Chapter Seventeen
Liam
I’m still reeling, my pulse pounding and my body humming as Maggie makes a break for the doors. Every instinct screams at me to let her go, to give her the space she clearly thinks she needs. But I can’t. Not after that kiss. Not after the way she felt in my arms.
By the time I step outside, the snow is falling harder than before, blanketing the lot and swallowing any hint of the pavement beneath. Most of the cars are buried, their shapes barely visible in the swirling white. I spot her immediately, struggling against the elements, and head straight for her.
“Shoot!” I hear Maggie groan, frustration bleeding into her voice as she tugs at the door handle of her car. It’s frozen shut, and she’s digging at the snow piled against it with her bare hands.
“There’s too much snow,” I call out as I approach, but she doesn’t stop.
“I can do it,” she snaps, her words determined but trembling with the cold. “I can get my car out and back to the hotel.”
I crouch down next to her, the icy wind biting at my face as I watch her scrape at the door, her fingers already red from the cold. “Maggie,” I say softly, cutting through the howling wind. “You’re not getting anywhere like this.”
She glares at me, her breath puffing out in sharp, visible bursts. “I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”
“Sure,” I say with a slow smirk, standing back up and crossing my arms. “Let me know how that works out for you when your hands turn into ice blocks and you’re still stuck here an hour from now.”
Her glare intensifies, but I see the hesitation flash in her eyes. She knows I’m right, even if she doesn’t want to admit it.
I step closer, the warmth of my body shielding her from the brunt of the wind. “Come back inside,” I say, my tone gentler now. “The snow’s not letting up anytime soon. You’re not driving anywhere tonight.”
“I can’t just…” she starts but trails off.
“You can’t dig your way out of this storm, Maggie,” I say. “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up and figure it out in the morning.”
For a moment, she looks like she might argue again, her lips parting as she shivers against the cold. But then she lets out a long, defeated sigh and stands, brushing the snow from her coat.
“Fine,” she mutters, her eyes darting anywhere but mine. “But just until the snow clears.”
I grin despite myself. “Okay, Maggie.”
As I lead her back toward the lodge, a small part of me hopes the snow doesn’t let up anytime soon.
At the front desk, the clerk informs me about the blizzard warning. It rolled in fast, catching everyone off guard, and now there’s no getting around the mountain until morning. I ask about rooms, half-expecting them to be fully booked, but luck is on my side—barely. There’s one room left.
Perfect.
I book it without hesitation, though I’m well aware Maggie’s probably not going to be thrilled about the arrangement.
As I take the key card, I glance back toward the lobby.
She’s by the fire, her hands stretched toward the flames, trying to shake off the cold.
Her cheeks are still pink from the icy wind, and despite her obvious frustration, she looks…
soft. Beautiful. Like she belongs here, wrapped in firelight.
Shaking myself out of it, I walk back over to her and hold up the key card. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
Her eyes widen as she turns to me, her mouth parting slightly. “Wh-what?” she stammers, her voice uncertain.
“A warm shower,” I clarify, smirking as her blush deepens. “There’s a blizzard. We’re stuck here for the night.”
“Great,” Maggie exhales, the sound dripping with sarcasm as she runs a hand through her hair. There’s an underlying tension in her voice that makes me want to close the space between us.
“Look,” I say, keeping my tone casual. “It’s just one room. You take the bed, I’ll take the floor. It’s either that or you keep trying to defrost yourself here by the fire all night. Your call.”
Her lips press into a tight line, and for a moment, she looks like she’s weighing her options. Finally, she lets out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” she mutters.
I grin, unable to help myself. “I knew you’d see it my way.”
“Don’t push your luck, Thompson,” she warns, grabbing her coat from the arm of the chair.
“Noted,” I say, holding my hands up in mock surrender as I lead her toward the elevator.
As we step inside, the air feels heavier, charged. I can feel her glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, but I keep my gaze forward, biting back the grin tugging at my lips.
Tonight just got a lot more interesting.
She stays silent as we ride the elevator, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The only sound is the hum of the machinery and the faint chime when we reach our floor.
Even as I lead her down the dimly lit hallway, she doesn’t say a word, but the tension radiates off her in waves.
Every step she takes feels heavier than the last, like she’s bracing herself for something.
I glance over my shoulder, catching her quick, frustrated exhale. She’s clearly annoyed—not just with the situation but, if I had to guess, with herself. It’s written all over her face: she hates that she’s attracted to me.
“Here we are,” I announce as we stop in front of the room. I hold up the key card, turning to face her fully. “Our room.”
Her brows furrow at that, and she clears her throat. “Before we go in there, we need to set some ground rules.”
I lean against the doorframe, slipping the key card between my fingers and letting a smirk tug at my lips. “Okay,” I say, keeping my tone light. “Ground rules. Shoot.”
