Stuck With Me: A With Me in Seattle Universe Novel

by Melissa Brown

  A small pang of guilt sank in my stomach. “Yeah, sure.”

  I ended the call and tossed my phone on the bed. Closing my eyes, I drifted off into a preoccupied sleep.

  About an hour later, I woke up, just as hungry as I was before my phone call. Pulling myself off the bed, I decided to check the kitchen for snacks.

  Instinctively, I opened the refrigerator and was surprised to see a takeout box. For a second, I thought whoever stayed here before us had left it behind and housekeeping had overlooked it. But then I noticed the message written in ballpoint pen.

  TRUCE?

  -L

  Opening the container, I found the rest of my pancakes and large plastic containers filled with syrup. As annoyed as I was with her, I was touched by the gesture. My stomach growled in anticipation as I opened the cabinet to grab a plate. After heating them in the microwave, I took a seat on one of the leather upholstered barstools.

  Just as I was dousing my pancakes with the syrup Lyra had included in the box, I heard the key card click in the door. Lyra froze in place when she saw me, her smile fading as our eyes locked in place.

  “Oh good, you found them,” she said as she quietly closed the door.

  “Yeah, that was, um….that was nice of you. Thanks.”

  Lyra shrugged, looking away for a second. “I mean, you hardly touched them. I figured you were hungry.”

  “I was starving,” I said with a small laugh. “And a truce sounds…well, it sounds okay to me.”

  Her face lit up more than I ever would have expected from Lyra. Her usual expressions were annoyance and absolute disgust whenever I opened my mouth.

  I guess she really feels bad.

  Normally I’d try to milk it, push her to see what other things I could manipulate her to do while she was motivated by her guilt. But I decided against it. Instead, I just ate my pancakes and offered her a genuine smile.

  She walked to the counter and pressed her hands into the granite. “So, I made this friend on the bus, and she and I just got back from wandering the hotel. We stopped at the front desk and got to talking with the concierge. Turns out the storm is taking a break.”

  “Really?” I asked with a mouthful of sugary pancakes.

  “Mmm-hmm,” she said with a playful grin. A dimple formed on her right cheek. I’d never noticed that.

  “Does that mean Pete and Maren can actually get here?”

  A crease formed between her eyes. “Well, no.”

  “Oh.” I took another bite in defeat.

  “But it does mean they’re opening a couple of the runs. Wanna show me your skills?”

  In a split second the pancakes in my gut felt like a thousand-pound weight.

  That’s right, you told her you were an awesome skier. Dumbass.

  “I don’t know,” I said, trying to sound casual, impassive. “I mean, you’ve never skied before, right? Not sure this is the best time to learn.”

  “I do have an awesome teacher at my disposal, right? You can show me the ropes.”

  Fuck.

  There was no way in hell I was going to lose the upper hand that I currently held with Lyra. And if I admitted to lying about my skiing ability, I knew that was exactly what would happen. So I went with it. Like an idiot.

  “Sure, yeah, but, uh…” I said, my pulse picking up speed. I cleared my throat and stood tall, not wanting to show concern or weakness or any of that shit. “We should definitely start on the bunny hill. With the storm and everything, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me,” Lyra said, her smile bright. But somehow I knew that smile would run the hell away from her face once she knew I was a phony. I could only hope she’d hate skiing, and I’d be off the hook. Either that or I could pray for more snow. A lot of it.

  “I’ll get changed,” she said, walking to her bedroom with an excited spring in her step.

  “Fuck me,” I muttered, taking one last bite of pancakes before dropping my fork to the plate and forcing myself to change my clothes and brave the slopes.

  It was surprisingly beautiful outside when we emerged from the lodge. The sky was surprisingly beautiful and the sun shined so bright that the untouched snow shimmered and sparkled.

  “Are we the only ones out here?” Lyra asked, looking around our immediate area.

  “Uh, maybe we should take that as a sign.”

  Lyra shook her head. “Nah, we’re just doing the bunny hill, right? Until I get comfortable.”

