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“Why do we need to think about that now?”
Her chest deflates with a huff. “Because I can’t. I’m—” Cassidy shakes her head. “I’m at my wits end already. All my plans have been shat on by this bloody storm, and to top it all off, my dad’s ashes are missing.”
“We’re going to find your case. Like the airline guy said, it’s likely mixed up with other luggage.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it’s not. Until I have my case, getting it back is my priority.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t let your hair down.”
Pushing herself away from me brusquely, she hisses, “I don’t want to be here. This isn’t even on our list.”
“You can’t live your life based off a list, Cassidy. Trust me, it’s not—”
“Trust you?” Her voice breaks, choked with tears as she harshly brushes her hair from her face. “I don’t know you, Leif. We met all of two fucking seconds ago, and now we’re here.”
I step back, the words sucker punching me in the gut, and I bunch my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, attempting to keep my cool so the venomous remark rolls off me. It would be a lie if I said I wasn’t expecting the events of today to crash down on her this hard. I’ve always had a thing for fiery women—something I was drawn to in Cassidy the instant we met. That doesn’t mean her words don’t sour my optimism.
Loud, rhythmic knocks at the door cut through the tension, followed by a familiar voice calling from the other side of the thick wood, “Open up, Grizzle Kick! I know you’re in there!”
Cassidy instantly starts for the bedroom. “You should get that.”
“Wait…Cassidy, please…”
“There’s an epic snowstorm brewing out there.” She looks over her shoulder to the French doors, “It’s not like I’ve got anywhere else to go.”
Although she doesn’t say it, I can hear the ‘we’re done with the conversation’ implication in her tone.
What she doesn’t know is that we’re nowhere near done. We have four nights together, and I don’t care if I have to spend every hour of that time showing her that there is more to life than a list. There’s more to our situation than an unfortunate series of events for her. We might not know each other, but we’re also not strangers, and this?
This is just the beginning of us.
CHAPTER 5
CASSIDY
After I’ve called up the most affordable hotels in the city, I finally concede defeat. I can’t afford a room here or any of the other higher-end hotels, and the ones that don’t ask for the blood of my yet-to-be-conceived firstborn are full. At this point, I’m so exhausted I can’t see straight. Add to that the nagging feeling that I’ve looked a gift horse in the mouth, and I’m ready to dig myself a hole out in the snow to hibernate in until my flight back home.
Throwing my phone onto the bedroom sofa, I try to ignore the level-headed advice my best friend is spouting down the phone. We’ve known each other all our lives. Her dad still owns the corner shop at the end of the street, and her mum is still the nurse in our local general practice. In many ways, her mum was a mother to me, too.
“Stop panicking. Nothing good ever comes out of that, and you end up allowing the situation to overwhelm you. Take a breath, Cas, as well as a moment to rationalise the situation.”
“Easy for you to say, but this trip was the last thing on the list, and it’s like I’m falling at the last hurdle.” The weight on my chest bears down, heavier and suffocating.
“Maybe the problem is that you’re looking at it as a hurdle. The whole point of you going through that list was to mourn your dad and find some closure.”
“Suni, I don’t… God, it’s not getting better. I thought doing this would make it feel different, but it’s only made me miss him more.” It seems unfair that life has simply gone on when my heart is still shattered on that hospital floor.
“Oh, babe,” Sunita coos. “I wish I could give you a big hug right now.”
“Instead, you’re telling me to chill out and have fun.”
“Because I honestly think that’s what you need, and we both know it’s what your dad would want. He’d be the first person to tell you to stop whining and make the most of the situation. When do normal girls like us get to share a super luxury suite with a hot stranger?”
“You don’t even know what Leif looks like,” I groan, picking up my phone so I can pace freely.
“Au contraire, mon ami. I know he’s built like a brick shithouse. Says on his Wiki that he’s six-feet-two,” she tells me with a pensive hum.
“What else does it say?” I whisper into the phone with a glance to the bedroom door.
