She looked up at me, her expression serious. “What if I want it to be permanent?”
My heart stuttered. “Maya.”
“I know, I know. Too fast. We should take things slow. I should spend time in my apartment, establish my independence, not move in with you after four days.” She buried her face in my chest. “But it feels right. Being here with you feels like home in a way nowhere else ever has.”
I held her tighter, my Yeti instincts singing with satisfaction. “Then stay. Tonight, tomorrow, as long as you want. We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”
“What about your space? Your solitude? I don’t want to impose.”
“Maya.” I tilted her face up to look at me. “You're not imposing. You’re making this place feel like a real home instead of just a house I hide in. I love having you here. I love waking up with you and cooking with you and watching you game in my shirts. I love all of it.”
“Even when I take over your bathroom with all my stuff?”
“Especially then.”
She kissed me, soft and sweet and full of promise. "Okay. I’ll stay. But we have to go into town one more time tomorrow. I need to go to the lease office.”
“For what?”
“I had an idea, but I need to ask Margaret something.”
“Want to talk it over?”
“Not yet. I’m still formulating the plan.”
Desperate as I was to ask, I knew her well enough she wouldn’t share unless she was ready to. “Do you want me to take you to your apartment tonight?”
“No,” she said, “not tonight. Tonight, I’m home.”
Outside, the sun was setting over the mountain, painting the snow in shades of orange and pink. The town and its gossip and its concerned looks felt very far away.
Up here, in our bubble, it was just us.
And that was more than enough.
Chapter 9
Maya
Iwoketothesmell of coffee and bacon, and for a moment I just lay there, soaking in the warmth of Geoff’s bed and the feeling of complete contentment. I hadn’t gone back to the apartment since the day we went to the general store. Instead, I’d stayed with Geoff in his cabin for a few more days. One week ago today, my life changed forever. A week of living in this cabin, of falling asleep in his arms and waking up to his smile, of existing in a bubble where nothing else mattered.
But reality was knocking. Loudly.
My phone had been buzzing all morning with reminders. My new job started in five days, and I had orientation paperwork to fill out. The apartment was sitting empty while I was paying rent. Heidi had sent dozens of texts asking when I was actuallygoing to unpack. My mom had called twice, wanting to ‘check in,’ which was her code for ‘interrogate you about your life choices.’
I’d always known the bubble Geoff and I built for ourselves was going to pop. Might as well be today. Rip the bandage off, so to speak.
“Morning,” Geoff said, appearing in the doorway with a mug of coffee. He was shirtless, wearing only sweatpants, and I took a moment to appreciate the view. Even though I’d spent the past week seeing him like this, I still wasn’t used to it. “You’re thinking loud again.”
“I know.” My phone buzzed again. Heidi.
Call me. Now.
I texted back.
Little busy. Can’t talk.
I have an idea.
