Chapter Five
“My phone should be in this pocket.” Elliot’s words were even, but there was a subtle, underlying note of panic.
I hated the trepidation in his voice mixed with the sound of zippers ripping opening and closing. My heart nearly stopped and plunged into the depths of my rapidly souring stomach with each yank of a zipper and exasperated sigh.
Another Velcro ripped, and as his display lit up from his touch, the area flooded in the brightest of light.
“Found it! Wrong pocket. Forgot I tucked it into the inside one.” He wiggled and danced, the light from the display illuminating the storage locker space like a beacon. “I feel like Tom Hanks in Castaway when he made the fire.”
Even though I was ecstatic, my shoulders slumped, whether it was from exhaustion or whatnot, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I desperately needed and wanted to get back to the main space. No one would see or find us back here. We’d been gone long enough as it was.
“Flashlight works?” I asked, praying for a morsel of good luck.
He tapped the icon, and my hand flew to my brows to shield my eyes from the bright-as-the-sun light, only peeking through a thin and narrow gap between my fingers. For that brief, instantaneous second, I saw a truly ecstatic Elliot, who was beaming from the inside out.
Until a quick tap on his screen, and we were once again plunged back into darkness.
“Sorry. I’ll put the phone on night mode. It’ll give us some light but not blind us.” More fiddling and finger tapping on the screen. “Oh.” His voice plunged into the depths of darkness.
I waited for a follow up that never came and reached out to grip his arm.
“Oh, what? No night mode?” Not that it would surprise me. It’s been one of those days. Or nights.
“No, I have it in night mode now.” With the screen facing upwards, it was impossible to miss the downward turn of his lips and the tight expression on his face.
“What is it then?” I braced for another round of bad news.
“We have no cell service. ”
“What? Like none?” I sidled up beside him so we were shoulder to shoulder and stared at the top-right corner of the screen.
No Wi-Fi. No 5G. Not even the terrible 3G we were prone to receive on occasion in the mountains.
I shivered as the air turned cool all around me. “Seriously?”
After that whole ordeal? Nothing. We couldn’t call for help. We were stuck for at least a few more hours. Maybe overnight. Maybe a couple of nights!
I had no way to even let anyone know I was okay. I was trapped. He was trapped.
We were trapped together.
Tears built and made the ambient lighting blurry, and I worried there’d be a crack in my voice to match.
“Let’s just get out of this backroom and head back to the front. Maybe someone will be walking by and will tap on the window to check for anyone.” His voice pitched and dipped, betraying his outward confidence.
My hairline pulled back as realisation hit me, much like the locker had a few minutes ago. The house across the street looked vacant, but maybe a resident had run across and checked our store, only for neither of us to be visible. “Maybe they did already, and we missed it because we were back here, searching aimlessly for the lockers. ”
Why did every thought need to sail past my lips? And why was I getting mad? It wasn’t Elliot’s fault. Had I not forgotten my own phone in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to wait out the timing on the security. I could be home now if I hadn’t been so careless. But then … I wouldn’t be here with him. Of all the bad things to have happened today, being in his presence was hardly awful.
However, my brain had registered what my heart was hinting at. A heavy, self-loathing doubt laced into my words. “It’s my fault if they’ve been here, and we missed them.”
My fingertips started to tingle, and a wave of nausea settled in my gut. Suddenly, I didn’t feel very good. It was a horrible thought to have said out loud and the rising sound of my voice did nothing to help, plus the look on Elliot’s face mirrored the feelings I was fighting inside and that wasn’t helping the situation.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. It’s the crazy weather.” He reached down and grabbed my hand, aiming the lit-up display to guide our way out.
I tugged him back as the sour feeling intensified. “Is there a bathroom back here? I really need to go.”
“Yeah, it’s right here, off the staff locker area.” The light from the display moved up toward my face. “Are you okay?”
I could lie or tell the truth, and I wasn’t a good liar, Cassie had said as much .
“No. Not at all.” If I hadn’t voiced it, the tear running down my face surely announced all I was trying desperately to keep under wraps.
“We’re going to be okay, Sage. I promise. I was a Boy Scout as a child, we’ll be fine.” With the tenderest of touches, his thumb swiped across my cheek, removing the trickle of tears and replacing it with a small zing of warmth.
The sincerity in his voice and the upturned smile on the left side of his lips were hard to ignore, so I believed him even though we weren’t trapped outside and needed to build a lean-to and a fire. At least we were sheltered and had food.
He squeezed my hand. “Go use the bathroom.” He nudged toward the door with both male and female symbols on it and thrust his phone into my hand. “Take this so you can see what you’re doing.”
