by Carian Cole
He stirs and rolls over toward me, and his eyes slowly open and lock right onto mine. He’s caught me staring at him again.
“I’m gonna start charging you.” His voice is groggy and sleepy.
“Very funny,” I say.
He sits up and stretches his arms out. “Breakfast or a blowjob?” he says.
“What?” I’m not smiling anymore.
“Those are the choices when a chick wakes up in my bed.”
“Not for this chick. Sorry.”
He looks down at me with his bratty smile. “I’m just kidding. Don’t get all crazy.”
I shake my head in annoyance at him and roll over so I’m facing the other side of the bed. I should get up, but it’s so nice to be in such an amazingly comfortable bed. I wish I could stay in it all day.
He props himself on his elbow and I can feel his eyes on me. “I watched you sleep, too, ya know. In the truck.”
“I’m sure that was exciting.” Ugh. I hope I wasn’t making weird faces, drooling, or snoring when I was sleeping. I’m sure I didn’t look all pretty and glamorous like women do in the movies.
“You twitch.”
I wince. Of course, something embarrassing.
“You don’t sleep peacefully, Evelyn. Why not? What are you thinking about?”
“How would I know? I’m sleeping.”
“I thought I was wound-up, but I think you’re even worse than me.”
“I am not wound-up,” I say, sitting up and holding the sheet against my chest as I swing my legs off the side of the bed. I don’t want to hear any more of his comments about me. I just want to go home.
I look at him over my shoulder. “If you’re done psycho-analyzing me, can we please get dressed and go?”
“You can’t wait to get away from me, can you?”
“No, I would like to just get back to my life, as I’m sure you would, too.”
“I dunno. I’m kind of getting used to having you around. You’re like a little spastic kitten. One minute, you’re cuddling and purring, and the next, the claws are out, and you’re pouncing in five directions.”
Well, there’s an analogy I’ll never forget.
He grabs a handful of my hair and gently pulls me back to his face. “You can scratch me if you want,” he whispers.
I yank his hand out of my hair. “Storm, cut it out. Stop touching me and saying things like that.”
“You’re hard not to touch. Sorry.” He stands and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door.
I wonder if that was some strange compliment. Somehow, he’s made me feel guilty for not letting him touch me. What kind of crap-twist is that? Screw this crazy with him. No wonder he doesn’t have any real girlfriends. They would have to be insane to deal with him.
I grab my bag, take it into the main bathroom and put some makeup and clothes on. I still only have the one pair of stupid shoes, of course. Back out in the living room, I find my cell phone plugged into the wall next to the couch and realize Storm must have done that for me last night, because I forgot to do it myself. There are still zero bars.
He comes into the room wearing jeans, a black t-shirt and barefoot, carrying his boots. There is something about a barefoot man in jeans that’s so sexy. At least to me. He whistles for Niko, who comes running, and Storm lets him out the door to go do his business.
“The cafe in town has those lattes you like so much. Once you’re ready, I’ll take you.”
“Thank God. I need a coffee badly. I’m ready when you are.”
“Great. Once Niko comes back in, we can go.”
He sits on the chair across the room and pulls on socks and his work boots. An odd feeling starts to wash over me as I watch him, his arms flexing as he ties his boots, his hair hanging down over his face. I’m going to miss him.
He looks up and catches my eyes, but I quickly look away, only to peek back at him. He shakes his head, visibly annoyed, and stands up.
“Just say it,” he demands, his face turned away from me as he slides open the glass door and whistles for Niko.
“Say what?”
Niko comes bounding in, paws covered in snow, and runs directly over to me to kiss my face. I pet his big, fuzzy head and plant a kiss between his ears. “I’m going to miss you, buddy,” I tell him.
“He’s going to miss you, too. A lot.”
I look up at Storm, who’s watching me pet his dog, and I know what he’s saying; what he wants me to say. But I won’t say it, and I can see he’s mad. I will not fall into his trap. He thrives on this cat-and-mouse game of making women want him so he can play with them, and I will not be one of his toys or allow myself to think the few glimpses of possible sincerity meant anything.
