Page 23 of Snowed In on Valentine's Day

Wait, nope. Don’t care what he thinks.

Sitting up, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and placed my feet on the floor. I stood slowly and stretched my arms and back, which felt stiff because, well, I was a woman nearing thirty sleeping on a stiff couch. I padded over to the bay window and opened the velvet curtains using the string on the side.

My face fell. I couldn’t see anything out this window. Snow or ice was stuck to almost every bit of the glass. I cursed under my breath as my shoulders sank.

Where was my nemesis-slash-reluctant host when I needed him? “Peter?” I called out, loudly cutting through the deafening silence.

He appeared within seconds, stopping a few feet in front of me and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He was wearing regular pants now, I noticed with disappointment. “Yes?”

“I believe ‘good morning’ is the customary greeting,” I said irritably.

“Good morning,” he said, his face its usual mask. “Sleep well?”

“Ah, well enough. I was wondering … what time is it?”

“It’s almost ten.”

My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “In the morning?”

He nodded. “Is that a problem?”

“I—” Stopping, I looked around. “I guess not. I mean, I had an important appointment today, but something tells me the roads won’t be great for travel.” My eyes met his again. “But I do need to get out of here. I hadn’t planned on staying this late.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “You think you’re leaving?”

“I know I am,” I said firmly, knowing nothing of the sort.

With my jaw set, I walked around him and down the hall to the front door. The rug was somehow dry, and my coat, hat, and scarf were hanging on silver hooks. I opened the heavy door and then proceeded to push the screen door open, but it wouldn’t budge. I looked for a lock. Sighing in frustration, I turned back. He was standing right behind me with his arms crossed over his chest. I bit my lip, trying not to snap at him. “Can you unlock the door?”

“It’s not locked.” His face was blank, but there was something in his eyes. Amusement, maybe. Was he laughing at me?

“It is,” I insisted. “I just tried to open—”

“It’s the snow. Blocking the door,” he said slowly as though he was speaking to a child.

Ugh, of course it would be the snow, trapping us in here together.

No.No!

“Well, do you have a shovel?” I asked desperately.

“Why?”

“So I can get out of your hair, obviously,” I said through clenched teeth.

He shook his head. “Not necessary. Haven’t you looked at the forecast?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You know I just woke up. And I don’t have any devices with power; otherwise, I’d have—”

“Weatherman says it’ll be colder and windier today, though the rate of snowfall will decrease later today.” His tone was nonchalant, as though he weren’t delivering devastating news. “And you still have no power.”

I covered my face in my hands, wanting to scream but knowing it would do no good. “I might as well go back to sleep then.”

He lifted his shoulders. “Suit yourself. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

I watched him as he walked down a different hall, his slippers making a clop-clop sound. I did a double-take.Slippers?Hesodidn’t seem like a slippers type.

He halted, spinning around. “Did you say slippers?”

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