Page 20 of Good Directions

I hit send on the text to my bestie and crash down on the queen-size bed, thankful for the day to be over. It was a lot more eventful than I anticipated. The soft, plush duvet greets me with open arms, the immediate comfort it offers like a warm hug.

When Miss Belle threw down the edict that I was going to stay with her at Magnolia Manor, she mentioned there were four and a half empty bedrooms. Yet somehow that didn’t fully register to me exactly how big this place would be.

A bright white, Victorian house with wraparound porch, large back deck, and built-in planters, it’s the perfect Southern home. Exactly what one pictures someone like Miss Belle living and raising a massive family in. I’m still trying to determine how one has half a bedroom though, since all the ones that Miss Belle showed me were actual full rooms.

She wasn’t kidding when she said the place was chaos, with all the furniture and other decor from the first floor gathered together in the middle of the room and covered in plastic getting ready for the painters, who were still hard at work when I got home today.

Yeah, lucky me.

I flop back on the bed, Anton’s words from earlier still stinging a little. I don’t know what’s worse, him asking me if I’m always that bossy or telling me I have no actual knowledge. Maybe the former…no, the latter. Fuck, I don’t know. They both sting.

Doubling down on that is that neither were said maliciously. In fact, he was laughing as he said both. And not mean laughing, but actual I think this is humorous laughing. Which is definitely worse. Because that means I’m just one big joke.

Letting out a sigh, I try and think of how to reply to Eliza. I need a change of subject. Sure, I started it, but that just means that I can end it. Move on to what Wall Bangers is doing for the Fourth of July. There we go; that will get her talking. Plus, it will distract me from Anton’s stupid smirk.

Except my phone buzzes, Eliza pushing forward.

I chuckle.

And…how do I want to put this?

Three dancing dots appear at the bottom of the screen, my heart fluctuating in time with their movement, waiting on her response. Knowing Eliza, she’ll have a good one. Actually, knowing her, she’s armpit deep in an Internet search of Anton Hayes, not only finding out what he looks like, but reading his professional bio and personal history.

Something I maybe should have done before arriving.

“Well, if this isn’t every one of my teenage dreams coming true.”

I yelp, my whole body jolting from the deep, Southern voice piercing through the silence. My phone goes flying, crashing to the floor in a series of thuds as it bounces along the geometric-patterned area rug. I look up and my heart stops, my throat as dry as the Sahara as I see Anton Hayes leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed, showing off those muscles again, stupid smirk cemented in place as he stares at me.

Did he sound that sexy earlier?

“What my sixteen-year-old self wouldn’t have done to walk in and find a pretty girl in my bedroom just waitin’ on me.”

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I exclaim, trying to right myself.

This isn’t happening…this isn’t happening…

There’s no way. Nope. I didn’t just magically summon Anton Hayes out of thin air simply by thinking about him. About how much I want to hit him. Or…shit, my phone!

Anton leans down, reaching for my phone, right as I lunge for it. By some miracle we don’t ram into each other. Probably because he gets to the device first, picking it up. I say a little prayer that my screen has gone dark, but I am not that lucky.

Glancing down, his eyes flick across the screen, and he lets out a little chuckle under his breath before handing it back to me. Well, fuck.

“Did you miss the part about it being my bedroom?”

“What?”

He smirks again, and this time, I’m sure. I want to punch him. Hard.

“Maybe the better question is what are you doing here?” he counters, standing back up again.

He feels larger than life from down here, my heart still racing, my brain trying even harder to keep up. Extending a hand, Anton nods, silently letting me know that it’s a peace offering. One I’m not going to take. I can stand on my own.

“I’m staying here.” I push to my feet, trying to make myself as tall as possible, which is still several inches shorter than he is. “Miss Belle invited me to stay here.”

Another chuckle. Fuck. Add that to the list of things that he has no business doing so well. Looking good and laughing.

“Oh, that sounds like something Mama would do.”