“Let’s go.” He picks up my bag and I follow him down the hall to a door leading to the garage. A Jeep, a newer Corvette, and about six motorcycles are parked in there. The walls are covered in tools. I fight the urge to ask him if this is all his. He opens the passenger side of the Jeep for me and I climb in, waiting for him to come around and do the same.
“Let’s not crash, okay?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood that’s coming off him.
He grins over at me as he pushes a button to open the electric garage door and starts to back up. “If we do, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you back here. Our backseat days are over.”
Now that it’s daytime and the snow has stopped, I can see how far into the woods we are. There are maybe three houses on the street where Storm’s house is, and then we turn onto the main road where we were stuck. We drive about five miles until we come to a very small town. It’s adorable and quaint, with a few small mom and pop shops, an auto garage, a diner-cafe, the hotel—which is more like a little bed and breakfast it seems—and a very small grocery store. Storm stops at the garage first to check on our cars, which have both been towed here already. Mine doesn’t look too bad from the outside—the front just looks dented a bit—but Storm’s truck is all smashed up in the front. Seeing the damage makes me realize how lucky we are we weren’t hurt.
“Wait here in the truck and I’ll go talk to Seth. He’s the mechanic.”
I nod and watch him walk inside the garage. After a few minutes, I get bored and open the glove compartment. Condoms, a bunch of guitar picks, a fork, gum, a tiny Maglite. And a black bra. Size big. I slam the little door shut, disgusted. Who leaves their bra in some guy’s glove compartment? Did she leave the Jeep braless with those things bouncing around? What kind of woman does that? The kind he likes, obviously. I open my purse and take out my pocket hand sanitizer, squirting it all over my hands. Who knows what the hell was crawling around in there.
Moments later, he jumps in, but does a double-take at me. “Is that germ gel you’re holding?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my head. “You have germ gel with you?”
“Thankfully, yes. Can we talk about my car, please? Can I drive it home?”
He starts up the Jeep. “No, it’s fucked-up in the front. Seth has to order some parts. It will take a few days.”
“Well, shit. How much is that going to cost? Should I give him my insurance paperwork?”
He shakes his head as he backs out of the parking lot. “No, I told him I’d take care of it.”
“Why? I can’t let you do that.”
“Um, because I want to, and yes, you can. My trucks front end is messed up. I was gonna just get rid of it, but it kind of has sentimental value now, sooo . . . I’m gonna let him fix it.”
“Sentimental value?”
“Yeah. We spent two days in there. How can I get rid of it?”
“You’re crazy, Storm, ya know that?”
He just laughs at me and I realize I totally forgot to call Michael because I was too busy hounding around in Storm’s truck. I pull my cell phone out of my purse and turn it on. A few emails and text messages come through. Finally! A connection.
I have six text messages from Amy. And two f
rom Michael. Just two?
The first one:
Michael: Did you get there okay?
And the second one, hours later:
Michael: Call me when you have a connection.
Storm pulls into the cafe parking lot. “Hang on,” I say. “I’m going to call Michael while I have reception.”
I dial our house number, but there’s no answer. Hmm. I disconnect and dial his cell.
“Hello?”
“Hey, hon. It’s me!”
“Jesus, Evelyn. What happened?”
“I got lost. And the snow got really bad and you know my car is awful in the snow, and I went off the road into a ditch. Some guy came along and tried to give me a ride, but then this deer ran out in front of us and caused us to crash again. It was totally crazy, Michael. I was scared out of my mind. So, we were stuck in his truck for like two days and thank God, he had blankets and some food in there. It was awful.”
Storm rolls his eyes, and I smack his arm and make a face at him.
“Well, at least you’re okay,” Michael says casually. “How’s your car?”
“It’s kind of smashed-up. It’s at the garage here in this little town, but he needs a few days to fix it.”