“Well, I know how to … you know.”
A sweet chuckle pierced the air. “Then use it to see where everything is, and you can check out your face. Make sure there’s no cut from the fall.”
“And what about you?” The pitch-black, inky darkness bothered him. A lot. And I felt guilty leaving him to manage it alone.
“I’ll stand here with my back to the door while you tell me—”
“I am not giving you a play-by-play.”
“Thank the beans for that.” His laughter was deeper, a soothing sound that put a bit of my rolling upset to rest. “Maybe tell me how you came to love reading so much.” He thumbed toward the small bathroom. “Go. I don’t want to be back here any more than we need to be.”
“Fair enough.” I stepped into the tiny bathroom and went about my business. The toilet flushing was exceptionally loud, something I never noticed in the normal hum of the everyday. Before I’d washed my hands, I opened the door.
“That was fast.”
“Still need to inspect my face but I wanted you to have some light.” I stepped back to the sink and lathered up my hands with the disgusting floral-scented soap.
Was this the way the management knew if someone washed their hands? The heavily perfumed stench was pungent. After rinsing, I scrubbed extra hard hoping to remove the smell, and then dried my hands with the sandpaper towels. Suddenly, I was super appreciative of Harvey for buying nicer soap and using plush hand towels.
“Mind if I check your face?”
I shook my head and held my breath. My heart was pounding a little harder at the mere thought of him searching my face and how I wished I’d taken more than a quick second to swipe under my eyes and tidy myself up.
Elliot grabbed his phone and turned the display toward me. “Close your eyes.”
Swallowing down a nervous knot of excitement, I quietly did as he instructed. My lids got brighter as he moved the flashlight across my chin, cheeks, and forehead.
“You hit your head here?” He gently touched the spot right above where it was tender, making me wince, however, there was an oddly welcome heat emanating from his fingertips that soothed as it moved.
My shoulders tensed as he brushed my hair out of the way. “Is it cut?”
His finger moved around, staying north of the sorest spot. “A little, but it’s not deep or anything, and doesn’t require stitches.”
“Well, that’s a relief, as neither of us is qualified for that.” I snickered.
His voice was low, barely above a whisper. “You do have a bit of a nasty bump forming, so we should keep watch for any type of concussion building, and you’ll probably score a decent bruise.”
“Awesome.” I sighed and tried to keep my voice light and airy. “Although it’s really no surprise, not to me at least. You maybe don’t bruise like a peach, but I sure do.” Blood rushed through my veins at warp speed, I put my fingers on his taut forearm and lowered the light away so I could open my eyes.
“So where the box hit you … you’ll bruise?” He looked horrified.
That wasn’t my intent. There was no reason for him to have any guilt. “It’s no biggie. If I run into the dishwasher, I bruise and likely sustain a cut too. Seriously. It’s crazy how delicate my skin is. Like onion skin.” I nodded, trying to assure him the cut on my forehead and the possible bruise on my ankle was truly no big deal. “Now, my turn.” My heart rate sped up. “Let me check you. Where did the door hit you?”
“Right here.” He pointed to a spot above his eyebrow. “But there’s no bump, and I didn’t get hit hard enough to leave a mark. I just left my pride on the door, is all.”
Still, I wanted the same moment. “Close your eyes. Let me double-check.”
He obeyed, and I scanned his face as quickly as I could while taking in everything. There was a little groove above the left side of his lip I’d never noticed before. Nesting in the arch of his eyebrow was a tiny mole, and his eyelashes fluttered under the light, much like my pulse. Dang, he was fine. But it wasn’t real. Guys like him didn’t exist except in romance novels.
I cleared my throat. “Glad you’re not hurt. Let’s get to the front, shall we?”
Elliot aimed the light in the direction we needed to leave.
“Wow, it seems less frightening with a little light.”
“Were you scared?” he asked as we advanced back toward the main area at a breakneck speed. Something metallic on his backpack jingled as we walked.
“No.” I shook my head and kept my focus on the shadows in the doorway. “You?”
“Never.”
I knew that to be a lie; we had both been a touch unnerved but each for different reasons. I was worried about the unseen monsters and creepy crawlies; I had no idea what was making his skin crawl.
We stepped out into the main area with a sigh of relief.
“Doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”
I glanced over at him, a strange feeling of desire building as I stared into his eyes. “No. Not at all.” I cast my gaze downwards, breaking our connection. “Maybe turn off your phone so you can save battery power. It’s not like we can plug it in or anything if it dies.”
“You sure?”
“Of course.”
The main area wasn’t pitch black like the windowless back room had been but was still dark, like being outside when it was a new moon. Well, maybe not even that bright; the town was still without power. The winds howled but at least it wasn’t pelting rain against the windows. There was a different scent too, the weakened smell of the pastries and coffee beans.