Her lips purse, and for a second, she looks so serious I almost laugh. Almost.
“First,” she says firmly, holding up a finger, “no crossing any boundaries. That means no sneaking over to my side of the room, no funny business, no… whatever it is you’re thinking right now.”
“Agreed,” I reply, raising my hands in mock surrender. “What else?”
“Second,” she continues, her cheeks pinkening, “the floor is yours. The bed is mine. Non-negotiable.”
“Fair enough.”
“And third,” she adds, pausing for dramatic effect, “no flirting.”
That one makes me laugh outright. “Maggie,” I say, my voice dropping just a fraction, “if you think I can stop flirting with you, you might be giving me too much credit.”
Her eyes narrow, and I swear, even when she’s glaring at me, she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.
“Fine,” she huffs. “Then I’ll ignore it. Completely.”
I push off the doorframe and swipe the key card, the lock beeping softly as I hold the door open for her. “You do what you’ve gotta do, Maggie,” I say, stepping aside so she can walk in first. “But for the record, I’m not great at following rules.”
She gives me a pointed look as she brushes past, her shoulder barely grazing mine. “We’ll see about that, Thompson.”
I chuckle under my breath, watching as she surveys the room, her head held high despite the tension between us. If this is how she wants to play it, I’m all in.
This is going to be fun.
"Can I ask you a question?" I say, breaking the silence as Maggie drops her coat onto the plush, king-sized bed.
She pauses, smoothing the fabric out of habit, before exhaling. "Sure."
"Why didn’t you fight me harder?" I lean against the dresser, hands shoved deep into the pockets of my jeans, trying to read her expression.
She turns to face me, her brows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," I begin to explain, "you didn’t protest as much as I thought you would. You could’ve refused the room. Told me to go to hell. Something."
Maggie crosses her arms over her chest, a defensive gesture, but there’s something vulnerable about the way her shoulders lift.
Her eyes search mine for a beat before she answers much quieter than I expect.
"I don’t know, Liam. Maybe… maybe being with you, stuck in a room in the middle of a blizzard, isn’t the worst thing in the world. "
Her honesty catches me off guard, and for a moment, I just stare at her, stunned. The way the soft lighting reflects in her eyes makes my chest tighten, and I realize just how much I’ve wanted to hear her say something like that.
"Well," I say, trying to keep the mood light even as my pulse kicks up a notch, "that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me."
She lets out a soft laugh, the kind that makes her nose crinkle just slightly, and I swear it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. "Don’t get used to it. It’s the blizzard talking."
"Sure it is," I reply, my smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth.
She rolls her eyes, turning toward the window, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself. Snow is coming down hard, a swirling curtain of white against the glass.
"Do you think it’ll let up by morning?" she asks, wistful.
"Maybe," I say, watching her. But I’m not thinking about the snow. All I can think about is how she’s here, in this room, with me. And how I’m somehow going to convince her that being stuck with me is exactly where she’s supposed to be.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Maggie says with a yawn, rubbing her arms. “I’m freezing.”
“I’ll see if they can send something warm up for you to sleep in,” I reply, already reaching for the room phone.
She stops mid-step and chuckles, the sound laced with disbelief. “Okay, Thompson.”
“What?” I ask, grinning as she zips past me toward the bathroom. “I’m being a gentleman here.”
Maggie pauses at the bathroom door, her hand resting on the handle. She glances over her shoulder, her lips tugged into a sly smile. “Was this your plan all along? To get me undressed?”
I lean against the edge of the desk, crossing my arms, and lift an eyebrow. “I’m not going to lie to you, Cooper. The thought of you naked has crossed my mind a time or two.”
Her laugh is sudden, bright, and genuine. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You asked,” I shoot back, enjoying the flush that creeps up her neck.
“Right.” Maggie bites her lip, pretending to consider something. “But tell me, Liam, is this how you usually get women out of their clothes? Blizzards and fancy lodges?”
I feign offense, placing a hand over my heart. “Are you suggesting I orchestrated a snowstorm just to get you in this room with me?”
“Wouldn’t put it past you,” she quips, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Okay, fine,” I admit, throwing my hands up. “I called in a favor with Mother Nature. Took weeks to plan. She almost bailed on me at the last minute, but I convinced her it was worth it.”
Maggie rolls her eyes, but her smile softens. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously charming,” I correct.
She groans, pushing open the bathroom door. “Let me guess, you’re going to have something witty to say when I come out, too?”
I smirk, watching her disappear into the bathroom. “Wouldn’t put it past me.”
The sound of her laughter echoes behind the closed door, and I can’t help but grin. Something about Maggie makes teasing her the most fun I’ve had in ages.