“All right. So, how are you getting home?”
“You have to come get me. I’ll tell you where I am. I was nowhere near the Falls Inn. The GPS got me lost.”
“Evelyn, I can’t come get you. I was called to go to a sales meeting. I had to go out of town. I’m in South Carolina. I flew in last night, and I won’t be home until tomorrow night.”
“Are you kidding? How am I supposed to get home?”
“Can you call Amy?”
“Amy isn’t going to want to drive up here to get me, you know that. Her car doesn’t even have four-wheel drive, and the roads are still kind of snowy and icy up here.”
“Well, get a cab then. It will cost a fortune, but you don’t have a choice.”
“Is Halo okay? You just left him? Did you feed him?” I start to panic, realizing he left my poor cat alone.
I hear him sigh on the other end. “He’s fine, Evelyn. I gave him a ton of food and water before I left. He hid upstairs the entire weekend.”
“Well, did he eat at all?” I know elderly cats can’t go very long without eating before starting to have liver or kidney problems. Especially a cat his age.
“I think so. I don’t fucking know. I didn’t count the food.”
Hot tears well up in my eyes. If Halo is sick, I will never forgive myself. Or him.
“Okay, Evelyn. I gotta go type up this presentation for this meeting. Send me a text or call me when you’re home, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“All right, I will. I love you.”
“Love you, too.” He hangs up and I stare out the window.
I won’t cry in front of Storm. I won’t cry in front of Storm.
“Hey? You okay?” His voice is laced with concern, void of his usual sarcasm. I wipe at my eyes and shove my phone into my purse. “Yes, I’m fine. Is there a taxi service up here?”
“Fuck that. I’ll drive you home.”
I shake my head. “No. You’ve done enough for me already. Please, just help me get a taxi.”
“Evelyn, stop. Let’s have breakfast, and I’ll take you home, okay?”
I look down at my lap. I can’t believe Michael isn’t even home. It’s like he wasn’t even worried about me. He just left the state. He could have told his boss what happened to me and asked to stay home until I came back. I fight back the tears that are threatening to fall.
“He’s a douche nozzle,” Storm announces.
“Storm, don’t.” My voice quivers. I don’t need him pointing out all the things I’m thinking right now.
“Fuck this. Stay here.”
He slams the door and disappears into the cafe. I sit there and try not to cry. I don’t know if I’m more worried about Halo or more pissed at Michael right now. How could he leave like that, not knowing if I was okay? I could never just leave if I didn’t know he was safe.
A few minutes later, Storm comes back with two coffees and a white bag.
“White mocha?” He hands it to me. Oh, my God, he remembered. I smile weakly at him.
“I can’t believe you remembered.”
He winks at me and hands me the bag.
“Cinnamon bagel with cream cheese. I guessed on that one. It seemed like a girly bagel.”
“Thank you. That’s perfect. Very girly.” I smile at him because sometimes he can just be really cute.
“I figured we could eat on the way to your house, since there’s no way you were going to sit through breakfast while you’re worried about your cat.”
I take a bite of my bagel and nod. “Thank you,” is all I can say.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get rid of your ass,” he teases as he pulls out onto the main road.
CHAPTER SEVEN
STORM IS FAMILIAR WITH THE AREA, so I don’t need to give him detailed directions all the way to my house. Which I’m grateful for because I really don’t feel like talking at all. Maybe I shouldn’t be upset about Michael, and I’m just being overly sensitive. After all, it’s his job. It’s not like he purposely made plans so he wouldn’t be around when I finally got home from my adventure.
I slowly sip on my white mocha, which is one of the best I’ve ever had. It’s creamy, sweet, and smooth. If the cafe weren’t so damn far away, I wouldn’t mind the drive up there every Saturday just to have one of these lattes.
Storm is puffing on a cigarette and fiddling with the radio as he drives. I don’t recall seeing him smoke at his house, which is kind of odd. Maybe it’s his non-smoking zone.
