“Okay, then,” I said, standing up.“Let me grab the keys for you…”
My knee smacked against the edge of the desk."Shoot," I muttered, rubbing the sore spot.Christian’s lips twitched but he stayed silent.I limped over to the wall where a row of hooks held various keys, each labeled with room numbers and tiny tags.
“That's one way to label the keys,” he remarked.
“Yeah, keeps me organized...sort of,” I replied, scanning for the right set.My fingers danced over each label, murmuring under my breath until I found what I was looking for.
“Here we go.”I held up a brass key attached to a worn leather tag.“Let me show you to your—home, I guess.”
He stood up and followed me out of the office.The hallway outside was warm and inviting, with framed pictures of past guests and festive garlands strung along the walls.
“This way,” I said, leading him down a corridor lined with plush carpeting.The inn felt cozier in winter, each room like a small haven from the cold outside.
“You run this place all by yourself?”he asked as we walked.
“Mostly,” I said over my shoulder.“I have some help during busy seasons, but yeah, it’s mostly just me.And my grandma.Obviously.”
We headed up to the third floor; the stairs creaking under our weight.The loft had always been one of my favorite spots in the inn, though it hadn't seen much use since I graduated college a few years ago.I fumbled with the key for a moment before the door swung open.
Dust particles danced in the air, illuminated by the afternoon sun streaming through the skylights.The space felt colder than I remembered, and I shivered slightly.
“It might be cold since I haven’t had a tenant in… well, since I graduated college a few years ago,” I said, glancing around.“But I'll turn on the heater and it'll warm up in an hour or two.You're more than welcome to hang out in the lobby while you wait.There's a hot chocolate bar?—”
“No, thanks,” he interrupted, setting his bag down by the door.“I’ll be fine.”
I gave him a long look, searching his face for any sign of discomfort.His expression remained stoic, giving nothing away.
“All right then,” I said, moving towards the corner where an old-fashioned radiator stood.I twisted the dial until it clicked on, and a faint hum filled the room.
He walked over to the window, gazing out at the snow-covered landscape.“Nice view,” he remarked, though his voice lacked enthusiasm.
“Yeah,” I replied, stepping back and wiping my hands on my jeans.“It’s one of my favorite parts of this place.”
The room was sparsely furnished—just a bed with a worn quilt, a small dresser, and a wooden desk that looked like it had seen better days.Despite its simplicity, there was something comforting about it.
“If you need anything,” I said, heading towards the door, “my office is just downstairs.”
He nodded but didn’t turn away from the window.
“Seriously,” I added with a small smile.“Hot chocolate bar.It’s pretty great.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips for just a moment before disappearing.
“Thanks,” he said finally.
"Oh," I said, running my fingers through my hair as I crossed the room."This is the perfect place for a Christmas tree.Hey, have you been to Evergreen Tree Farm?Obviously not, you're new here.But you should stop by and?—"
"I don't do Christmas," he cut me off.
I blinked."W...What?"
"I'm not," he said."I'm not a festive guy."
"Clearly," I said, crossing my arms."How can you not do Christmas?Maybe you've never done it right."
He shrugged, offering no further explanation.
"I honestly think if you just?—"
