Page 37 of Two Weeks in Tahoe

I tear open the wrapping and reveal the contents. There’s a basket inside that’s filled with various items. I rifle through the contents, grinning. There are some coffee pods, travel-sized shampoos, lotions, an old paperback romance novel, and a candle.

I can feel his excitement beside me as he watches me discover each item, but I’m at a loss for words.

“It’s just a little care package for you, to celebrate your first experience being snowed in.”

“I…”

“Obviously, I had limited means to work with. These are just some random items I found around the house. I had to dig deep for some of them. I’m sure it’s been a tough couple of days for you with your heater going out then being snowed in, so I wanted to do something…” Liam says.

I laugh because it hasn’t been hard at all. Not in the slightest. I would gladly get snowed in with this man all over again.

“This was so thoughtful of you to do…” I trail off, still fidgeting with the contents of the basket. “But you really didn’t have to do any of this, it hasn’t been so bad...” I blush, glancing over at his powerful thighs next to me, remembering hownot badit’s been.

Then suddenly, the guilt creeps in again. A reminder creeps up inside of me that I am a temporary presence in their lives, and in a week, I’ll go back to reality. Will I be leaving him in my past again? The thought is making my already empty stomach feel queasy.

“If anything, I feel bad I’ve imposed on you,” I continue.

“Hey. Stop feeling bad. I’d want you here whether we were snowed in or not. These last few days have been the best time.” My hair is draped over my face as I look down at the basket once more, and his fingers brush my skin as he reaches to tuck some behind my ear. The warmth of his touch lingers there.

I pull my lips back just a little, trying to push down that nagging feeling. Today, I will try let keep my guard down and simply be in the moment. The rest is a problem for another day.

25

Liam

This has been one of the best weeks I’ve had in a long time. After we lost Lace and Nick, the holidays always brought on an especially somber mood. But this year, I’m spending it with a fucking gorgeous woman who I am getting far too attached to. I’m addicted to her sexy laugh, the way her smile lights up the room, that long, dark, wild hair of hers, her strong, incredible body, and her ridiculous sense of humor. I can’t stop. I’m starting to get this horrible feeling that she may break my heart by the end of this though. I wonder if it’s a bad idea to let Jackson get attached, but it might be a little too late now. I’m already catching feelings, and I want to spend as much time with her as I can before she leaves, learn as much as I can about her. Maybe I can even convince her to come back. I’ve put Jackson’s needs before any of my own these last few years—and I have no regrets about that—but there’s something I finally want for myself now.

Layla and I are stretched out on my couch watching a romance movie,which was her choice, not mine. I don’t hate it. Just before the movie, we devoured the breakfast feast I made, and I swear I’ve never eaten so many sweets in my life in the span of just a few days. I love baking and cooking, but it’s usually only on special occasions that I bake desserts. I guess this is one of those times, though. I made cinnamon rolls this morning, and they were damn good. Almost as delicious as this girl.

Layla’s phone rings as the couple on the screen is having a big fight, and she looks at me, eyes questioning, like she’s asking if I mind that she answers it. I pause the movie and nod my head in encouragement. She sits up, adjusting herself and pulling a little bit farther away from me.

“Hey,” she says, answering the video call. I peek over and see a brunette girl on the screen.

“Biiitch,” her friend screeches back at her. I wince.

“Oh my gosh, how drunk are you right now?” Layla questions, laughing.

“Not.”

“Oh, okay. Right. Is that your mom’s living room in the background?” Layla chuckles.

“Yes. Now where’s Mr. Teenage Dream?” her friend asks.

Layla flushes and looks at me, shrugging her shoulders in apology. I laugh.

“He’s right here, Daniela. So put a little filter on, will you?” she chastises her friend with a laugh. She points the camera at me, and I wave.

“Hi, Daniela,” I say awkwardly, but laughing along with them.

“Oh my gosh, stop. He sure grew up, didn’t he? I guess he’s not Mr. Teenage Dream anymore.”

Layla palms her forehead.

“What?” Daniela asks.

“He can hear you, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, did she tell you about the time we went to visit there and walked along the shore where you first met every day, hoping we’d run into you? I tried to make her go knock on your door, but she was a chicken. I tried, Liam. I really did.” Daniela shrugs.

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