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I can hear the fridge running. “Generator kicked on, so at least the food in the fridge won’t go bad.”
“And heat?”
“The pilot light must've blown out. That sometimes happens when it's this windy. I'll check it in the morning when it's daylight.”
She shoots me a disapproving glare. “So now what?”
“I'm going to bed. You should go back to sleep.”
“Where? It's an icebox in my room.”
I point at the couch.
“You'rekidding.”
Shrugging, I call for Dasher, who gives Fallon's cheek a final lick before following me out of the living room.
“There are more blankets inside the wooden bench by the window. Help yourself,” I call out, and as I make my way upstairs, I swear I hear her cursing me. But I expect nothing less, considering her attitude.
CHAPTERFIVE
FALLON
DAY 3
I'm in hell.
No, scratch that.
It's too cold to be hell.
More like if hell was in Antarctica, and it was hailing and snowing ten-inch icicles.
Dramatic? Maybe.
But Ihateit and loathe being cold even more.
My apartment is set to seventy-five nearly year-round, and although Seattle doesn't get super hot, it also doesn't get super cold. It rains half the time, which means I'm often wearing layers anyway.
This weather, though?
My worst fucking nightmare.
Waking up on Levi's couch, barely able to feel my fingers—even though I'm wearing gloves—has me groaning. Flashbacks of last night have me grinding my teeth with frustration. Levi suspects the furnace's pilot light blew out, and with how my luck's going, who knows if he can fix it.
The fireplace is down to its last log, so I begrudgingly stalk over and throw two more inside. As soon as I do, ash blows my face, and I cough.
Of fucking course.
I wipe my eyes and cheeks, then wrap a blanket around me before going to the bathroom.
Once I'm done, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and wince. I need a hot shower, an avocado breakfast bowl, and a gallon of coffee.
I splash water on my face and brush my teeth. A rush of cool air seeps in through the vent, and I shiver. Last night, the wind howled against the windows, and I felt like I was sleeping outside. There is no way I can stay upstairs if there’s a repeat of that. Although the couch wasn't uncomfortable, being cold and in a new place made it hard to fall into a deep sleep. Every little sound woke me, and I constantly had to remind myself where I was.
Once I rewrap myself in the blanket, I go downstairs but stop when I notice Dasher took my spot on the couch.
“Where the hell did you come from?” I walk closer and point at the floor. “Off.”
