Better Not Love Me by Dan Kolbet Read Free Book Online Page B

once. A feeling of sadness and remorse wafted over her. Her legs, which had been pumping hard on her run, were now stiff and weak.
    She didn’t realize that she still felt so strongly for Edwin. She’d done such a good job of pushing his memory from her mind all these years by pushing down and ignoring the pain. Maybe that was her problem. She had never really come to grips with these emotions. She’d moved on to Josh and that relationship had failed—again. Then she threw herself into her work at Mr. Z's, but that ended in disaster too.
    What was next? She didn’t know how to answer that.
    She stood up and stretched, then began a slow jog back down to the cabin. This time she didn’t turn on her music.
    She was left alone with her thoughts and regrets. And she didn’t like what she heard.
     
    * * *
     
    As Amelia descended the gravel road she first made out the top of her own cabin, then Nate's. As she took the last turn she could see the other cabin too. The weeds in the driveway were still long and there had clearly been no visitors to the place, which was odd considering the prime location and popularity of the lake itself.
    Just as Amelia got to the driveway, something caught her eye. She stopped and turned toward the moving object, just in time to be hit in the leg with a car tire. She winced in pain. The tire had been moving fast and rolled up her running shoe before colliding with her shin. She was startled, but not really hurt. She followed the trajectory of the tire and could see it had come from the driveway of Nate's cabin.
    Did that little jerk try to hit me with a tire?
    She picked up the empty tire and began to march up the "little jerk's" driveway. When she got to the top of the hill she was surprised to find a large pile of lumber and dozens of bags of concrete mix. Nate was nowhere to be found. He was probably hiding and watching her right now, she thought.
    She walked around the long straight lengths of lumber. Whatever project the material was for must be significant.
    The screen on the side garage door slammed shut as Nate exited carrying a cup of coffee.
    "You trying to steal my tire?" he asked, taking a sip from his mug.
    "What? No. It attacked me!" she shouted.
    "Yeah, you know those tires. I've heard about them. Got a mind of their own," he said, without a hint of sarcasm.
    "No, it rolled down the hill and hit me," she said.
    "Of all the things that tire could have hit, it decided to go after you. Hmm. Do you believe in karma?" Nate asked.
    "I believe that you rolled this thing down that hill at me," Amelia said, her voice trembling as she continued to clutch the tire.
    "OK, let’s work your theory for a minute. I woke up this morning. Got dressed. Made my coffee and watched a little SportsCenter. All perfectly timed so I could walk out here and roll a tire 75 yards down my own driveway. Now, mind you from here, I can't see the bottom of the hill anyway. So I must have practiced it over and over. Then, just when I knew you'd be loitering there, I just let it go and hoped for the best. Then I went back inside and poured myself this coffee, only to return to the scene of the crime moments later. Is that about what happened?"
    Amelia turned and looked down the hill. She couldn’t see the bottom of it. But she wasn't going to let him off that easy.
    "Well, it still hit me," she said.
    "And for that I'm sorry. I will ground that tire immediately, but not before I give it a stern talking to. But I'll be honest, tires don't always listen. You're going to need to keep an eye out for this one. He might attack again."
    "Don't be a jerk," Amelia said.
    "Hey, I'm just trying to figure this thing out. But I'm not a detective."
    Amelia realized she still holding the tire. Her arms were beginning to shake.
    "Well, here's your tire back," Amelia said, slamming the tire down. It rolled and spun on gravel driveway before coming to a rest.
    "Thank you," he said. "Can I ask you something?"
    "I guess," she