“A quiet Evelyn is a scary Evelyn,” he says with a sideways glance at me.
I continue to stare out the passenger-side window and ignore him. He’s like an exotic animal in a zoo—as much as you want to enjoy its beauty and pet its gorgeous fur, you can’t make eye contact without worrying it might jump on you.
“How’s your mocha thing?”
“It’s really good, actually.”
He takes a final drag on his cigarette then throws it out the window.
“Does this sort of thing happen a lot, Evelyn?”
I chew on my lip. I don’t want to talk to him, and I especially don’t want to talk about Michael. I think all I really want to do is go home, make sure Halo is okay, and go to bed. For about a week.
“Evelyn? Why aren’t you talking to me?”
An aggravated sigh escapes me before I can stop it. “Storm, I don’t want to talk about this.”
“You say that a lot. Maybe you’ll feel better if you talk.”
Leaning my head back against the seat, I shake my head. “No, I really won’t.”
He leaves it alone and we don’t talk anymore until we’re near my condo. “Turn left here,” I tell him. “It’s the last one on the right.”
He parks in my parking spot. “Can I come inside with you for a few minutes?”
I wasn’t planning on him actually coming into my house. It feels too strange to me to have a man who I basically fooled around with in the home I share with Michael. Slut.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea . . .”
“I’d like to meet Halo and make sure he’s okay before I leave. You’re here without a car. What if he’s sick or something? You’re stuck here.”
Oh, wow. I hadn’t even thought of that. I’m going to be stuck here until Michael comes home tomorrow.
I give in, but only because I want to make sure my cat is okay before I let him go, and it would be rude to make him stay in the car after he let me stay at his gorgeous place.
“All right, you can come inside for a few minutes.”
He grabs my bag and looks around the parking lot before opening his door and coming around to my side to open the door for me. I’m impressed by this gesture. A bit of chivalry at an unexpected time can make a girl really happy.
> I feel a bit embarrassed as we head inside. Our condo is small, a bit outdated and rather cluttered. And I have no idea what sort of mess Michael has left behind without me here to clean up after him.
Storm seems huge in my tiny hallway. I take my bag from him and go into the living room, placing it on the couch. The room is a mess, just as I figured it would be. Soda cans and potato chip bags lying on the coffee table, the TV still on.
My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Michael’s a bit of a slob. I usually clean everything.” I pick up the random cans and take them to the kitchen, where the garbage is overflowing so bad the lid won’t shut and the sink is filled with dirty dishes. Ugh.
Storm has followed me, and I look at him apologetically. “It’s not usually this messy.”
“Evelyn, I don’t care. Go check your cat. I’ll wait here.”
Unfortunately, since Halo is deaf, I can’t call him or shake a bag of cat food, so I have to hunt for him. Sometimes, I can stomp my feet on the floor and he’ll feel the vibration and come running, but I’m not about to jump up and down like a lunatic in front of Storm.
After some hunting, I finally find Halo under my bed, all curled up sleeping. I gently blow on him to wake him, and he immediately does his screech-meow at me. I pick him up and cradle him like a baby, which he loves, and carry him downstairs.
“I found him under the bed.”
Storm’s face lights up as soon as he sees him. I think it’s awesome he’s such an animal lover. I can see it in his eyes, the genuine care. “Holy shit, he’s gorgeous. And big.” He reaches out and softly pets Halo’s head. “Wow, I can’t believe he’s eighteen. That’s wild.” I place Halo on the couch and touch his back to see if his spine feels more prominent, which would be a sign of weight loss.
“He seems okay,” Storm says. “Does he seem thinner to you?”
“No, I think he’s good. Thank God. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to him.”
Storm’s gaze goes from Halo to me. “Evie, are you going to be all right here alone?”
“Of course. I’m alone here almost all the time. Michael has to travel for work a lot, so I’m used to it. I just wasn’t expecting it this time, ya know? Thank you for driving me home, Storm.” I look up into his eyes. “Thank you for everything.”