She smiles. "Here we are.” She leads me down a short hallway with only two doors that are opposite of each other. Seems pretty private, aside from the door facing mine. It’s on its own wing off from the rest of the rooms. Pulling an old skeleton key from her apron, Margaret hands it over to me. “This is your room. If you need anything, please let me know, and I’ll be happy to help in anyway. I’m hoping the phone and internet come back up soon.”
“Not a problem. Thanks for getting me set up so quickly.”
“Oh, it’s nothing darling. We're happy to have you here at Brickside. Please let me know if you need anything at all.” She smiles once more then slips out of the door.
Silence settles around me, covering me in calmness. I’m cut off from the rest of the world right now, literally. No internet or cable because of the storm. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see that the signal bar is flatlined, meaning I’m truly cut off from the rest of the world by being here.
Not that I ever get anything but the occasional email, and a few calls and texts. After everything blew up a couple of years ago, I quit social media. It was honestly the best thing I ever did, and I have no intention of ever getting it back. The only thing I ever keep up with is the stupid Puck Bunny, since I seem to be a sadist and love punishment, and a few sports sites. The rest, I steer clear from; it’s better that way.
I set my bag down on the dresser and look around. A four-poster king-size bed sits in the middle of the room with a canopy covering the top. There are matching nightstands on each side and the entire room feels cozy and comfortable.
Turns out, maybe coming to the middle of nowhere to run away from your problems isn’t such a bad thing after all.
Four
I’ve been nursing the same room-temperature, half-empty beer for an hour now with my gaze glued to the fire, and my head somewhere deep in the past, whenever she walks into the room.
I feel her presence the moment she steps over the threshold. Her blonde hair that seemed much darker when it was rain-soaked, is now dry and tied loosely at the nape of her neck. Her cheeks are flushed pink, her brow furrowed and a look of concentration is set firmly on her face.
She hasn’t noticed me yet, so I take the moment to drink her in. She’s got her laptop in her hands, muttering quiet curses as she tries to focus on the screen and walk, until she runs directly into the edge of the wooden end table.
“Damnit.” Then another frustrated sigh. A low laugh slips from my lips, causing her gaze to dart to mine.
"Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” She practically squeaks when she realizes she’s not alone. Even in the low light, I can see her cheeks ablaze in the glow of the fire. “Ah, you’re the guy I tackled earlier.” She shuts her computer and scrunches her nose in apology. “I’m still so sorry about that. I have a habit of being a tad bit clumsy.”
“It’s no big deal. It’s not like I haven’t be-” I’m about to tell her that I get in fights on the ice weekly with guys three times her size, but something stops me. There’s a huge chance she doesn’t know who I am. Not the fuck-up of the Avalanche or even a professional hockey player in general. Fuck, when’s the last time I was around someone who wasn’t blinded by dollar signs when I talked or asking me about hockey?
Hell, judging by her first reaction when meeting me, there’s a huge chance she’s not even a hockey fan.
I shrug nonchalantly. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Really.”
“At least let me get you a new beer. My treat.” She nods toward the warm, half-drunk beer in my hand then holds up her hand, “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“If you insist, but seriously, I’m good.”
She sets the computer down on the end table next to me and disappears through the entryway, returning moments later with a bottle of tequila and two Christmas themed shot glasses.
“Uh, so we’re actually out of beer and I didn’t want to come back empty-handed, so I grabbed this.” She holds up the bottle and shrugs.
“Wow, are you trying to get me drunk… and take advantage of me?” I smirk.
“No, oh God no. Definitely not,” she says quickly, obviously becoming flustered at my teasing. “I was just saying, the tequila is all they have and after today, I need a drink. Plus, after our initial meeting, I think you probably deserve this drink as much as I do.”
She sets the bottle and glasses down next to her computer. When she’s this close I can really see her features. Her striking honey eyes, thick lashes, and heart-shaped mouth that I suddenly want to devour.
She’s fucking beautiful. The kind of beautiful that hits you the moment she’s in your atmosphere.
“I’m Maddison, and honestly, I’ve had a pretty rough week, and right now, I just want to drink a few shots of this shitty tequila with a complete stranger who won’t judge the mess I am.”
I gesture to the seat next to me and shrug. “I’m Briggs and… by all means. I’m not a judgmental guy, so it’s all yours.” I wait for any type of realization to cover her face, and when nothing happens, I let out a sigh of relief. She has no clue who I am.
“Thanks.”
When she flops down on the chair, and sighs heavily, I raise my eyebrows. “I was going to ask if you want to talk about it but…”
“No. I don’t. Talking about it is actually the last thing I want to do. Can we just drink and talk about anything but our problems?” She reaches over and twists off the top, pours two shots to the brim of the glasses, then picks one up and hands it to me.
I take the glass from her and raise it up before we toss them back. It burns, not in a good way, more so in the this is probably ten-year-old gas station tequila kind of way, but I swallow it down regardless.
“Okay,” I shake my head to clear the aftertaste, “that is truly shitty tequila. You hit the nail on the head with that one.”
Maddison’s face puckers in distaste, but then a wicked grin spreads on her rosy lips, and she throws her head back and laughs. “Truly.”
Her phone chimes while she’s pouring another shot, but she ignores it. That reminds me that I might actually have a signal if her phone is going off, but truthfully… I’m enjoying the silence. I don’t want to have to check my email, or respond to Conrad’s texts, or read all of the messages coming through asking if I’m okay and if I need anything. For that reason alone, I keep my phone in my pocket and focus my attention back to the woman sitting across from me.
She hands me another shot, and together, we throw them back a second time.
“God, I thought it would get better after a couple, but it doesn’t.” Her shoulders shake with a full-body chill as her face twists in disgust.
“Not at all.” I clear my throat. “In fact, I think it’s getting worse, if that’s possible.”
Nodding, she darts her tongue out to catch a drop of tequila that’s meeting the corner of her lips, and I almost groan out loud.
“Well, it’s all we’ve got, so I’m a ‘make the best of it’ kinda girl.”
“True. The plus side is that after a few, we probably won’t feel it anymore.” I grin when she giggles. “Well… Since we’re going to finish this disgusting tequila together, I feel like we should get to know each other.”