Page 65 of Falling Madly
“No! If I was describing a chair, I’d use much more passionate language! Like this couch… it’s heavenly.” I rolled onto my back, stretching out for emphasis. “It receives me like a hug. I always loved that Pinterest photo, but I had no idea how amazing this felt. It molds to my body like I’m floating on air.”
Bess laughed. “You’re right. That’s a lot more passion. I guess Trevor knew the way to your heart.”
I rolled to my side, anxiety fluttering in my chest. “Is that a bad thing? He wanted to create a space I’d feel at home in.”
Bess tilted her head, considering this. “I guess it’s one of those things that is either creepy or cute, depending on how it’s received. So, it’s up to you.”
“Huh.” I flopped onto my back.
That’s what I’d told Trevor, but hearing someone else say it made it real. Like anything in life, I could choose to frame this either way. I didn’t have to accept anyone else’s interpretation. If I wanted to be happy with Trevor, I could write that version of the story. I just had to figure out what was really between us.
I heard the front door and hubbub of Charlie and Trevor handling a lot of cardboard. I should have gotten up to help, but I was so blissfully relaxed, floating on that cloud-like couch, that I decided to give myself a minute. Just one minute.
“I do love this couch,” I said dreamily, closing my eyes on a smile.
When I opened them, Trevor stood right above me, looking down with a smile wider than mine. “Wasn’t sure it was worth the cash, but aye, I’m convinced now.”
Snowflakes launched from the shoulders of his jacket, floating down on me. I felt one land on my face—a pinprick of cold that instantly turned into a droplet.
I scrambled up to sitting. “How did it go? Did you find stuff?”
Trevor pointed at a pile of flattened cardboard by the front door. “Charlie’s bringing the last bit in. It’s the box my telly came in, so it’s big.”
I looked around me. “You don’t even have a TV.”
“Yeah, I realized it wasn’t part of your… vision, so I hid it in the spare room.”
I had to laugh. “I’m not against TVs. But the picture I pinned was basically a home library. I have to ask… where did you get all the books?” I nodded at the bookshelves behind me, full of leather-bound classics.
Trevor busied himself with taking off his jacket. “I’ve been frequenting garage sales and book fairs.”
“Really?”
He flung his jacket across an armchair and ran a hand across his face. “I mean… I love books and I read all the time. I had a decent collection to begin with, but not that many old ones that looked like those in the photo. So, I guess that gave me an excuse to shop. It’s been fun. I’ve found some interesting reads.”
I stared at the bookshelves in awe. So, he hadn’t outsourced this part of the decoration. Trevor loved book shopping. I’d already known he was an avid reader—which made sense for a wordsmith—but for some reason, I hadn’t expected him to buy and collect books. I wasn’t sure why it made me so happy. Maybe because books were heavy and impractical. They came with a sense of permanence.
The front door opened again, and Charlie hauled in a huge, flat box with a picture of a flatscreen TV on it. “Where are we going to do this?” he asked.
Trevor met him at the door and grabbed the other end. “Let’s build in the spare room, there’s more space.”
Bess and I followed them, helping them drag all the cardboard and a banged-up toolbox into our temporary workshop. Trevor showed us to the tape, glue, screws, and everything else he’d managed to find.
“Are we even allowed to use screws?” Bess asked. “The rules said cardboard, duct tape and glue.”
“I’m pretty sure some people use screws,” I said. “It’s not like they inspect your sled that closely. That might have changed, though, since the last time I…” I swallowed the rest of the sentence. Too late.
Charlie narrowed his eyes at me. “Wait… you’ve done this before?”
Oh, shit!They didn’t know about my history with Cozy Creek. Ever since they’d come up with this ridiculous “let’s move the office to Cozy Creek” idea, I’d been gathering the courage to tell them. But I knew it would open the door to an avalanche of questions I wasn’t ready for.
Now, I couldn’t put it off any longer. Trevor already knew.
“I grew up here,” I said carefully. “I haven’t been back in a long time, but I guess some things don’t change. The cardboard sled contest has been around for years. My mom stays in touch with her friends here. She told me it’s gotten bigger.”
Bess stared at me like I’d just told them I worked for the CIA. “So, youknowCozy Creek?”
“Cozy Creek knows me,” I muttered.