He turned off his phone and pocketed it. It took a few seconds, but surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to adapt back again to the absence of light. “So what do we do until we’re rescued? We have no cell signal, and the town is in a blackout.”
“We’re completely trapped, aren’t we?”
“Not necessarily. Someone must know you're here?”
I snorted. “No, my sister thinks I was heading to a friend's house after work, so she's not expecting me home for hours.”
That had been my backup plan, that way I had an out when meeting Fox if things didn’t go well.
“Will she get concerned when you're not home at all?”
I hung my head. “No, not really. Me not coming home isn't a big deal, neither is me coming home in the middle of the night. My brother-in-law is a firefighter and loves the night shifts when it’s his rotation. Because of that, she sleeps like the dead.” It was scary but true. It was a massive undertaking to awaken her, even in an emergency. “She may be somewhat concerned in the morning, but it won’t be a big deal. What about you? Will anyone go looking for you?”
His gentle waves of hair moved in time with his head shaking. “Nah, I live on my own, and I was closing up when the rain rolled in. I had clocked out before the power loss, so if the boss was to check time logs and all that jazz, according to the computer, I'd already left.”
“So now what?” It wasn’t the worst place to be stuck, but still. At least I wasn’t trapped with someone I hated, and I shuddered imagining how that would’ve gone.
Elliot was a stand-up guy, sweet and charming, and relatively easy to talk with. In his presence, there was a comfort I’d never felt before—like I wasn’t trying to pretend to be someone attractive or funny or well-liked. With him, I was just me. The kicker was, he didn’t seem repulsed by it.
However, maybe it was the circumstances. Or maybe Cassie was wrong, and the type of heroes I read about were true. Maybe. It was so confusing.
“We wait, I guess. I don't know what else to do. I've never been trapped before. Have you?” He said it in such a way it came off as a joking way to ask.
I shuffled my feet and took in the surroundings, wondering what we could do to pass the time. When I first arrived, I had added a couple of games.
“Why aren't you answering? Has this happened to you before?”
“Well...” I avoided his gaze.
“Wait, I was kidding, but you're not?”
“No.” I walked over to the window while pocketing my hands.
The town was still blanketed in an eerie type of darkness, as were the houses across the street. Did no one live there anymore? However, it was brighter outside than it was inside the Coffee Loft.
“Oh, I have got to hear this.” He dragged the wingback chair more out into the open. “Where? When? ”
I grabbed the other chair and pulled it beside his, curling into it and leaning my head against one of the wings. “Were you here when the tram lost power a couple of years back?”
“Yeah. Were you on the tram?” He pitched forward, arms resting on his thighs.
“No, but I was in the building. The trams had just unloaded when the power went out.” I shook my head as the memories flooded back. “What a night that ended up being. We were given blankets and flashlights and had the run of the place, although it was too cold at night to hang around outside.”
“Oh my gosh, and you were up there?” The tipping of his head and his perked-up posture were endearing.
A smile snuck its way onto my face, even though I didn’t want to. In the moment, it had been super scary because we’d been trapped on the top of a mountain, but now, looking back, it actually wasn’t that bad. Like this situation. We were safe, there was food and shelter, much like what we had here, and the views were amazing. Plus, being so high up, the town was all a glow and the stars… I’d never seen so many in my life.
“Yep. Ended up spending the night there and because the power still hadn't been restored, in the morning we were taken down the mountain in helicopters.”
“You got to ride in a helicopter?” His eyes widened, much like the excitement in his voice .
“It was no big deal.” Except that it was. My one and only helicopter ride, but I could still remember the whirring of the blades and the way my stomach flipped as we descended. It was an incredibly exciting moment.
“Were you all alone?”
“Up there? No, there were something like thirty people, give or take.” I never actually counted, but that’s what the news reports stated.
“I mean, were you with … a friend?”
I held my breath, and then wondered why? That event had been three years ago. Several failed relationships ago. “With my boyfriend at the time. We broke up not long after.”
And why had that been? I thought back, and then it hit me. He was a slob, both at his apartment, doing his job, and just the way he lived in general. If memory served me correctly, he didn’t even discard his garbage at the tram station; I was the one who cleaned up after him. Aside from his soothing voice, there wasn’t much about him to have been attracted to. Turned out, I had trusted my gut. He was also a terrible human being.
“Well, I’m sorry.” The Adam’s apple bobbed. He looked down at his hands, and then slowly back up to me. “Is there a boyfriend waiting for you now?”
