Meredith
I’m snuggled so far beneath the duvet when I wake up, I panic. I peer out of the tiny hole I’ve created with my fingers, realising I’m in Dylan’s bedroom. The air that creeps in through the gap tells me that it’s freezing, so I close the gap, hoping to get some sleep.
The sound of snow being shoveled makes my eyes fly open, and I groan inwardly. Of course, Dylan would be up early— he grew up on a farm, after all.
I reach out for my phone, which helpfully informs me that it’s on a three percent battery. I doubt Dylan has an Apple charger because his phone wasn’t any I recognised.Maybe the road has been cleared, I think to myself as I drag myself out of bed.
Padding over to the bathroom, I quickly shower and brush my teeth. I’ve got no makeup, and I have a spot appearing on my chin. How could fate be so cruel as to drop me on Dylan’s lap with not a scrap of makeup?!
Not that I cared overly, but my teenage self was screaming for concealer as a state of urgency. Pulling the joggers and hoodie on, I snort with laughter at the sight of myself in the mirror. I look like a kid wearing her dad's clothes!
I hum as I stroll down to the kitchen, my stomach rumbling at the smell of toast. There’s no sign of Dylan, but when I fill the kettle, I catch sight of him clearing the drive with a snow shovel, and I find myself gazing at him. He’s perfectly dressed for the icy weather, a red checked thick jacket with a cream fleece covering his broad body, a black beanie hat pulled down over his ears. He puffs out wisps of cloudy air as he continues to clear the drive, and my heart skips a beat when he wipes his brow.
Water runs over my fingers and my hand, alerting me to the fact the kettle is overflowing.
“Shit,” I mumble, tipping some of the water away. “Still gawking at Dylan Charmer all these years later.”
I put the kettle on when the door opens, and Dylan stomps his feet on the mat.
“Morning,” he calls out, his deep voice echoing through the house. “It’s bloody freezing out there.”
He appears in the doorway, tugging his gloves off as he gazes at me, a smile curling on his lips.
“They bury you.” He smirks, nodding at the clothes that I’m wearing.
“Well, they’re warm, and I’m grateful,” I answer, gesturing to the kettle. “Tea?”
His eyes light up as he nods, his eyes still on me. I look away, trying to ignore the way my body reacts to his stare, even now.
“Did you sleep okay?” Dylan asks, reaching down to unlace his boots.
“It took a while to get warm,” I confessed, resting my hands on the counter behind me.
Dylan looks up, his eyes filling with concern.
“Yeah? Maybe I’ve got a hot water bottle somewhere.” He frowns as he glances around us.
“Oh, but the road may be cleared,” I say quickly, half hoping it isn’t. Being holed up with Dylan Charmer isn’t the worst thing in the world.
“I’m afraid not.” Dylan grimaces. “I called Rob this morning. He said with it being Christmas, it’s going to have to be us locals that clear it, and everyone is settled in for Christmas. But if the sun keeps shining, that’ll help us along, won’t it?”
“What about the council?” I wrinkle my nose up as I make the tea.
“Useless. Off for Christmas, would you believe?”
“Mum always used to say monkeys would be better off running the council here,” I say as Dylan laughs.
“Your mum has a fair point.” Dylan nods. “Did you want to call Cassie?”
“Oh, my battery is gone.” I sigh, shrugging my shoulders. “Can I use yours?”
“What phone have you got?” Dylan asks, his fingers brushing with mine as we exchange phones. There’s a zing of electricity as our eyes meet, and we’re both as surprised as each other.
“iPhone,” I whisper as he frowns.
“Yeah, I might have a charger here.”
“You?” I laugh as he rolls his eyes.