  Right.

  “It should be right over…” Lyra put on her sunglasses and turned to survey the area. “There!”

  For someone who made a habit of skiing, I was sure this hill would be a joke. The slope itself was remarkably gradual, and there was a rope to help you pull yourself back up to the top without falling. Slowly, Lyra and I made our way over to the hill—our feet thumping in the thick snow as we adjusted to walking in the giant metal appendages on our feet.

  Why the hell do people do this? Never in my life have I felt this physically awkward.

  “And look, we’re not the only ones. There’s a family already on the bunny hill.”

  “Lovely,” I muttered under my breath as I watched a five-year-old glide down the hill like it was nothing. If I was more of a positive person, watching that little ankle-biter master such a feat would make me feel better, more confident. But it didn’t, because I knew if I couldn’t do this, I’d be shown up by a kindergartener.

  “Did you say something?” Lyra asked, tilting her head to the side.

  “After you,” I said with a fake smile.

  We walked stiffly to the bottom of the bunny hill just as the little boy and his mom came flying down the hill, making it look easy.

  You just made my shit list, kid.

  “Go ahead,” I said, gesturing to the rope when we finally reached the bottom of the hill.

  “Any tips?”

  “Grab the rope and hold on as you walk up the hill.” I did my best to sound as sarcastic and belittling as possible so she wouldn’t doubt my skiing ability.

  “Okay, smart-ass. I was just asking.” Lyra moved her sunglasses down to the bridge of her nose. “And what the hell? We have a truce, remember?”

  I shook my head and wrinkled my nose in contrition. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

  Just then, my cell rang from the pocket of my parka.

  “You brought your phone?” Lyra tilted her brow, looking at me in disbelief.

  “Yeah. I feel naked without it.”

  “Good lord.”

  I ripped my glove off and unzipped my pocket to grab my phone.

  “It’s Pete. I gotta take this,” I said as I maneuvered myself to turn around and walk a few steps away from Lyra.

  “Dev, c’mon.”

  “Two minutes!” I said, still thumping away in my skis. I needed a little bit of privacy.

  “Fine,” Lyra huffed.

  I answered Peter’s FaceTime call. “Pete!”

  “Wait, are you outside? Dev, where are you?”

  “Uh…” I turned the phone so he could see the slopes. “Just checking out the powder.”

  “Dude, you’re gonna break your neck!”

  “Keep your voice down. Lyra doesn’t know I’ve never skied.”

  My friend’s eyes widened, and he laughed behind his hand. “Well, it won’t take long for her to catch on.”

  “Shut it. Tell me what to do.”

  “Go back inside.”

  “I can’t! I promised her we’d do the bunny hill or some shit. We got in an argument, and we’re both trying to make nice, you know, since we’re stuck here.”

  “I see.”

  “So, what’s the prognosis, man? Are you coming or not?”

  “Not likely. The road up there is a disaster. And another storm is coming through in a few hours.”

  “So, what, you’re just gonna give up?”

  “No, but it’s time for you to accept that you have a couple more days with Lyra. And we’ll
all hang out when you get back. And look, you’re skiing together, so you obviously haven’t killed each other yet.”

  “Yet being the operative word.” I turned back to look at Lyra, who now stood with her hands on her hips. I thought I saw her left ski make tiny thumping movements as she watched me in irritation. I chuckled under my breath. “Look, man, I gotta go. She’s giving me a death stare.”

  “Okay, text me once you’re back in your room…with all your limbs intact.”

  “Screw you, dude.”

  Pete laughed before ending the call.

  Dick.

  “Are you done, Lady Chatterly?” Lyra called over, her tone coolly disapproving. In spite of myself, I chuckled at her smart-ass comment.

  “I’m not going to dignify that with a response. Besides, you didn’t have to wait for me. You coulda been up and down the hill twice already.”

  “Ugh, you’re infuriating. So let me guess, they’re not coming.”

  “Doesn’t look good.”

