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“I want your room.”
I clench my fists. A whole bespoke cabin in the mountains and Hunter only designed it to have three rooms. What kind of billionaire is he?
“Fine,” I say. I’m not used to giving in to anyone except my father. But in this case, I want all the negotiations to be done with as swiftly as possible. I didn’t come here to chat with Kira Solace, I came here to get away from everyone. That includes her, even if my thoughts have, from time to time, been visited by her and the way she felt in my arms at Hunter’s wedding. “I will move my stuff. But you’ll have to change the sheets.”
Kira smiles. “I’m happy to. Thank you.”
For someone so quiet, she certainly drives a hard bargain. “Yeah…whatever.”
I wakeup at seven in the morning to my whole body sweating. “What the…”
I sit up and wipe sweat off my brow, kicking off the covers and breathing a sigh of relief. It wasn’t this hot when I went to bed, was it?
I get up and pull on a sweatshirt before heading out to the upstairs hall to check the thermostat.
Seventy-two degrees.
I know I definitely left it at sixty-five when I went to bed.
From downstairs, I can hear humming and the clatter of pots and pans.
Kira…
I crank it back down. It’s not nearly that cold out to justify a balmy seventy-two.
I grit my teeth and walk down the stairs.
When I enter the kitchen, I’m hit with a sweltering burst of air. It’s a mess. Kira has her back to me, bobbing back and forth, making some smooth concoction while eggs and bacon sizzle on the stove.
“Why is it so hot in here?” I ask.
Kira doesn’t respond. She sings a lyric to a song and then shakes her hips.
“Hello?”
Again, she doesn’t respond. I peer at her a bit closer. Must have headphones in.
I stomp over to her. “Kira!”
Kira sees me in her periphery and leaps out of her skin. She pulls out her earbuds. “Orlie! You scared me!”
“Why was it seventy-two degrees when I woke up?”
Kira takes a couple of deep breaths, still trying to shake the shock. “Because I was cold last night.”
“You changed it from sixty-five to seventy-two. That’s seven degrees.”
She tends to the eggs and bacon with a spatula. “I know basic math, thanks.”
“That’s too hot.”
“I like to not turn into an ice cube when I’m sleeping. You know, it’s a self-preservation thing.” She goes to the green concoction and takes a sip. Her face curls. One of those green smoothies everyone claims to like but they actually just taste like dirt.
“Well, I like to be at a logical, comfortable temperature,” I say.
Kira shrugs. “I’ll put it on seventy tomorrow night.”
“No, not seventy. Sixty-five is a perfectly fine temperature for our purposes.”
