Page 44 of Never Have I Ever

Poppy

Marina’s number sits on the screen, but I can’t bring myself to call her.

There’s so much I want to tell her and so many things I would love her advice on. But since we’re on the verge of losing electricity, I turn it off to save my battery, dedicating the next twenty-four hours or more to being alone with Laird.

It’s not a burden.

The connection with Laird is intense. It hit me sideways when I least expected it, a lot like our beginning the other night. I never would have thought the man who pretty much gave me a hard time about everything would also be the first person I’m attracted to in recent memory. Certainly well before the accident happened.

Sure, he knows how to look sexy cosplaying a lumberjack in the woods, but as comfortable as he is, I’m daydreaming about him on the beaches of San Diego. This place is fun for the weekend, a trip down memory lane, a quick escape if he wants to get out of LA but not have to catch a flight. Some people go to Palm Springs. He comes to Deer Lake.

We don’t know how long we’ll be stuck up here, but I sure hope I get to see that other side of him. The thought of him running around half naked on beaches instead of bundled up in flannel might have something to do with it. Though I can’t imagine him looking bad in anything, and I really want to see that tattoo again.

The lights flicker, causing me to sit up and release a dreaded sigh.

Laird was right about the generator going out. I look around the room and regret not grabbing a flashlight. Fortunately, the sun hasn’t fully set, so light still feeds through the trees. The bedroom is bathed in the perfect shade of golden peach sunlight, so I’m not stuck in the dark yet.

Ticking through my list of to-dos to make sure we’re prepared, I’m glad I researched to verify how to manage the food in the fridge. Keeping the door closed is key. It’s cold enough outside to keep some things fresh if we’re worried. If it can’t be saved, I’ll throw it away. We won’t starve. I bought plenty and whipped up a pasta dish for tonight, something easy to reheat near a fire or on the gas stove since we won’t be able to ignite the oven.

A loud crack startles me, choking my breath. I swear my heart skips a beat or ten. I’ll chalk it up to old wiring in the cabin, though this place is hardly rustic. I get up, not wanting to be alone.

From the few sounds I heard earlier—the creak of a door, heavy footsteps to the kitchen and back—I’m not sure where he is—the bedroom where Laird sleeps or in the living room by the fire. I open the door and peek into the dark hallway. “Laird?”

“In here,” he replies. I find him slipping his boots back on by the front door. “I’m going to check the generator again.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the corner of the kitchen area. “Do you think it’s done for good?”

Mulling the question, he straightens back, plucking his coat from the hook. “It might be out, or it could be a fluke. It’s worth trying to get it started again if I can, but maintaining a cabin isn’t one of my marketable skills.”

I still have no idea what his last name is, much less what he does for a living. He zips his coat and grabs a flashlight from the floor. “Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” I reply, reaching the couch and holding the back of it. “Power outages don’t scare me.”

Testing the flashlight, he asks, “What does?”

“Bears,” I reply with a knowing grin. “Good thing you rescued me.”

“Eh, you didn’t need me.” Grabbing the door, he swings a smirk in my direction. “You had it handled.”

“I can give credit where it’s due. The bed here is a lot more comfortable than the back seat of my car. And warmer. Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

“Hopefully, it stays that way.” Something sparks in his expression. “I got the fire going, and we have plenty of dry wood.” Rubbing the heel of his shoe on a mat, he keeps his eyes trained on the action. But then he looks up. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out by the fire when I return?” He’s quick to add, “If you don’t have other plans, that is.”

How can I resist the sweet suggestion? “As appealing as it is to sit in a dark room with nothing to do but lie there, I’ll be here when you return.”

“Yeah?” The smile I receive has me glad I’m holding the couch. As if I made his entire day, he nods and pulls the door open. “I’ll see you soon, Poppy.”

“See you soon, Laird.”

I’m given one great look at his handsome face and flashed a smile that feels personal and one the whole world should see. “Bye.” As soon as he leaves, I rush on my jelly knees to the bedroom to freshen up.

Glancing into the mirror, I grab my toiletries and my makeup bag from the top of the dresser and move to the windowsill. I must work fast with the last bit of day casting a blueish haze. It's not the most flattering light, but it will do. I had only bothered with the lightest of applications this morning since I didn’t know what I was in for, but now I’m quick to dab a little concealer in the corners of my eyes, swipe on some rose gold eye shadow that I know flatters me in normal circumstances since everything is by memory because of the light I’m quickly losing.

I add a little blush, though I probably didn’t need it since he makes me blush quite a bit. I skip the more involved processes like eyeliner and just add a few coats of mascara before dragging a brush through the mess on my head.

Up or down?

I lift my hair and then let it fall again. Down.

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