Page 6 of Defying Ella
Freedom, here I come.
CHAPTER TWO
Iparked the car outside the lodge and stared. The wooden structure loomed above me, surrounded by darkness but for the pool of light thrown by my headlights. The place was gigantic. I mean, I knew we’d be staying at a luxury lodge; you don’t make as much money as The Brightside did and buy a tiny cabin in the woods.
Still, I hadn’t been prepared for this. Huge windows framed the entire front of the building and a massive double door sat in the centre of the front deck. The place looked like it could contain at least fifty people. An exaggeration maybe but not by much surely?
Andy, The Brightside’s guitarist and pianist, owned the place, and he’d said there’d be more than enough space for the five of us.
We’d just assumed he meant ‘more than enough’ in normal people speak.
Having famous friends served us well. Who would have predicted that one?
The further I got from Munich the more my tense body relaxed and my mind settled. Two weeks without being constantly on edge, waiting for Jared to appear, wonderingwho he’d have on his arm, whether this time my stupid heart would get the move-on memo.
I couldn’t wait to spend my days relaxing between those walls with the girls. A little wine and loyal friends I could never have predicted adopting me into their circle. Before I left for Latin America, I didn’t realise I needed that. Now, I needed them so badly, even if they didn’t know how muddled my head was thanks to a certain drummer, and I’d do anything to protect my incredible luck.
Bracing myself for the cold, I shoved the car door open. The bitter air whisked in fast, stealing my breath and the residual warmth from a four-hour drive with the heaters blasting.
January in the Italian Alps. I think I’d be disappointed if the air didn’t bite.
Snow glistened at the edges of the drive, mercifully confined to that area and not the drive. The car was outfitted for it but I’d never driven on the stuff and that was one experience I would happily do without.
The front door swung open on silent hinges. Pitch blackness sat before me. I dropped my bag and fumbled for a switch. Every light blinked on blinding me for a moment. When the spots cleared, I gasped.
In my mind, lodge equalled wood from floor-to-ceiling, old-fashioned furniture, and leaky taps.
This was not that.
The wood remained a major feature of course, but there was nothing old about the place.
The entire level was wide open, framed by two huge walls of windows, one at the front and one at the back, displaying sweeping views down the snow-covered mountain. A swish kitchen lined one wall with a long breakfast bar decked out in marble and black cabinetry. On the opposite side, two sofas surrounded an open log burner with a fancy black flute thatrose above the living area, venting out through the roof, twenty feet above.
I needed a stronger word for it than breathtaking.
With a huge smile, I made my way down the stairs to the lower level to pick my bedroom and unpack as fast as humanly possible.
I had plans for that fire that included a book and a blanket.
And while I enjoyed all the stress-free amenities of the lodge, I fully intended to appreciate my true freedom from Jared. If I played my cards right and planned my time accordingly, I would never have to see him again. Never have to be reminded of the magical and unpredictable week we spent together.
I didn’t mean to nearly fall for a musician.
My mother had certainly warned me enough growing up. She would know. My dad was enough of a handful for all of us. Musicians and normal lives rarely melded together unless someone was willing to compromise. My parents struggled to find that balance and my sister only started to trust my dad in her life with Dan’s return.
In the end, I wasn’t different.
I thought a week of unexpectedly open conversation and off-the-charts chemistry meant something.
It didn’t, but at least now, I could firmly shut the door on Jared Michaels and his shiver-inducing smile.
Starting right now.
The fire crackled, the sound muted against the trickle of country music filtering through the built-in sound system. I repeat,built-in.
How freaking cool was that!
Mackenzie Porter sang about being replaced by anothergirl, while I luxuriated in the warmth of the flames and the just as heated book in my hands. The smuttier the book the happier I’d be and this one was on track to outdo all the rest. I loved it.
