’s shoulders with my vagina pressed against the back of his neck. I started to swing my leg off to get down, but he gripped my ankle.
“We made it this far. Might as well finish.”
I covered my face. “I seriously want to die right now.”
Before I could say anything else, Brock climbed to his feet. I wobbled but stayed on. “Go ahead,” he said. “Stand on my shoulders, and you should be able to reach.”
“Do you promise not to look up?”
“I managed to not turn around and bury my face between your legs, so I think we’re in the clear.”
Oh my. That gave me a visual. Me facing the other way, my legs dangling down big, burly lumberjack Brock’s back, while he buried his face in me…
“Anytime now,” Brock grumbled.
“Oh—right.”
Luckily, my window was still open, and when I stood on his shoulders, it was easy enough to climb in. After, I stuck my head back outside. “Thank you for…everything.”
He chuckled. “Take care, Red.”
I stayed at the window and watched Brock the burly lumberjack get back into his truck. As it pulled away, I felt oddly sad. Though people here had to be looking for me by now, so I grabbed a change of clothes from the drawer and ran into the bathroom to get dressed, only to realize I was still wearing Brock’s flannel. It wasn’t even off when someone knocked at my room door. Shit. “I’ll be out in a minute!”
I finished changing as fast as I could, then scooped all the clothes from the bathroom floor and opened the cabinet under the sink. As I tossed everything inside, something dropped to the floor. A little book. My dress didn’t have pockets, so it must’ve come from Brock’s flannel. I reached for it and thumbed to the first page.
“Oh…this is interesting.”
CHAPTER 2
* * *
February
“What do you think is the purpose of that book?” Morgan asked, twirling a lock of her blond hair.
“I’m not sure.”
I’d just finished telling my new friend at the center about the little book I’d found in burly Brock’s flannel shirt. He seemed to enter the date and a note for each day of the week. Things like: Helped an old lady cross the street and Changed a tire for someone on the highway. He appeared to be keeping track of good deeds or something.
“The last one was the best!” Morgan teased.
I rolled my eyes. “So embarrassing.”
Took in a silly, drunk woman before she got herself killed.
“I need to start sneaking out of this place, too,” she said. “Find my own hot lumberjack. Does he have any brothers? It’s way more fun out there than in here.”
Morgan Flowers was a twenty-two-year-old influencer staying at Sierra after a near nervous breakdown that had warranted a social media hiatus. Despite her massive number of followers, Morgan had a lot of anxiety when encountering actual people in real life. Her stay at Sierra was an attempt to become more grounded, placing more value on herself and less value on the opinions of those on the Internet. So far, she’d done almost nothing but vlog the experience for the future entertainment of none other than—you guessed it—internet strangers.
“Do you mind turning the camera off when we’re talking about my personal life?” I scolded.
She adjusted her lens. “I’m not going to use the sound. It’s just B-roll for my vlogs. You’ll be a silent talking head beneath my commentary.”
“Doesn’t it go against the privacy policy here to be taking so much footage?”
“Since when are we following the rules, Miss Ladder Climber?” She giggled. “Or should I say Commando Hot Lumberjack Climber? Anyway, not sure about the camera rules. I never specifically asked, and I sort of smuggled the equipment in. As long as you’re okay with me showing your face. And I thought you said you didn’t mind, that we don’t have anything to be ashamed of by being here?”
“We don’t, but that doesn’t mean I want a camera shoved in my face every five seconds. I didn’t realize how attached to that thing you’d be.”