Page 17 of Christmas with the Firefighter
"Aren't you?"
"Corey, I set off a fire alarm making hot chocolate. I cried in a hotel lobby because my relatives think I'm a disappointment. I spend most of my time alone in hotel rooms, working on presentations for people who see me as a temporary solution to their problems." She shakes her head. "I'm not sophisticated. I'm just lonely."
The word hangs between us, simple and devastating.
"You don't have to be," I say quietly.
"Don't I? Because that's what I am, everywhere I go. The woman who's fine for now, good enough for tonight, but not someone you build a life with."
"Says who?"
"Says everyone who's ever known me long enough to get bored."
"Then they were idiots."
She looks up at me, and I can see tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. "Were they? Because this morning, sitting across from you at breakfast, it felt like you were already looking for the exit."
"I was looking for courage."
"For what?"
"To tell you that last night wasn't just sex for me. That waking up with you felt like coming home. That I know it's crazy and fast and probably stupid, but I want to try anyway."
The tears spill over then, tracking down her cheeks in the cold air. "Corey—"
"I don't care that we just met. I don't care that this is happening too fast. I don't care that you live out of hotel rooms and I've never left Montana." I reach up to brush the tears from her face with my thumbs. "What I care about is that you make me laugh. That you're brave enough to travel alone but still kind enough to worry about inconveniencing strangers. That you feel like home in a way I didn't think was possible."
"That's not—"
"That's not what?" I cup her face in both hands, forcing her to meet my eyes. "Not realistic? Not practical? Not the way things work in the real world?"
"All of those things."
"Maybe. But maybe sometimes the real world gets it wrong."
She stares up at me, and I can see her wrestling with herself, hope and fear battling for control.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying don't go to that cabin. Don't spend Christmas alone when you could spend it with me. Don't run away from something that could be incredible just because it's scary."
"And then what? I extend my stay at the inn for a few more days, we have some more great sex, and then reality sets in? I have to go back to my real life eventually, Corey."
"Do you?"
The question surprises her. "What do you mean?"
"You said yourself your job is remote. You can work from anywhere. So why does anywhere have to be alone in hotel rooms?"
"Because that's how I've always done it."
"That's not a reason. That's just habit."
She's quiet for a long moment, studying my face like she's trying to decide whether to trust me. Snow falls around us, muffling the sounds of the awakening town, creating a pocket of intimacy in the middle of the parking lot.
"You're asking me to change my entire life for someone I just met," she says finally.
"I'm asking you to consider that maybe the life you've been living isn't the one you actually want."
