Page 92 of PS: I Hate You
Maybe I can’t. I love fireplaces so much I want to curl up inside the crackling flames.
In our room, I take the bathroom first, turning on the hot water in the shower. My skin feels gross, covered in sweat from our hike that’s now dried on my skin. I strip everything off and leave it in a pile in the corner. When I step under the hot water, I groan in relief. The soap is a delicious minty scent, and I suds up my whole body, then rinse off quick. I want to linger, but Dom still needs to take his turn. When I finish, I pat my body dry, then wrap my hair in a towel. Once I have on the complimentary robe, I scoop up my dirty clothes and head back to the bedroom. Dom slips past me the moment I step out, shutting the door between us with a definitive click.
While I wait for him to finish showering, I pull on a clean sweater and leggings, then towel my hair and examine the daybed. It looks plenty comfortable, covered in pillows and soft blankets. It sits under a window that shows the winter wonderland building outside. Overall, a perfectly cozy sleeping spot.
And yet, my eyes track to the four-poster bed.Thatlooks like a mattress someone could sink into and not want to leave for days.
Especially if they’re next to a certain man—
“Stop it,” I mutter, shaking my head.
Dom has held my hand and given me a piggyback ride and saidsweet things that could mean more…but he hasn’t mentioned the airport kiss.
We’re pretending it never happened. We’re moving past the wrongs in our past and becoming friends. That’s what is important.
You’re all I see.His words whisper to me. A statement that sounds more intimate than anything two friends share.
But I don’t want to make the mistakes of the past. What if I’m misinterpreting? What if I’m misunderstanding?
I cannot make another move only to be rejected again.
I busy myself with finding a thick pair of wool socks and pull them on. Dom reappears with damp hair and a freshly washed look. He has on a different pair of jeans with a long-sleeved thermal.
“Let’s go eat,” I mutter, suddenly grumpy with how tempting the man is.
Maybe I could sleep on the fainting couch by the fire, so I don’t have to think about him in a bed only feet from me.
In the dining room we find small tables arranged with individual place settings. Two are already occupied by the other house visitors. Dom and I claim one in the far corner near a large window. It’s too dark outside to see far, but an exterior light reveals the flakes are still cascading down relentlessly.
“This is good sleeping weather,” Sandra announces as she approaches our table with a wide smile. “But you’ll want a full belly first. Now, we have chicken noodle soup, grilled cheese, and roast beef sandwiches. What can I get you two?”
After we give her our orders—I get the grilled cheese because that’s the only correct choice—Sandra bustles off toward the kitchen, leaving us alone.
“That was some impressive snow driving you did,” I offer. “Don’t think we slid once.”
Dom grunts and focuses on arranging his silverware just so. He’s not looking at me.
I try again. “Guess since you won our bet, you’ll be wanting to crash at my place when you come out my way. When did you want to do Idaho?”
“Not sure,” he murmurs, his attention sliding from his utensils to the snowy window.
“Have you looked up the coordinates?”
“Yes.” When he doesn’t expand, I try not to grind my teeth in irritation.
“And?” I press.
“It’s another hike.” Dom glances around the room, eyeing the other patrons.
Apparently, I’m boring him. “A hike. Cool. I’ll make sure I’m ready for that.”So you don’t have to carry me again, I silently add.
Dom nods and just then our food comes out. He’s quiet for the rest of the meal, and so am I because I don’t want my attempts at conversation to get shot down again. I seethe quietly, only forcing a smile when Sandra approaches our table again, this time carrying a tray of steaming mugs.
“This is Alan’s special hot toddy. He’s perfected the recipe. Just what you need on a snowy night. Would you like one?”
A drink to help distract me from the tension at this table?“Yes, please!” I hold my hands out for one of the warm mugs. Sandra grins wide, passes me the beverage, and heads off to the next table when Dom gives her a tight smile and shakes his head no.
I purse my lips to blow on the hot liquid, wanting a warm sip but not a scalding one.