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“You’re saying it like you—like you’re going to be next to me years from now,” she says on a shaky breath that both confuses me and makes me fear its implications.
“Annika, I—”
“Morning!” Hanna’s voice interrupts me, and I’m slightly annoyed. But at the same time, a little thankful.
We haven’t known each other for that long. I have no idea if what I’m feeling is the result of our forced proximity, cooped up in this—granted, large—villa, or if it’s all real. There’s this sense inside me like I want her for the rest of my life, but is it real? What about her, does she share the sentiment? Can she trust it? Or is she going through the same erratic trains of thought as I am?
“Morning.” I turn to Hanna, swallowing my worries for now.
She’s wearing what is clearly my brother’s t-shirt, and he shows up right behind her, in nothing but his joggers. Thank God I take care of myself and have a fairly fit body, because otherwise I would have quite a complex next to him looking like a damn surfer-boy with his sun-kissed, toned form, and wild blond curls. I am a little jealous that Annika is witnessing this.
I look down and catch her gaze on him, lingering after she says good morning, before she turns her attention back to the painting. Okay, maybe I’m a bit more than a little jealous.
Hanna takes a seat on the other side of the table, and I join Finn in the kitchen, fiddling with a pot of coffee as he pulls some ingredients out of the fridge.
“This storm better be easing soon, because we’re quite low on food. These are the last ones.” He places a half empty carton of eggs on the gray granite countertop.
“I’ll just have some granola and yogurt. There’s still plenty of that,” I say.
“Actually, I could go for some of that as well,” Annika says without turning her head from the canvas, and Hanna signals that she would like that too.
“Three to one, I guess. Enjoy your eggs.” I turn to Finn, and he seems pleased. He’s always been well taken care of, not that he doesn’t know the value of money, but he’s never really been in a situation where food was running low and there was no indication of when the next meal would be.
I hope he will never be.
I take bowls, yogurt, and granola to the table, while Finn makes an omelet for himself, and brings the coffee over.
“Any news on when this storm is supposed to finish?” Hanna asks.
“Why? Are you in a hurry to run away from me, darling?” Finn slides in the seat next to her, pinching her chin and pulling her to him.
“Yup.”
He laughs, and she playfully rolls her eyes. I’m not sure what to make of this, but my brother’s eyes are awfully sparkly.
“Forecast said that it should have eased off today. Obviously, that’s not the case. So hopefully in max two or three days, it will be over. We’ll have to check if our boat is still whole, but honestly, I doubt it.”
“I’m not gonna cry about it,” Finn adds. “It was a fairly cheap speedboat.”
“You’ll give us a ride back to Queenscove, right?” I nudge Annika, and she smiles.
“Can I think about it?”
“No.”
She laughs and shakes her head.
“Ours—well, our rental, is in the boathouse. So hopefully there’s no damage,” Hanna says.
“One of the other guys will come and get us if not. No worries there,” Finn reassures them.
“You’re coming with us after the storm anyway,” I add, watching as Annika turns to face me with a lifted brow.
“Are we now?” She asks in a high tone, dropping her canvas and paintbrush on the table.
“Well, you’re no longer in your house, you’re running out of supplies here, and I… umm… I want you there.”
“You don’t sound very convincing, brother.”