“Nope.” I popped the p sound with a little too much enthusiasm. “Thing is, I'm not really good with relationships. I’m more of a serial dater kind of girl. It’s easier that way.” My gaze slowly rose from his hands, over his shirt, and up to his face—I was curious about his reaction.
“Is it?” He straightened up and leaned back.
“Oh, yeah.” I rambled on. “No long-term commitments, I can do my own thing. What’s not to want? A couple weeks here and there. Maybe a month and it’s time to cut them loose.” The guys never knew it though, as I wasn’t upfront at the start to let them know it was a limited-time deal.
“Why is that?”
I scoffed. “It’s just easier that way.”
“But why? What is it about us guys that has you ditching so quickly?”
My mouth hung open. There were several reasons but none that I thought he’d understand. Already, he’d put all the guys I’d dated to shame, and Elliot and I weren’t even dating. Would he change if we were? Would he find a way to make me need to dump him before he could hurt me?
Rather than give a solid answer, I stalled. Until I knew I shouldn’t. Being that he was a decent guy—and not someone I was dating—I felt I could share a little with him, chancing that he wouldn’t hold it against me. He didn’t seem the type.
“I don’t like being hurt.”
A gentle grin stretched out his lips. “No one does.”
“No, I get that. It’s just … well, it’s easier if I …” I sighed. “Commitments scare me. Because it’s not reciprocated. ”
Sure, it was lonely on the special holidays if I wasn’t with someone, but in reality, it was better that way. I didn’t like being the awkward guest at their birthday parties or staff functions or whatever event they had me tag along to, and most were never attached long enough for me to explain to my family who they were and why it was a new face. At least the super quick ones. Anything that lasted over three weeks was scary as Cassie started planning the wedding.
“I see. So you paint all guys with the same brush?” He raised the eyebrow with the mole high enough to hide under his wavy hair. Resigned, he slumped back into his chair.
The air was already tense from being stranded, and now I’d gone and made it even worse. Typical.
I didn’t know how to respond to his question, so I crossed my legs and readied for a redirect. “What about you? Are you a long-term dater or are you a serial dater like me?”
“Are you asking for your own personal interests?” His gorgeous head tipped to the side in just such a way it was immediately charming.
“Just general conversation.” Let’s see how similar—or dissimilar—he was to the guys I read about.
He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly; those long lashes bouncing until he made eye contact with me. “I guess I’m more of a commitment type guy. ”
Wow, really? “You guess?”
“Yeah, at least I try to be that. The women though, they don’t go for it. They find a reason to walk away or ghost me or use the line it’s not you, it’s me after a few weeks.” His shoulders slumped, and my heart broke a little.
I curled a little into myself, as that was me to a tee sadly, but still, I needed to ask, even though I never gave an explanation. “Do they ever tell you why?”
“Some do, sure, but they’re all cookie-cutter, stereotypical reasons. I’m not smart enough for them or a corporate climber.”
“And the ladies, they said that to you?” At least I had the courtesy to make up a lie if I thought the guy wasn’t smart – I’d never have the guts to tell it to his face.
He hung his head but didn’t answer.
The air crackled from the sudden tension, and a gust of wind blew down the street. Shifting, I uncrossed my legs and set my hands on my thighs.
“One girl even said I didn’t use the ‘L’ word enough.”
I cringed and groaned, rolling my eyes for added effect. “I hate that word. It’s just used so often it’s lost all its meaning.”
“You think so? Really? You’ve never loved one of your boyfriends?”
“Liked them sure, but no. Never expressed any deep love. They weren’t around long enough…” Fo olishly I stared at the floor and then dared to glance up to study his face. A strange mixture of unreadable emotions swirled across. “You? With your exes? Did you use the word frequently?”
“Only twice.” The heaviness of the apparent rejection hung in the air.
Part of the reason why I never used that word, aside from Cassie and Chad. If the other didn’t reciprocate the feelings, it was too painful and raw and I didn’t want to experience that. I’d seen what loving someone who broke your heart could do to a person.
“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person?” I closed my eyes for a heartbeat, chiding myself for speaking without thinking.
“Maybe?” A brow arched in response. “Perhaps she’s been wandering around this whole time just waiting for me to be single again?”
Was he talking about me? I swallowed. Although I had hoped he was single, as it kept my starry-eyed gazing to a healthy level and I wasn’t coveting something that wasn’t mine, how was I to have known he was single?
He repositioned himself, resting his forearms back on his thighs. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right person either.”
It was getting warm in here under Elliot’s heated gaze.
“Maybe you’ve been seeing him this whole time and never realised that he would be the one to fall for. Or go on a journey with.”
