Night Shift by Lauren Milson

Author:Lauren Milson
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-06-23T22:00:00+00:00

9

Leah

“Well,” I say, checking the fridge, “there’s no TV, no internet, the only beer in the fridge is from 1980, and it’s not exactly like we can leave. What did you guys do back in the stone ages?”

My silly quip elicits a chuckle from Maxwell, but not from Jonathan. Jonathan has been stone-cold ever since he tried to make a nice little shower for me and wasn’t able to, or maybe it was ever since I slipped into the lake and finally got a quiet moment all to myself. Or maybe it was after that - when Maxwell came outside to join him.

I go over each of those moments in my mind, trying to pinpoint where I could have gone wrong, but I don’t know what the hell I did.

Having Jonathan go cold toward me like this makes my heart ache, but I put on a smile. When he’s not happy, I’m not happy, and having him give me the silent treatment is like salt in an open wound. The wound was missing them.

“Hey,” Maxwell says over his shoulder, “maybe we can get a fire going when it gets a little later.”

“I’m gonna go check out the firewood situation,” I say, “oh, and maybe some of those candles from earlier.”

I add the last bit to try to get Jonathan to look at me. Instead, he keeps his gaze straight ahead and grunts over at me. I feel my eyebrows knit in the middle and my lips pull into a straight line. His hands are knotted together tightly in his lap. Maybe he’s just preoccupied. I mean, I can’t blame him. If I didn’t have so much faith in him and Maxwell to keep me safe, I’d probably be freaking out on the inside, too.

I hear Maxwell get up from the couch behind me and follow me to the back of the house.

“You don’t have to help, I’m capable,” I say to him.

“I know you are, but I just feeling like joining you,” he replies. He puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me out the back door. Goosebumps plump up over my arms from having his hand above the swell of my ass. I spot a stack of firewood about thirty feet away and start over toward it.

I should ask Maxwell what’s wrong with Jonathan. I wouldn’t dare ask Jonathan himself, but Maxwell, I can ask.

“Hey,” I say as I bend over to take a look at the stack of firewood to check for bugs. When I’m satisfied there aren’t any, I grab a piece and hand it to Maxwell. “Did I do something to offend Jonathan? He’s acting weird, he’s barely talking to me, he will barely even look at me.”

“Nah,” Maxwell says, “you know how he can get sometimes. I think he’s just trying to figure out what’s going on. We all are.” There’s a slight pause and I look up at him as the expression on his face becomes a little darker. “Actually, he did kind of mention that you were sneaking around in our room.

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