  “Two more days…” Her voice drifted.

  “Don’t remind me,” I muttered.

  “Hey, truce.”

  I put my hands up in surrender. “Right, sorry.”

  “Okay, let’s do this.

  At my repeated insistence, Lyra was the first to grab the rope, and I followed close behind. Slowly we made our way up the gentle hill, reaching the top much more quickly than I would have liked. My nerves were on fire as I stood at the top of the slight slope. The five-year-old climbed up right behind me and went whooshing past us, flying down the hill. His mother reached the top and laughed in adoration. It took everything in me not to tell her and her kid to go to hell.

  “Ready?” Lyra asked, raising both eyebrows.

  “Ladies first.” I gestured toward the hill with my arm.

  “But this hill should be nothing to you. Can’t you show me how it’s done?”

  “Right,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Just, uh, grab your poles and hold those at your sides.”

  “Like this?” Lyra said, placing her poles into the crunchy snow below.

  “Sure.”

  I have no fucking clue.

  I was a smart dude. I knew I could figure this out. Searching my brain for what seemed like the natural use of the poles and the skis, I just went with it. “And then use them to push off from the ground, then just, you know, glide down the hill. Keep your knees bent, you know, nimble and stuff.”

  “Okay, makes sense.” Lyra took a deep breath in through her nose and blew it out her mouth. A slight breeze drifted through her chocolate brown hair and my dick twitched.

  What the fuck?

  “Dev. Dev, hello!”

  Lyra startled me out of my daze. In disbelief, I stood at the top of that paltry hill, my mouth hanging open and my eyes blinking rapidly.

  “You look like you saw a ghost. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “I—I’m fine. I just, uh…forgot about something I needed to do for work. I should probably get back soon.”

  “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Dev, it’s so obvious.”

  “What?”

  Lyra removed her sunglasses and tilted her head, pursing her lips in pity. I hated pity. “You’ve never skied before, have you?”

  The jig is up, Dev. You idiot.

  “Don’t be ridiculous; of course I have.” My tone was clipped, defensive.

  “Look, you’re a smart guy, Dev. But you’re a terrible actor. You’ve been lying through your teeth since we got out here. You’re more scared than I am!”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about. And I’ll prove it. Watch this.”

  I plunged my poles into the ground and pushed off as hard as I could. Within seconds, I was flying down that hill, my heart completely in my throat as the wind blew right through me. I was halfway down the hill when my speed picked up rapidly, and I was sure I was going to crash right into the fence near the lodge. Quickly, I dug my poles into the snow as hard as I could and pivoted to the side. I stopped just a few feet before the fence.

  Thank God.

  “See! I told you I knew what I was doing.”

  “Don’t be an ass!” Lyra yelled from the top of the hill.

  “Now it’s your turn, come on!” I yelled back up. She stood for a moment, hesitating. And during that moment, the kindergartener came gliding down the hill.

  “C’mon, this kid can barely talk, and he’s leaving you in his dust.”

  “I’m six.” He said, looking confused…and a little pissed. “I know how to talk.”

  I patted him on the head, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Of course you can, buddy. Good job on the hill.”

  “Thanks,” he said before grabbing the rope. “I think your friend is scared.”

  She’s not the only one.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m trying to get her down. Any tips?”

  “Tell her you’ll get her some cocoa. That’s what my mommy does.”

  I chuckled before yelling up again. “Did you hear that, Lyra? I’ll get you some cocoa. You just gotta come down the hill.”

  “Make a pizza when you want to slow down,” the kid yelled. Lyra stared at him in confusion. The little guy pointed his skis toward one another in a triangle. And I chuckled when I realized he was making a slice of pizza with his damn skis. “See? Make it with your skis! And if you want to go faster, make them French fries.” He then straightened them out again.

  “Thanks, little guy!” Lyra yelled before digging her poles into the snow and gliding down the hill. Despite the terrified look on her face, she actually did a nice job. She didn’t go nearly as fast as I did, but she was surprisingly graceful under pressure. She stopped a few feet shy of me, an enormous smile on her face.

