Page 39 of Perfectly Complicated
Janie follows me in and immediately freezes. For a moment, she says nothing as she surveys the space: a chair by the fireplace too small to sleep in, no couch, andof course, one very large bed.
She clears her throat. “Well, this is cozy.”
The cabin is surprisingly nice with exposed wooden beams, a stone fireplace with logs stacked next to it, and a small kitchenette tucked into one corner. The cabin is exactly what I was afraid it would be—small, secluded, and romantic. If we were actually a couple, it would be perfect.
“I’ll take the floor,” I offer. Though glancing at the hardwood, I’m already dreading what my body will feel like tomorrow.
“See?” she says brightly, moving to the opposite side of the room. “This place is plenty big for two of us.”
I don’t really believe the optimism she’s pretending to haveright now. A rose-colored spin on this one-bed situation is only amplifying the unspoken tension between us.
Janie wraps her arms around her waist. “Is it cold in here? I’m freezing.”
I search the room for a thermostat and don’t see one. “I think the fireplace is the only thing to heat the room,” I say, moving toward the pile of logs. “I’ll get a fire going if you want to take a hot shower.”
“Thanks.” She moves toward the bathroom without another word.
I busy myself building the fire, partly because I need something to do that isn’t thinking about the impossible situation I’ve gotten myself into. This feels like the world’s worst game show: survive a night sharing a room with the woman you’re attracted to—without screwing everything up.
And the worst part?I can’t text a teammate and ask them what they would do. The group text thread would blow up. Leo would never let me hear the end of it, and Jaxon’s teasing would turn highly inappropriate. Even Miles would find some way to turn this into twenty questions about how I got the one woman who doesn’t like me to agree to share a room.
I hear the water turn on and try very hard not to think about what’s happening on the other side of that door. Instead, I focus on the fire in front of me, the weight of the ornament still in my jacket pocket. When am I supposed to give her this? Especially now that things are tense between us? It’s not like I can say, “Hey, I got you this random gift for no reason, even though you’re currently mad at me.”
The last thing I need is for her to wonder if I’m expecting something—like being stuck here alone means I’m hoping for more.
She’s obviously attractive. And that kiss was proof that she’s getting under my skin. But Little Miss Christmas would never actually go for someone like me.
So tonight, I’ll give her all the spaceshe needs.
I head to the only closet in the room and pull out extra blankets so I can figure out how I’m going to make the floor work as my bed. While spreading them out, a shrill yell erupts from the bathroom.
Something is wrong, but it’s not like I can just walk in there and check. “Are you okay?” I call out.
“The water just turned ice cold!” she shouts. “What do I do?”
I move to the door. “Try turning it off and back on?”
“I did. Oh my gosh, this is freezing!”
I can hear her moving around, the water turning on, and another yelp of pain.
Unfortunately, I’m helpless to do anything on the other side of this door. “Maybe wait a little?”
“I don’t think it’s getting better,” she stutters. “And this bathroom is s-so c-cold.”
“Maybe pretend it’s a cold plunge?” I suggest.
“You’renothelping,” she growls.
Then the door flies open, and Janie stumbles out wrapped in a towel that covers just enough of her body, but feels wrong somehow. Or maybe it’smyreaction to her that’s wrong. Because thisshouldbe an emergency situation, but instead all I can focus on is the fact that she's standing in front of me in nothing but a towel.
Her hair is dripping down her shoulders, her skin mottled from the cold water, her teeth chattering.
“Come here and get warm,” I say, moving toward her, then stop abruptly when I realize what I just suggested. I can’t warm her up. That would definitely make things worse. “I mean, by the fire.” I point at the crackling logs. “It’s hot…obviously.”
She’s too cold to be embarrassed, which is probably a good thing because I’m embarrassed enough for both of us. I grab the extra blanket from my makeshift bed and hold it out to her without glancing at her.
Because if I look directly at her, I’m going to be the next one who needs a cold shower.
