2. Alani
Alani
Days of traveling via a multitude of buses have left me exhausted. Never in my life have I done something so out of my comfort zone. It’s why I pushed my body to its limit, staying away when I needed the rest.
So, passing out as soon as I made it to the cabin I’ve been yearning to see in person for an eternity? Not totally crazy.
Probably shouldn’t have lowered my guard to that point, though.
Now there’s a weight against my chest that’s making it hard to breathe. Is it the weight of anxiety pushing down at the thought of going so far, just to be rejected?
I mean, what I’ve done is outright crazy. Didn’t give any warning whatsoever.
At the soft meow , I realize the weight is more of a physical thing.
Cracking my eyes open, I’m staring into two sapphire-colored slitted eyes. Resting against my chest, a white Persian cat watches me.
I gasp softly. “Mr. Whiskers, is that you?”
The cat purrs, and I freaking melt. Oh my goodness.
I’ve seen pictures over the last year, sure, but he’s always been only on paper. Now he’s here, soft to the touch and very much real.
“You are so freaking cute. I’ve waited forever to meet you.” Murmuring the words, I’m distracted for a minute before I hear movement outside of the room I’m currently in.
A room that looks very lived in. His bedroom, I’m sure.
I can’t believe I’m sleeping in Dean Francis’ bed. Talk about a dream come true. Instead of having him curled next to me like in my fantasies, my only company is his cat.
“We are going to properly meet. But for now…” Moving to sit up, I look toward the door.
Just thinking about Dean has my heart pounding in my chest from nerves. I’m about to properly go face to face with a man I’ve been wanting to give my heart to for ages.
The first and only time doesn’t count. Even back then, I didn’t get the chance to speak with him more than a numb appreciation of him making it.
Dad mentioned the guy from time to time, but I was too distracted by managing my own life to figure out who he was writing to.
Thanks to their communication, I was able to get hold of Dean in the first place, thanks to the letters he kept.
Abandoning the bed, I creep out of the room. As I walk, I’m distracted by the small details of the cabin.
He’s explained it in little details now and then whenever he’s worked on his home, and I saw little snippets in pictures he’d mail me, but I’ve always wanted to see it as a whole.
Now look at me, walking the halls, searching for him. Everything still feels so unreal. Could I still be dreaming?
Mr. Whiskers makes finding Dean easy. The older male is hunched over an open window, his eyes glued to the heavy rainfall. There isn’t anything interesting going on out there unless he’s mesmerized by the sway of pine needles.
I noticed the gray clouds on my way up when I hitched a ride with someone who knew of Dean’s existence, but I never could have imagined such a storm would roll in. Is this kind of weather normal?
I don’t care to wonder for long. Instead, I am too distracted by the sight before me to think about anything happening outside.
Dean’s t-shirt clings to his muscles like a second skin, the fabric stretched taut over the hard lines of his back and shoulders. I’ve seen him before, memorized the way he moves—but being this close, watching the shift of his body in real time, sends an electric thrill through me.
His arms flex as he braces against the windowsill, the subtle ripple of strength making my breath catch.
A man who has two decades on me should not be this attractive. Leaves me to wonder if this is why I struggled to get along with any of the guys while at college. None of them were like Dean.
The college guys are all wiry limbs and smooth, boyish faces, still trying to figure out who they are. Dean looks like he’s been forged in another era—broad shoulders, and a frame that could block out the sun.
Just looking at him without being noticed is enough to send butterflies exploding in my stomach, and heat crawling up my neck. Where the boys my age feel temporary, still growing into themselves, Dean is permanent. Solid. The kind of man who looks like he’s been carved out of the mountain itself.
He sighs, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through the quiet room, and my body reacts before my mind can catch up—another traitorous flush of heat, a pulse beating too fast.
The storm outside rages, but all I can focus on is the way his presence fills the space, raw and untamed, like the thunder rolling in the distance.
My lungs burn as I forget how to breathe. Leaning forward, the slightest shift gives me away.
Hearing the creak beneath my step, he jerks to look my way.
His hair is a little longer, shaggier. Looks like he’s messed it up with his fingers many times over.
Remembering how to breathe, it comes in shaky.
I’ve waited for this moment for years. Pictured what the first thing would be that I’d say to him as soon as I got the chance to tell him something to his face.
Right now, I feel like a doe caught in headlights.
Dean seems to know exactly what to say. The time I spent in his bed has given him ample opportunity to put his thoughts into words.
“What were you thinking? The world is dangerous, Alani. Did you tell anyone what you were planning before doing something so reckless?” Running his fingers through his hair, he scolds me with a sigh so heavy, I’m surprised the ground doesn’t shake.
“You didn’t breathe a word in any of our communications. ”
My toes curl, and I try not to acknowledge the tingling in the pit of my stomach.
He probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing how much I like it when he worries about me. It’s so much better when I can hear the words in that deep voice of his. Hearing the emotion behind them is a surreal experience.
Should I tell him that my time on the mountain has been a wild ride since I arrived? From accepting a ride from a stranger, telling them that I am not around here, and that my arrival would be unexpected? No, that would be what pushes him over the edge.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I hugged myself, trying to take this seriously. Coming to the small town wasn’t the only reckless thing I’d done. The list is rather long, and I want to make sure I take this on carefully.
“I wanted to see you,” I confess, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them. “But that’s not all. I wanted to know if the offer you made me… the one from months ago… still stands.”
His brow furrows, shadows flickering in his gaze like he’s sifting through old memories, trying to place what I’m referring to. Does he not remember? The thought stings more than I expect.
If you ever need somewhere to go, you can stay with me. Those few words bolded and italicized had been my lifeline. I’d clutched them tight, turning them over in my mind until they were worn smooth from repetition.
When my lease ended, I made my choice—packed my things—swapped in-person classes for online ones. Took the leap, foolish or brave, I still wasn’t sure.
Now, standing here under the weight of his silence, I wonder if I’ve misread everything.
“You said if I needed a place, you had a guest room.” The words taste bitter as they leave my lips. His frown deepens, and my stomach plummets. A dry, humorless laugh escapes me. “You didn’t mean it, did you? Oh. Well… whoops.”
He curses under his breath, sharp and startled.
I don’t even have time to blink back the burn in my eyes before he’s right in front of me, his hands hovering inches from my face—close enough to feel the heat of him, but not touching.
His expression is pure panic, like he’s just realized something terrible.
“I remember.” Rasping the words, his fingers curl and uncurl before his hands drop. “I meant them, of course. That offer always stands. You’ve just caught me off guard, Alani. You never mentioned anything in our emails… What went wrong?”
He shoves the heel of his hand against his eye, like he’s trying to rub away his frustrations.
How do I explain to him that my motives are entirely fueled by a crush I have on my dead dad’s best friend?
All that time on those buses, and I didn’t think to create some kind of excuse?
“I didn’t renew my lease, so I don’t have anywhere to stay. I can look for a cheap apartment here in town, get a job and—”
“No.” Interrupting the suggestion firmly, he sighs and shoves his fingers through his hair. “You can stay here. We’ll… we’ll get this figured out. You just picked a bad day to do something like this.”
Like the weather feels the need to prove his point, the wind howls like an animal outside.
“Have you eaten?” Making his voice softer, he makes my stomach flutter again at the concern in his voice.
Pursing my lips, I shrug, and he curses again.
I seriously need to stop making him worry about me.
If only it didn’t feel so good.