Chapter 2
Mason
Everywhere I go, I’m reminded of her. The woman who lives across from me.
Baby It’s Cold Outside plays above my head as I try to enjoy my food.
Surrounding me, festive flickering lights decorate the Skyline Bar & Grill.
Like many businesses in this town, it feels like Santa Claus has thrown up everywhere.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get away from all this Christmas crap.
The burger in my hand oozes as I tighten my grip. Mouth curling into a deeper frown, I finish the last few bites before dusting my fingers clean.
Have to say, food this good is worth getting all that festive mess shoved down my throat.
Paying my bill, I’m dusting crumbs from my shirt before leaving the bar stool.
Thanking the staff as they keep busy with the rush of foot traffic, I swallow down their Happy Holidays and make my way out.
Getting in my truck, I notice the heavy layer of snow making its way down the sky. Nose scrunching, I tear my gaze away and get on the road.
The town feels busier. Everyone is walking about, stopping at all the small shops lining the streets to buy gifts for their loved ones.
If I had someone to buy anything for, would I be like them? Freezing to death as I move from one building to the other? Just thinking about it forces me to acknowledge the loneliness that comes with being alone.
Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I try my best to get away from the sight of it all. Unfortunately, it’s easier said than done.
Settling at my favorite stoplight, the one that takes too long to change, I see her. My neighbor. Someone who apparently has someone to buy something for.
Stepping out of the Velvet Book with a bag in her hands, I’d recognize the curve of her smile from anywhere. Like the sun, it hurts to stare for too long.
After all of this time, I should be declared blind.
She’s wearing that fluffy white coat of hers, the one I despise. The one that makes her blend in with our surroundings on the mountain. Doesn’t she realize how dangerous it is to wear something like that? She’s asking for trouble, and I’m not even sure she realizes it.
Pinching my mouth into a thin line, I drink in the way her hair catches a gust of winter air, sending the sandy blonde hair whipping around her. With reddened cheeks, it makes me wonder if she’s bundled up enough.
Even now, she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. A part of me still believes she’s not real. Just a figment of my imagination.
Damning her coat and worrying about her being bundled enough are the little things that’ll get me in trouble. Yet, my eyes linger, like I’m in a trance. I’ve lost all control when it comes to everything that is Nova.
Behind me, someone honks, urging me to move. Unfortunately, the sound doesn’t just reach my ears. Nova looks over, curious at the disturbance.
Scowling at the thought of getting caught looking her way, I’m caught before I can even think to look away.
We make eye contact, and I know it’s over. I’ve been noticed.
Another honk leaves me stomping down on the gas pedal. Flooring it away, I don’t let my eyes fall to my rear view mirror so I can catch one last glimpse of her. Instead, I focus on getting back on the mountain.
If she’s in town, I can go a few hours soaking in peace without worrying about her hurting herself.
Just thinking about her hitting the ground yesterday still has me grinding my teeth. If only she were the kind of person to ask for help. Crazy enough to buy the abandoned cabin across from me, I learned rather quickly just what kind of independent person she is.
Shaking my head like I can knock the image of her out, I put my focus on the mountain and will myself to get home faster.
Taking each curve home, I slow as I near my home. Up ahead, I see the same sight that makes my eyes twitch.
A car is hovering between our homes. From the phone sticking out of the passenger window, I know they’re taking a picture of Nova’s decorations.
Like the town, the young woman has decorated the hell out of the outside of her home.
I’m talking flashing lights, a blow-up snowman that somehow hasn’t been blown away, and too many silver icicles.
She’s even got a stereo resting on her porch, constantly playing music for anyone to listen to.
Can’t say I know too many people who decorate the trees outside of their cabin, either, but she’s done it. Bulbs and lights, the whole thing.
It’s over the top. If the outside of her home looks this bright, I can only imagine the inside. How the hell does she run it all at once without costing herself a fortune? I don’t get it one bit.
Running a hand down my face, I try not to think about her inviting me inside to let me see inside her festive world.
Trying to give them time to enjoy the view that haunts me daily, my patience runs thin rather quickly. Unable to reach my driveway, a sigh escapes my lips. Honking my horn once is enough to push them forward.
Parking in front of my home, I take in my cabin. Compared to hers, mine feels lackluster. It’s not jealousy that fills me, but something else. Something that makes this hollowness feel that much more apparent.
Leaving my truck, the cold air seeps straight through me. Sniffing, I slip into my cabin. Needing some warmth, I distract myself long enough to throw together a fire. Once the logs are crackling and I’ve shed my coat and boots, I move to settle.
Taking a seat in the recliner resting only a handful of feet away from the flames, I sink deep into the cushion and stare ahead.
