"Well, fuck."
Trying the door again, I put my shoulder into it this time, but it doesn't budge even a fraction. The space suddenly feels smaller, more intimate, with both of us crammed into my storage room. I'm acutely aware of how close she is, how her perfume smells like vanilla and something earthy I can't identify.
"Do you have your phone?" I ask, trying to focus on practical solutions instead of how her auburn hair catches the overhead light.
She pats her pockets and shakes her head. "Left it on your dining room table."
"Mine's in the kitchen," I say, running a hand through my hair. "Well, this is just perfect."
The irony isn't lost on me that after months of avoiding my neighbor, we're now literally trapped together in a closet. Serena leans against the shelving unit, crossing her arms, and I notice how the movement makes her sweater stretch across her curves.
"How long do you think before someone notices we're missing? I personally didn't tell anyone I was here this evening."
"Considering no one knows you're here and I don't have any plans tonight..." I trail off, realizing how that sounds.
"So we're stuck here indefinitely."
"Pretty much." I test the door handle one more time, jiggling it uselessly. "Unless you have some witchy magic that can un-stick doors."
Serena snorts. "I'm an herbalist, not a locksmith. My magic doesn't work that way."
For the first time, I find myself wanting to know all about Serena Tuttle and the magic she practices.
6
Serena
I am trappedin a closet with my smoking-hot jerk-of-a-cowboy neighbor, and I kind of like it.
When we realize we both left our cell phones in the kitchen, Colt grabs a couple of old blankets shoved in a corner for us to sit on.
"Well, Benjamin will be here first thing in the morning at 6 AM. So we're stuck, but at least it's not until who-knows-when," he says, attempting to be positive, which I appreciate.
My neighbor then pokes around the shelves until he turns, smiling at me, his bright blue eyes landing on a deck of cards.
"Shall we?"
Oblivious to how late it gets, we pass the time playing a variety of card games. The irritated awkwardness we have experienced since I moved here last year has lessened substantially, and the yummy cowboy even makes me laugh at his silly competitive streak.
"You can actually be charming when you want to," I say.
Under the dim closet light, I watch his cheeks redden as he gives me a crooked smile.
"I'll take that as a compliment," he says with a chuckle.
A bolt of desire shoots through me.
Watching my neighbor shuffle the deck of cards, I giggle internally. Nova is going to lose it when she finds out I was trapped with my hot cowboy neighbor.
Later in the night, we are both exhausted and punchy, but neither of us is ready to attempt sleeping on the storage room floor. Colt breaks out into a song, but sings it in such a goofy way that it takes me several seconds to realize what he's singing. An old TV theme song.
"I saw them in concert," I say.
He stops, his jaw dropping open. "Me too, for the twentieth anniversary!"
"My uncle took me. One of my favorite memories as a kid."
"You were a kid? Damn, I feel old now," Colt says with a small laugh.
