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)
I bent to pick it up.
No way.
His phone.
CHAPTER 3
* * *
February
Seriously? No freaking password? Who the hell does that? Between the good-deed journal and now an unlocked cell phone, Lumberjack might as well have written all his secrets in a diary and handed it over.
Though I shouldn’t read it.
That would be another invasion of his privacy. Perhaps I could just check out the apps he had? Those weren’t too personal. Right?
I still felt a little guilty as I swiped from the home screen to the second page and perused the icons.
CNN News
Sports Line
Fitness Pro
Marathon Man
Home Depot
Tinder—Hmm… Interesting. Lumberjack has a hook-up dating app.
I stared down at the flame icon, feeling incredibly tempted to click in and see what type of women he swiped right on. But that would definitely be crossing a line. Yet my finger was still hovering over the app when Morgan popped her head into my room. Her eyes lit up when she saw the cell phone in my hands.
“You have a second phone, too?”
I shook my head. “Actually, this one is Brock’s.”
“Hot mountain man gave you his phone?”
“Not intentionally. I snuck out to return his flannel and little book. He wasn’t at the bar, but then on my walk back, I ran into him while he was walking his dog.”
“You just happened to run into him again?”
“I know. But he lives and works nearby, and his dog has to go out.” I shrugged. “Anyway, we talked for a few minutes, and after, he made me take the flannel he had on for my walk back. I’d left the other one with the bartender. The phone was in the pocket.”
“Jeez.” She sat down on the bed next to me and plucked the cell from my hand. It was still illuminated. “How did you get in? Didn’t he have a password?”
“Nope. No password.”
“That’s absurd. Who doesn’t have a password?”
I shrugged again. “Someone with nothing to hide?”
She started to scroll. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Uh...” I reached over and swiped the phone from her hands. “You certainly will not. If I’m not going to invade the man’s privacy, you aren’t either.”
“You’re seriously not going to check out what’s on his phone? A cell is a gold mine of information. If I’d had free access like this to any of the men I dated before we started dating, it would’ve saved me a lot of heartache.”
“I’m not planning on dating Brock.”
She grinned. “So just fucking him, then?”
“There will be none of that either. I’ll probably never see the man again.”
“Of course you will. You have to give him back that phone.”
***
Later in the afternoon, Lara, another patient I’d made friends with, came into my room. “Hey. You want to catch the five o’clock meditation class with me?”
“Yeah, sure.” I pretended to fix my bedding while slipping Brock’s cell phone under my pillow. I’d spent way too many hours staring at the thing today anyway. A little clearing of my mind was in order.
Meditation classes were taught by Trinity, one of the mental health therapists. She happened to be my therapist, so we already knew each other. She walked over while I was setting up my mat.
“Hey, February. How are you today?”
I smiled. “I’m doing well.”
“How have you been sleeping?”
“Eh. About the same.” Sleep had become an issue for me about a year ago. I could fall asleep, but I never seemed able to stay asleep. Even when I went to bed with a clear head, I woke up at two in the morning thinking about things going on at work or in my personal life. Insomnia was actually one of the reasons I’d snuck out to the bar the other night. I’d spent all day talking about the reasons I’d checked into Sierra Wellness Center, and I knew I’d be tossing and turning without a bit of liquid encouragement help me to drift off.
She smiled. “We’re going to do some exercises you can try at night before you go to bed. I’m glad you came today.”
“Me too.”
The class began with Trinity playing a Tibetan singing bowl. She asked us all to focus on the peaceful sound it made, taking three deep breaths in through our noses and breathing out through our mouths. Then she instructed us to take a moment to think about a happy place. My mind immediately went to having coffee with Brock in his apartment, which was bizarre since I barely knew the man, and waking up hungover with a shotgun pointed at me wasn’t exactly happy. But nothing else came to mind, so I went with it. Listening to the rhythmic hum of the bowl, I imagined myself in Brock’s bed again—how good he’d smell, how his big, protective body would keep me warm. I’d snuggle close while he lay on his back, and I’d rest my head on his thick chest. He’d stroke my hair while I listened to his heartbeat. I felt so peaceful, so relaxed.