Page 2 of Valentine's Day With The Mountain Man

The road unfurls beneath me, guiding me downwards with each leisurely twist and turn. I feel each muscle in my body uncoil in tandem with the road’s descent, a physical echo of the mental release I am experiencing. I've left behind a classroom dotted with colorful posters and desks heavy with the promise of growth—a room that has been my world for what feels like an eternity.

"Finally," I whisper to myself, exhaling deeply as the last curve brings Cedar Lodge into view. It stands nestled among the snow-dusted pines. With my heart fluttering a mix of exhaustion and sweet anticipation, I step out of my car, feeling the weight of lesson plans and graded papers lift off my shoulders. Valentine’s Day—a holiday typically reserved for lovers—this year, it's just for me, a testament to self-love and the solace of solitude.

The lobby of Cedar Lodge greets me with its rustic charm, the golden glow of the fireplace casts dancing shadows across the wooden panels. I barely have time to absorb the cozy atmosphere when Iris Mitchell approaches me.

"Welcome, Mia!" she exclaims. Her smile is the first genuine connection I've felt all day.

"Thanks, Iris. This place is just what I needed this weekend," I reply, returning her smile with one of my own.

"There's been a little hiccup with your reservation." Her tone is light, but it hooks my stomach with unease. "Technology," she chuckles lightly, as if sharing a private joke with the universe. "It has a mind of its own sometimes. But don't you worry, I already found a resolution. Follow me," Iris says, beckoning with a gracious hand.

My feet move, but my mind still races with possibilities—none of them particularly reassuring.

As we walk, I let the warmth from the hearth seep into my bones, allowing Iris' unwavering confidence to ease the tightness gathering in my chest. She's been the heart of this lodge for as long as anyone can remember. "Everything happens for a reason, Mia," Iris muses. "Sometimes, the universe conspires to give us exactly what we need."

I don't know about that, considering I'm not even sure what the issue with my reservation is, but I follow her nonetheless.

A hallway stretches before us, its walls a tapestry of moments frozen in time. Pictures of faraway places and smiling strangers whisper tales of adventure and serendipity. Iris pauses at a door that looks just like any other, but when she pushes it open, I'm met with a space that breathes the promise of tranquility.

"This is your room," she declares, her hand sweeping towards the bed that dominates the chamber—a king-size promise of rest.

"Thank you, Iris." My voice is a mix of gratitude and weariness as I step in. But then, my gaze lands on him.

"And this is Liam," Iris continues. "Liam, this is Mia. It looks as if the two of you double-booked the same room. He's agreed to share the room, since we have no others available. You know how busy the mountain gets during the Valentine's Day festival," she shrugs. Her words hang in the air, a delicate balance between proposition and predicament.

"Hi," Liam greets me with a smile.

My mind races, trying to make sense of what I've walked into. "Hello, Liam." Politeness weaves through my trepidation.

Iris, sensing my discomfort, chimes in with maternal reassurance. "The couch is very cozy if either of you would prefer not to share a bed."

"Of course," I murmur, clinging to the practicality of her suggestion like a lifeline. She retreats with a wave, letting us know we can call down to the front desk if we need any service.

The room feels suddenly smaller, the presence of this stranger-turned-roommate filling the space with a new kind of energy. I can't help but feel the irony; I came here for solitude, and fate hands me company.

"Uh, I don't mind taking the couch," Liam ventures, his voice a gentle rumble, like distant thunder rolling over the valley. "Really, it’s fine."

"Are you sure?" My question is genuine, tinged with an awareness of the silent rules of courtesy.

"Absolutely." He nods. "Nature doesn't usually spoil me with king-sized beds anyway."

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. "You're used to roughing it then?"

"Something like that." His grin is infectious, and I find myself responding in kind despite the oddity of our situation.

But something inside of me says to offer to share the bed. "You know, we could probably sleep together." My cheeks flush bright red when I realize what I've said. "I mean, in the bed. It's big enough that we'd probably be fine."

Liam chuckles before opening his bag to unpack. "If that's alright with you, that's alright with me."

I don't know why I offered to share a bed with a stranger, but he has a handsome face and kind eyes. Nothing bad can come of this, right?

3

LIAM

The room is awash with the fading light of dusk, shadows stretching across the wooden floor as Mia and I unpack in silence. The delicate sound of fabric brushing against wood accompanies each movement. I fold my shirts–a palette of earth tones–and slide them into the drawer next to my side of the bed. My gaze drifts toward Mia. Her movements are methodical, every item placed just so.

"So, what do you do?" I ask, already aware but craving the sound of her voice. Or any voice, really.

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