  “I did it!”

  “Good job,” I said with a laugh.

  “What a rush! Let’s do it again.”

  Shit.

  Even though I survived the first time down, I had no desire to ever do that again. Ever.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you shouldn’t push your luck. Let’s get you that cup of cocoa.”

  “Are you kidding? I don’t wanna stop yet! The sun is out and I just kicked that hill’s ass.”

  “I don’t know if I’d say that.”

  “Whatever. Let’s do it again!”

  “Fine. But then it’s cocoa time. It’s freaking cold out here.”

  “Wimp.”

  “Watch it, woman.”

  We made our way up the hill once again. My heart climbed its way up and into my throat once again as I dreaded the trip back down.

  “You can do it,” Lyra said, patting me on the back.

  “Of course I can do it. I told you, Lyra. I’ve been doing this for years. I was just a little rusty, that’s all.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Lyra said, shaking her head. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  “I’ll go down even faster this time, and you’ll be eating your damn words. And then you’ll owe me the damn cocoa.”

  “Be my guest,” she said, gesturing toward the base of the hill.

  Irritated, I shoved my poles into the snow and pushed off as hard as I could. The wind picked up behind me, pushing my momentum even more. I flew down that hill. I yelled, pretending to be excited, exhilarated, all that shit. But really, I was scared shitless. And that fence came at me quicker than it did the last time.

  Holy shit. I’m gonna crash.

  “Dev, watch out! Use your poles!”

  “Pizza!” a little voice yelled. “Pizza!”

  Taking Lyra’s advice, I stabbed the snow with my poles, trying to slow myself down, but it was too late. Before I had a chance to angle my skis together like a slice of pizza, the fronts of my skis crashed right into that fence. The harsh wood sent me flying back into the snow. I landed with a resounding thud on my left side, my knee and foot throbbing. I placed my hand on my knee and rolled to
my back, looking up at the sky, my heart still pounding and my ego completely shattered.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” Lyra asked above me. Lyra, the first-time skier who obviously came down the hill with no problems at all and was standing above me with concern on her face. My ego was no longer shattered…it was fucking pulverized.

  “Yep, totally fine,” I said.

  Lyra extended a hand. “Here, let’s get you up. Can you stand?”

  “Of course I can,” I snapped. Lyra didn’t deserve vitriol, but that didn’t matter. I was mortified, and I had no one else to take it out on. “It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve done this…and I think there’s something wrong with this ski. I mean, it just feels messed up.”

  “Probably because you fell on it.”

  Daggers shot from my eyes as I glared at her.

  “Sorry! C’mon, let’s get you back to the room.”

  Attempting to push myself off the ground, I put weight on my left foot, and the searing pain in my ankle shocked me back to the ground.

  “Oh my God, you’re really hurt. Stay there. I’ll find help.”

  “Sir, are you okay?” the mom of the ski prodigy asked. “Do you need me to get help?”

  “That won’t be necessary, thank you—”

  “Yes, please,” Lyra said, interrupting me. “He can’t walk.”

  The woman pushed off on her skis toward the lodge.

  I leaned on my elbow, determined to get my ass up and out of the snow.

  “Stop, Dev, seriously. You’re just going to make things worse.”

  The five-year-old made his way over to me, crouching down to rub my back. “Shhh,” he said with his tiny elflike voice. “It’s gonna be okay.”

  “Thanks,” I deadpanned, but secretly I was touched.

  Sweet kid.

  “Why didn’t you make a pizza?”

  “I don’t know, little dude.” I shook my head. “I just don’t know.”

  His mom returned a minute later, and she wasn’t alone. Two guys dressed in black-and-red coats with white crosses on their chests approached quickly.

  “Sir, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” one asked while the other studied my face as if trying to place me.

  It was Craig Wickham.

  Yeah, jackass, we know each other. Could this day get any fucking worse?

  “Dev? Dev Modi, right?”