Page 55 of Holly Ever After

I fumble for my phone on the nightstand, squinting against the bright screen. A barrage of texts and local news notifications flood the display. “HEAVY SNOWFALL,” one headline screams. “ALL RESIDENTS ADVISED TO STAY OFF ROADS,” says another.

My heart drops to my stomach.

Snowed in? Now? With him?

In a frantic move, I rip the covers off Sean, wrapping them around myself like a makeshift toga before dashing into the living room. My bare feet hit the cold wooden floor, sending shivers up my spine as I rush to the window.

Pulling aside the curtains, I'm met with blankets of white. It's as though nature itself conspired to lock me in this cottage with Sean, pushing us into a cozy, unwanted hibernation.

I feel the breath leave my lungs, my heart pounding in my chest.

We're snowed in. Completely, utterly snowed in.

There's no escaping this, not the snow, not the cottage, and certainly not the complicated tangle of whatever Sean and I have just become.

I wrap the covers tighter around me, as if they could shield me from the reality crashing down.

“Hey, yeah, got it,” I hear Sean's muffled voice coming from the bedroom. “No, no need. My mom will be fine. Yeah, I'm stuck too. Alright, thanks.”

He appears in the doorway of the living room, phone in hand, eyes catching the blanket I've wrapped around myself like a survivalist's cocoon. For a moment, we lock eyes, the silence filling with every unspoken word, every unsaid regret and hidden desire.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat awkwardly, “all my jobs are called off. Your parents called. They've offered to take my mom in until all of this settles.”

I nod, still not able to meet his eyes, instead focusing on the window. The impenetrable wall of snow has turned the outside world into a blank canvas, and I'm suddenly aware of how small this cottage feels.

It's like that movie—what's it called? Oh, yeah, The Shining. Except instead of ghosts and an axe-wielding maniac, it's just regret and sexual tension.

“I slept with my brother's best friend,” I mutter to myself. “The one guy I'm not supposed to want, but also kinda hate but maybe don't really hate, and now I'm trapped here like a Hallmark movie gone terribly wrong.”

I'm so engrossed in my existential crisis that I barely notice him stepping behind me. I feel the blanket being lifted from my shoulders, only for it to settle back around me, this time encompassing him as well. He wraps his arms around my waist, and I find my back pressed against his chest.

Oh, great, so this is how we die—stuck in a snowed-in cottage, draped in a blanket of awkwardness and post-coital regret.

But then I feel the heat of his body blending with my own warmth, and all thoughts fizzle out like a sparkler's last glow.

“I hate you,” I whisper, though the conviction in my voice is as thin as the ice we're both standing on.

“I hate you more,” he murmurs into my ear, his breath hot and tickling.

Oh, screw it.

As I lean back into him, it occurs to me that being snowed in might not be so bad after all. At least, not when you're snowed in with a man who has a body like Sean’s and knows how to use it.

“Wait, do my parents know we're together? I don’t mean together together, but here together? As in me and you in this house? Trapped?” The words spill out of my mouth like water from a burst dam.

He spins me around to face him, his hands firmly gripping my shoulders. “Jesus Christ, Squirt, you're hyperventilating. No, your parents don't know we're together or whatever the hell you're panicking about.”

I look up and realize two things: one, he's absurdly close, and two, he's naked. Very, very naked. That's about all the brainpower I can muster before—

“OH MY GOD, YOU'RE NAKED!”

“Didn't seem to bother you last night.”

I yank the blanket tighter around me and bolt for my bedroom, Sean hot on my heels. “We need clothes.”

“I've heard that's generally a good idea,” he mutters.

As I reach my room, I realize I'm actually racing a naked man for clothes. What's become of my life? I snatch a pair of jeans and a hoodie from my dresser, throwing them onto the bed.

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