He smiled and shook his head. “I think we both know that I’m not. Goodnight, Blister.” Before I could get another word in, he closed his door.
* * *
There is something so intimate about sharing a bathroom with someone. Are they the type to leave all their things lying around? Dirty underwear? Flicks of toothpaste on the mirror? Would they steal my shampoo? Pick up their towels? Leave smudges inside the toilet? Yuck. Or heaven forbid, leave any sort of hairs… anywhere.
Shudder.
At first glance, Chase seemed quite tidy. The mirror was still partially fogged, but it looked clean enough. There was no underwear or dirty towels on the floor. The only clue he left behind of his presence was a small toiletry bag sitting on the counter, which he left unzipped. After a quick, and very innocent peek inside, I saw a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, and a razor, haphazardly strewn about it. There was more stuff, but that was as far as I could see from my vantage point. Don’t worry, I didn’t touch anything (I’m not a psycho, just curious).
My hands were like ice when I turned on the shower. I had been blessed with my mother’s small frame, which never seemed to warm up in the winter. I undressed quickly, double-checking the lock on the bathroom door. Once hot steam filled the room, I stepped inside, sighing gratefully as my body began to thaw. Other than warming me up, this shower would prove nearly pointless on the cleanliness scale, since I had no clean underwear in the cabin.
I stood under the hot spray for a good ten minutes, trying very hard not to think about Chase. Which was nearly impossible when I was staring at his green bar of Irish Spring soap and shampoo.
Gina would be hearing a strongly worded complaint from me when this week was over.
Yes. Week. If anybody was leaving, it would be him. First of all, as pathetic as it sounded, I had nowhere to go except an empty house. Being away at a semi-empty cabin the week before Christmas seemed more exciting than the brutal reminder that I was, in-fact, alone during the holidays. At least until Matt and Gina joined me on Christmas. A quiet week in a beautiful location, where I could write, and hopefully meet my deadline, was just what I needed. If Chase couldn’t handle it, then he could leave.
I washed and rinsed my hair, loofa’d my body, and braced myself for the cold chill that I would inevitably face once the water was shut off and I had to open the curtain to grab my towel. The worst part of showering. Once dressed, I de-tangled my long hair, darkened even more by the water, peed, brushed my teeth, removed my contacts, and replaced them with my glasses. Chase mentioned noticing that my hair was darker now. Years earlier, I had opted for a darker shade of brown and never looked back. Matt and I now looked more like twins than ever before—and I felt it gave my face a much less mouse-like appearance. I opened the door, checked all the locks in the house, turned off the kitchen light, and breezed past Chase’s closed door. His lights were off, and all was quiet as I locked myself into my room.
I would have given my right kidney to be wearing my flannel pajamas to bed. The box of food in my car, brimming with carbs like mac and cheese and bread, taunted me. It was midnight, but I was a snacky night-eater, and a few crackers sounded divine. Oh well, no matter. All of it could be overlooked, except those pajamas.
The day was beginning to catch up to me, so instead of writing for a few minutes like I had planned, I ignored the laptop sitting in the case and peeled off my jeans and shirt. A flimsy, white tank top and my underwear were not the pajamas of choice while trapped in a cabin with a man, but they were the best I could do. I checked the lock on my door once more, turned out the light, and slid under the covers. I prayed to the heavens above that there were no spiders lurking in the wooden walls of this tiny room.
* * *
The clock on my phone read 2am. My muscles ached from shaking so hard. Somewhere during the past two hours, my body heat had dissipated and left my tank-top clad body freezing at the drop in temperature. I shined my phone flashlight all around the room, looking for another blanket to add on top of the thin, moose and bear bedspread. My light landed on the dresser in the corner. I psyched myself up for ten seconds before I leapt out of bed like a ninja. After checking every drawer, I wanted to cry. No blanket. I glanced longingly at the crumpled quilt I had brought in from the car, but it was still wet from my snowy trek to the cabin.
The wall had a thermostat, but every attempt I made to turn on some sort of heat failed. I threw on my jeans and gently turned the doorknob. The house stood silent and undisturbed. Chase’s door was still shut. The air was no warmer out there than in my bedroom as I crept out into the living room. I shined my light around the cabin, looking for anything that could give me warmth.
The fireplace had long since died, but even my search for wood came up empty. Even if I found wood, I didn’t see any matches, and there was no way on this snow covered earth that I would be knocking on Chase Riley’s door, at two in the morning, to ask him for anything.
Plan B involved me wrapping the nasty tablecloth from the kitchen around my body for warmth, if I found nothing else better. My eyes scanned the room and landed on a large trunk on the side of the couch. A moment later, I opened the trunk, praying that nothing furry or leggy would jump out at me, when a soft, fuzzy blanket filled my view. It had seen a few years, and very likely, a few hundred house guests, but it may as well have been from heaven. I yanked it out of the box, flipped it out a few times (hopefully releasing any spiders nestled in its yarn), and wrapped it around my body before scampering back to my room. In my rush to get away, my blanket flipped and hit the open trunk just hard enough for the lid to slam shut. I yelped at the sound, but wasted no time running back to my room and shutting the door as quickly as I could, without slamming it.
I was in the process of re-wrapping the blanket around my body when I heard Chase’s door open. My body tensed. I wasn’t sure why I felt nervous, but sneaking out in the dark living room and rushing back to my room made me feel as though I had done something wrong.
“Blister?” A whisper sounded outside my door.
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t answering to that.
“Penny?”
“What?”
“Are you okay? I heard a loud noise.”
Ugh. Light sleeper. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was me. Sorry.”
There was a long pause before he added, “is there a dead body in there?”
“I can’t tell you unless you want to be next.”
There was a dramatic sigh before he said, “you know, I really hoped you weren’t a murderer.”
I smiled in spite of myself. “Goodnight, moron.”
“Night, Blister.”
For some reason, the world’s tightest and most uncomfortable jeans did not lend themselves to a good night’s sleep. They did provide extra warmth, even though that contribution did very little. Even the extra blanket wrapped around me failed to ward off the chill that was so saturated into my body. The wind had picked up sometime in the night, causing my window to rattle, keeping my already tender nerves on high alert. Finally, somewhere between the hours of four and five, the full body shakes subsided, and I slept.