It’s over the top. If the outside of her home looks this bright, I can only imagine the inside. How the hell does she run it all at once without costing herself a fortune? I don’t get it one bit.
Running a hand down my face, I try not to think about her inviting me inside to let me see inside her festive world.
Trying to give them time to enjoy the view that haunts me daily, my patience runs thin rather quickly. Unable to reach my driveway, a sigh escapes my lips. Honking my horn once is enough to push them forward.
Parking in front of my home, I take in my cabin. Compared to hers, mine feels lackluster. It’s not jealousy that fills me, but something else. Something that makes this hollowness feel that much more apparent.
Leaving my truck, the cold air seeps straight through me. Sniffing, I slip into my cabin. Needing some warmth, I distract myself long enough to throw together a fire. Once the logs are crackling and I’ve shed my coat and boots, I move to settle.
Taking a seat in the recliner resting only a handful of feet away from the flames, I sink deep into the cushion and stare ahead.
There aren’t any soft tunes playing, or any flashing lights. No tree tucked in the corner with boxes beneath. My home feels colder than usual.
Silence surrounds me. What should be peaceful feels far more unsettling. Wind howls outside, blowing more snow around. The weather gets worse as the sun sets. At this rate, it’ll be dark.
Watching the flame flicker, my brows lower deep.
Will Nova make her way home safely? Without the sun and all of this snow, I’m willing to bet that she’ll have a hard time.
Soaking up the silence, I lose count of how many minutes I sit here waiting for any signs of life outside of my home.
Vehicles slowly pass by, enjoying how the lights reflect on the snow. They stall, but they always leave. It’s only once I hear the sound of a door opening and shutting that I feel my shoulders relax.
If I hold my breath, I’ll hear the crunch of her boots against the snow before they hit her porch, but I don’t need to go that far, do I? Yet I do, simply because I can’t help myself. It’s a problem I haven’t been able to kick.
Instead of hearing the distant thump of steps against her wooden porch, I hear thumps much closer, those onmyporch. Just when I think my ears are playing tricks on me, there’s a knock on my door.
Heart lurching right alongside my body, I’m on my feet in an instant. I don’t think about ignoring it like most people who find their way to my home. Instead, I’m coasting toward the front. My lungs burn, begging me to take a breath.
I can’t, not when I know she’s on the other side of the door. Hell, I can’t remember the last time she entered my space.It’s been too long.
Pulling open the door, I finally inhale. My head spins with relief, while my heart thumps in my chest. While my brain tells me that I shouldn’t be feeling anything for my younger neighbor, the rest of my body does whatever the hell it wants.
“Nova.” Grunting her name, I drink in her appearance. Unlike earlier, I can take in the fine details.
Tilting her head up to meet my gaze, up this close, she’s breathtaking. Despite being blue, her eyes look more gray today. Must be all the snow. She’s hesitant before me.
“They, um, put this in mine.” Trying to explain herself, she untucks her arm and pulls out two envelopes, both marked with my name.
Staring at the offering, I take in her bare fingers. She’s got small hands.
Taking the letters, my mouth curls downward. “They do that a lot.”
She looks nervous, bouncing on one heel to the other. She nods and sucks on her teeth. If she’s like me, she’s probably remembering that I had to leave an envelope at her door the last time. Unfortunately, she wasn’t home for me to share a conversation with her like this.
“I’m sure they’re just swamped with the holidays and all. Mistakes happen.” Chewing on her lip, she shivers as the cold seeps past her jacket.
How long will it take for her to slip inside her home and get a fire going? It would be faster to invite her inside and let her settle in front of my fireplace instead.
Inviting her inside sends alarms through my head, but I’m a bastard for wanting to keep her right here. She’s given me what she needed to. Not having any reason to stick around, she could spin on her heel and return to her own world. But she can’t, not when I’m not ready to wrap up this conversation just yet.
“Are you alright?” The question leaves me with a sigh, and she tilts her head with confusion all over her face. “Yesterday, I mean.”
Nova jerks back before letting out what sounds like an attempt at a laugh. “Oh, right. You saw that?”
We both know I did. I was an ass for not checking up on her sooner. Then again, what right do I have to get near such a bright light?
Leaning against the door frame, my arms cross over my chest. Sighing under my breath, I squint at her house. I want toask her why she goes through the effort. Instead, I clear the fist-sized lump that forms in the back of my throat as her cheeks grow in color.
