Hot Rival ( jenlisa ) ( Gip )

20

Lisa

I stare down at the long pieces of wood, propped up against the wall of my workshop. It's a beautiful stack, all pieces of weathered maple from an old farm a few towns over. The place was being torn down, but I'd arranged to get in a few months ago and salvage some of the wood. I've had it in mind to make something special for Libby's birth, but things have been a blur ever since Jackson had announced he'd be taking a paternity leave. The wood has been sitting out here in my shop since then, taunting me every time I walked out here.

Now I have plenty of time and no inspiration of what to do with it. Libby already has a crib and a changing table, and they have all her tiny little clothes folded into one of our Loft Barn dressers. What else does a baby need? I thought about making her a playhouse but it would be awhile before she'd be able to use something like that.

I grab one of the planks and throw it on the workbench. I eye it from every end, trying to get it to send me a message of some kind. I know it sounds hokey, but when you work with wood enough, you can sometimes get a feel of what it wants to be. Half of my best designs have come from just listening to the materials in front of me, feeling the shapes that were already writ inside of them.

This one though — I'm getting nothing. I flip it over, examine it from end to end, but it stays stubbornly silent.

I suppose it's my fault for being distracted — ever since last night, I haven't been able to think of anything but Jennie. Of the way her face broke when I told her we had to stop seeing each other. Of the way it had felt to kiss her, knowing it would be the last time.

And of the breath of cold fear in my stomach when Kelsey had walked in on us.

When I'd kissed Jennie, I'd allowed myself a moment to think that I was making a mistake. That things weren't as dire as I was making them out to be, that we could just go on the way we had been, keeping our relationship quiet and spending stolen weekends out here at the farmhouse. Then Kelsey had surprised us, and I realized exactly why ending it with Jennie was the right decision. It was just too risky. There was too much at stake.

I shake my head. Kelsey had promised not to say anything — I had to trust that she would keep her word. There was nothing else to do.

I'm just about to flip the plank over a second time when my phone rings. I keep it on the far end of the workshop so that it doesn't get too dusty while I'm working, so I jog over to grab it before it goes to voicemail. As soon as I pick up the phone, my stomach clenches.

It's Jennie.

I stare down at the phone for a second, debating whether I should even answer or not. But something in my gut says she isn't the type to call for no reason. And besides, I kind of want to hear her voice. Just this once.

"Hi," I say. There's a pause on the other end of the line.

"Hi," she says finally. Her voice sounds strained.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Have you been on Instagram?"

"Have I...? No, why?"

She sighs. "I'm surprised your phone hasn't been pinging out of control the way mine has. Hang on, I'm going to send you this."

"Send me what?"

"Just a sec."

There's a fumbling on the other end of the line and then my phone buzzes in my hand.

"Go look," she says.

I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment and see the new text notification that must be from Jennie. It's an Instagram link, and when the picture loads, I suck in a breath.