Chapter 15-Tank
Last night was the best night of my life.
Hands down. No contest.
After the whipped cream shenanigans, we barely made it to the shower before round two.
Then came dinner—again.
Her pies were actually that good—pumpkin, pecan, apple, and my personal favorite, her.
We tried watching a movie, but five minutes in, she climbed into my lap like she belonged there and made me forget every scene.
Hell, she could've asked me to recite Shakespeare with a turkey baster in my hand, and I’d have done it if she kept kissing me like that.
But this morning?
This morning, I can feel her slipping.
Dani’s across the room now, fully dressed, hunched over her laptop at the makeshift desk we set up by the window.
She’s got her headphones on and a tight frown on her face as she edits clips from yesterday.
Her “professional mode” is back with a vengeance.
And just like that, we’re roommates again.
Not lovers.
Not even friends, apparently.
I try not to let it get to me.
But it does.
Because I want her.
And not just for a weekend.
“You okay?” I ask, keeping my voice casual as I bring her a mug of that cinnamon coffee she likes.
She startles a bit—didn’t even hear me come over—and gives me a brief smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.
“Yeah. Just trying to get through all the comments from yesterday and the scheduled content before the Wi-Fi flakes again.”
“Right.”
I set the mug down gently beside her.
She mutters thanks and keeps at it.
My chest tightens.
This isn’t what last night felt like.
I thought—hell, I don’t know.
Maybe I just hoped last night had changed something.
But she’s shutting it all down. Fast.
“Oh no! We’re snowed-in,” she says suddenly, glancing from her screen toward the window and back again with wide eyes. “Like really snowed-in!”
She’s not wrong.
There’s at least two feet of snow on the porch, and it’s still coming down like the sky’s mad at us.
“It’s been snowing since Wednesday,” I murmur, wondering why the sudden terror.
“Yeah, but that was fun and silly. This is serious,” she says, and I can hear her tension.
“Hey, it’s alright. Generator’s running, we’ve got food, shelter,” I offer, trying to soothe the rising panic in her voice.
“Yeah, but Finley just messaged. She says the cabin wasn’t prepared for a full weekend. She’s not sure how much gas we’ve got left. And the solar battery’s already halfway drained.”
I rub the back of my neck, then pull out my phone.
I send a quick message to my brother, Koa.
His reply doesn’t help.
“So, Koa says we got hit with a surprise Nor’easter,” I say aloud. “Looks like another couple feet might fall before this is all over.”
Dani swears under her breath.
It’s not her usual charming curses, either.
This is stress.
Fear. Distancing.
“Finley also says this is why we were supposed to come back last night,” Dani mutters.
“That’s not fair,” I say quietly.
“I’m just saying—”
“No, you’re panicking,” I say gently. “And I get it. This is your job, Dani. You don’t want to be unprofessional. You don’t want to lose control. But there’s something else going on here too. You and I both know it.”
She blinks at me. Her lips part like she wants to deny it.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she crosses her arms.
“I just think we need to get through this weekend without complicating it further.”
“Too late, Sweetheart,” I say, stepping back with a crooked smile. “It’s already complicated as hell.”
She gives a weak laugh.
I lean down, brush a kiss against her temple.
She lets me, but doesn’t lean in.
So yeah.
We’re snowed-in.
Cabin’s not prepped.
Wi-Fi’s glitching.
And the woman I just gave my heart to is pretending nothing happened.
Still, I’m not mad.
Because I’m not giving up either.
“You stay here,” I say, grabbing my jacket. “I’m gonna check the generator myself, see if there’s some gas lying around, and I’ll haul in more firewood.”
“Okay,” she says softly.
And even though her back’s to me now, I swear her shoulders sag with relief when I leave. I frown.
Don’t get too comfortable with the distance, Dani, cause I’ll be back.
I always come back for what’s mine.