“Or more like, I’m waiting for the guy who’ll sweep me off my feet and …” But I couldn’t say the rest. For reasons I couldn’t figure out, I didn’t want to jinx anything. This—whatever was happening between Elliot and me—it felt good. And safe. No sense in throwing it away just yet.
“Then perhaps the right guy will come along and sweep you off your feet like it’s never happened before.”
I fanned myself with my shirt as a bead of sweat sizzled on the back of my neck. My pulse was racing, as were my thoughts. But those were as scattered as the wind-blown garbage beyond the Coffee Loft walls. I needed air, and I needed to move.
“I’m getting hungry, are you?”
I jumped out of my seat and meandered toward the coffee station. Surely, none of it was locked, and those donuts and pastries would be welcome in my rumbling stomach.
“I am, but we can’t take these.” He was footsteps behind me.
“Why not?”
“It’s stealing.”
I set my hand on my hip and put my weight on one foot. “We’re trapped in a building that probably has several building code violations since there is only one door, which is currently blocked, along with a bank of windows that don’t open. I think it’s okay if we eat some of this food. They’d likely throw it out anyway, right?”
“We sell the leftovers as day-olds the next morning. Sometimes the church groups pick them up, sometimes the daycares.”
“Well, they’re likely not coming by tomorrow to get their supply.” I stepped behind the counter and tried to find the display case handle. “What would you like?”
“Nothing, thank you. Even if we are trapped, it’s still stealing.” He lifted his backpack. “I probably have a granola bar and maybe a protein bar from a hike. We can share it.”
I tipped my head down and looked at him through the top of my eyes. “Seriously?”
“If you’re that hungry, you can have it all. I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not what I’m surprised by.”
“I’m not stealing anything. These are my employers, they pay my wages, and quite nicely I may add. I don’t need to take things from them.” His metaphorical foot went down. Albeit with a smile.
Holy beans. If it was one thing I didn’t peg Elliot for it was a straight shooter. “Fine, then. Can I borrow your phone? I need more light.”
“I can’t be an accessory to your theft.” However, there was a hint of amusement in his words as he gently hip-checked me.
“You’re in the same room, and you’re watching me open the display case.” I paused with my fingers curled around the edge of the sliding glass door, eyeing him up and wondering if I had gone too far, but the cat was out of the bag now. “Believe me, you’re already an accessory.”
“Really?” His heavy sigh filled the air I breathed in. Fiddling with his phone, he opened the notes app to give us a glow but not one as bright as the flashlight. “I’ve never committed a crime before.” He hung his head. “This is a first.”
Totally confused by his actions, my hand stayed put. Was he serious? Or was he playing me rather convincingly? Part of me hoped he was serious because if he was just kidding around, he was doing it well, and I didn’t like that at all. If it was one thing I detested, it was liars.
Slowly, as I slid open the display case an inch at a time, I watched him. He was ramrod straight, aside from his hands twisting together. I wasn’t being played—he was seriously not going to take anything.
Crime or not, I was starving, and I pushed the door fully open only to be greeted with the fresh scent of dough and sugar. My tummy rumbled in response to the olfactory assault.
“Sorry.” Elliot handed me his phone and walked around the counter, into the main part of the store. “I can’t do this.”
I wrinkled up my nose. “What about our gingerbread mochas?”
“I paid for those before I shut everything down.”
“Oh.” My voice fell, as I’d missed that transaction. Had I known, I would’ve paid for mine. “Well, thank you. Thought you made them as a ‘just because’.”
“I account for everything. An honest employee is a valued employee.”
I sure hoped Nina saw it that way.
“Honesty is a virtue so few have.” Unlike a certain family member who deceived his ‘beloved’ wife for months, possibly years. “Good on you. That ups your star power in my books.” Again? Why was my mouth running off like that? Why did my brain not try to stop it?
“I have star power?” A smug little smirk followed a tiny puffing of his chest.
“More than you know.” Thankfully, that came out under my breath, but I was sure he heard. Through the display case, it was hard to miss the slight swing in his swagger.
I was hungry, starving even, and I wanted a piece of everything,. However, I didn’t want Elliot to have guilt or to feel bad. A lightbulb went off. “Tell you what. How about I make a list of everything I take? Then I can turn it in to your boss or manager and pay for it when the system is up and running.”
In reality, it was the right thing to do. I’d offered the same at the top of the tram back when I was stuck up there, and the manager assured us it would all be taken care of. No doubt, the same would happen here, but if it helped assuage any of Elliot’s anxiety, I was willing to make a detailed and itemized list.
He nodded and came closer to the counter. “Sure, if that’ll make you happy.”
“Will it make you happy?”
“It’s a start.”