There aren’t any soft tunes playing, or any flashing lights. No tree tucked in the corner with boxes beneath. My home feels colder than usual.
Silence surrounds me. What should be peaceful feels far more unsettling. Wind howls outside, blowing more snow around. The weather gets worse as the sun sets. At this rate, it’ll be dark.
Watching the flame flicker, my brows lower deep.
Will Nova make her way home safely? Without the sun and all of this snow, I’m willing to bet that she’ll have a hard time.
Soaking up the silence, I lose count of how many minutes I sit here waiting for any signs of life outside of my home.
Vehicles slowly pass by, enjoying how the lights reflect on the snow. They stall, but they always leave. It’s only once I hear the sound of a door opening and shutting that I feel my shoulders relax.
If I hold my breath, I’ll hear the crunch of her boots against the snow before they hit her porch, but I don’t need to go that far, do I? Yet I do, simply because I can’t help myself. It’s a problem I haven’t been able to kick.
Instead of hearing the distant thump of steps against her wooden porch, I hear thumps much closer, those on my porch. Just when I think my ears are playing tricks on me, there’s a knock on my door.
Heart lurching right alongside my body, I’m on my feet in an instant. I don’t think about ignoring it like most people who find their way to my home. Instead, I’m coasting toward the front. My lungs burn, begging me to take a breath.
I can’t, not when I know she’s on the other side of the door. Hell, I can’t remember the last time she entered my space. It’s been too long.
Pulling open the door, I finally inhale. My head spins with relief, while my heart thumps in my chest. While my brain tells me that I shouldn’t be feeling anything for my younger neighbor, the rest of my body does whatever the hell it wants.
“Nova.” Grunting her name, I drink in her appearance. Unlike earlier, I can take in the fine details.
Tilting her head up to meet my gaze, up this close, she’s breathtaking. Despite being blue, her eyes look more gray today. Must be all the snow. She’s hesitant before me.
“They, um, put this in mine.” Trying to explain herself, she untucks her arm and pulls out two envelopes, both marked with my name.
Staring at the offering, I take in her bare fingers. She’s got small hands.
Taking the letters, my mouth curls downward. “They do that a lot.”
She looks nervous, bouncing on one heel to the other. She nods and sucks on her teeth. If she’s like me, she’s probably remembering that I had to leave an envelope at her door the last time. Unfortunately, she wasn’t home for me to share a conversation with her like this.
“I’m sure they’re just swamped with the holidays and all. Mistakes happen.” Chewing on her lip, she shivers as the cold seeps past her jacket.
How long will it take for her to slip inside her home and get a fire going? It would be faster to invite her inside and let her settle in front of my fireplace instead.
Inviting her inside sends alarms through my head, but I’m a bastard for wanting to keep her right here.
She’s given me what she needed to. Not having any reason to stick around, she could spin on her heel and return to her own world.
But she can’t, not when I’m not ready to wrap up this conversation just yet.
“Are you alright?” The question leaves me with a sigh, and she tilts her head with confusion all over her face. “Yesterday, I mean.”
Nova jerks back before letting out what sounds like an attempt at a laugh. “Oh, right. You saw that?”
We both know I did. I was an ass for not checking up on her sooner. Then again, what right do I have to get near such a bright light?
Leaning against the door frame, my arms cross over my chest. Sighing under my breath, I squint at her house. I want to ask her why she goes through the effort. Instead, I clear the fist-sized lump that forms in the back of my throat as her cheeks grow in color.
So fucking pretty.
“Be careful next time. Or, better yet, ask for help.” Jerking my chin toward her home, I don’t outright spell it out for her, but I can only hope she understands what I’m offering.
I can help her. Hell, she can ask me to hold the ladder for her, or catch her the next time she loses her footing. I don’t want to have to leave my home every time she decides to do something reckless to make sure she can finish her task in one piece.
Looking at me like I’ve grown a second head on my shoulder, she slowly nods. “I’ll keep that in mind. Though I’ll try not to annoy you too much.”
She could never. It’s more frustrating that I can’t just help her without being asked to make myself feel better.
Throwing a thumb over her shoulder, she murmurs of getting back home. The air is freezing, and I’ve been too focused on her lips to notice her teeth chattering.
Instead of inviting her inside like I want to, I’m stepping back and forcing my body to shut the door as soon as I wish her a good night. I might look strong on the outside, but I’m terribly weak on the inside.
It’s a miracle I don’t cave. Still, I linger long enough to hear her leave. Once she’s tucked back into her cabin, I remind myself how bad I’ve got it before returning to my silence.