Ryan gives me a side grin, then climbs the stairs two at a time. I watch the flames lick up the fireplace, then let out a yawn. I’m still half-asleep and really wish I could have a big cup of steaming hot coffee. I grab a pillow from the couch and position myself comfortably in front of the fire and end up falling asleep.
When Ryan places more logs inside, I wake up disoriented.
“Hey Sleeping Beauty.” He chuckles and hands me my phone. He’s wearing dark jeans, boots, and a knitted sweater. The mountain man vibe is fitting, considering he’s typically dressed to the 9’s.
“Thanks. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You were snoring and looked comfortable.”
I gasp. “I was not!”
“Don’t worry, you snore lightly just like a princess.”
I snatch the pillow and throw it at him, but he catches it. “You forget who my sister is,” he says then throws it on the couch. Ryan moves to the kitchen and I unlock my phone. It’s nearly seven so I group text Cami and Piper to give them an update on the current situation.
Kendall: My biggest fear has happened.Piper: You’re pregnant?Kendall: No asshole. We lost power. I don’t know when it’s coming back on or when we’ll be able to leave.A few minutes pass and my phone buzzes.
Cami: And so it begins!Kendall: Whatever. I hate this!Cami: There’s something magical about being locked in the cabin. You’ll see.I send an eye roll emoji because of all the stories she’s told about falling madly in love at the cabin. There is something cozy about it, but I don’t know if that’s in the cards for Ryan and me. I wouldn’t complain if it were, but I know how he feels about me, how he’s always felt, and it’s not romantically.
Piper: I hope this happens. I need a love story to warm me up this winter.Cami: Ha! I just don’t want to hear any details about my brother.Kendall: I’d spare you.Piper: I want details. All the raunchy ones.This has me snorting.
Kendall: My phone will probably die today or tomorrow.Cami: Oh no! What will you do without it?Piper: She’ll go crazy. Poor Ryan.Kendall: Damn right. But anyway, I’m starving. I need to figure out our breakfast situation. Please keep an eye on the weather and if anything changes, let me know ASAP.They tell me to keep them updated and to text if something happens. I take Ryan’s advice and turn off my cell in the interim because I only have fifty percent left. Only a few more text conversations and social media updates and it’ll be dead. Thankfully, I brought two suitcases of clothes and packed my drawing pad and pencils.
I get up and walk to the kitchen where Ryan’s eating a Pop-Tarts. It makes me smile because he gave me so much shit about the processed food I got Cami.
“Not so bad now, are they?” I ask, reaching over and opening a packet. I can’t remember the last time I ate sugar like this, so it tastes amazing.
“It’s terrible, but it’s better than nothing,” he tells me as he breaks off the edges and sets them down on a paper towel.
“You’re not going to eat that?” I ask.
He shakes his head so I reach over and pop the pieces in my mouth, then give him a smile. “Help yourself,” he says, scooting the crust toward me.
“We can’t waste food in our current condition, or we’ll be eating caviar and oysters for breakfast,” I say around a mouthful.
Ryan lets out a laugh and it sounds so damn sweet. He’s not his usual uptight self, which I like. I take this opportunity to chat because moments like this are so damn fleeting.
“How’s work been going lately?” I ask, trying to make small talk.
“Fine,” he answers.
“Just fine?” I push with a smile.
“Not really much to talk about other than it’s my life and I can’t imagine doing anything else.” He finishes his Pop-Tarts and glances up at me.
“At least you still enjoy it. A lot of my parents' friends are burned out from working so many hours after what happened last year,” I say.
He tenses.
“Can’t relate. Also, I don’t want to talk about this,” he snaps, and I realize his wall has returned. It’s a way he protects himself from being questioned. Anytime I’ve asked him about working, he’s gotten super snippy with me. While I understand he doesn’t like to talk about it since the pandemic, I thought maybe now that some time has passed he would. Instead of pushing him, I turn on my phone and check the notifications I’ve missed.
As if Ryan realizes I’m shutting him out, he speaks up.
“I just acted like an asshole, didn’t I?” he asks.
I nod. “Basically.”
“I don’t mean to. It’s just a sensitive subject. I still have a lot of shit to work through,” he admits.