I wasn’t entirely certain about watching movies all day. After all, it seemed like such a waste, but there wasn’t much else to do. And if I was at home, I’d probably just clean the house and look in the fridge about a hundred times.
“Oh, and I put on chili for dinner.”
“You put on?—”
“Shh!” Her eyes were wide and full of excitement as the show started.
I had to admit, the popcorn wasn’t all that bad, and watching the movie wasn’t terrible either. I hadn’t seen it in years, and while there were some parts that I found boring, I wasn’t exactly ready to get off the couch and wander back to my house in the cold.
At some point, I found my way under the gigantic blanket she had strewn about. My feet were warm and my legs were a little toasty, but it was comfortable.
My eyes kept drifting from Samwise and Frodo to Josie. She was so wrapped up in the movie that she didn’t even noticewhen her popcorn bowl was empty. Her fingers just kept shifting around the bottom, searching for another piece.
When I switched bowls with her, she didn’t even notice.
A small grin tugged at my lips that I instantly squashed. This was weird. I was sitting at my neighbor’s house, buried under blankets and watching movies. There was nothing normal about this.
There was a dog on the floor. Snoring. A dog was snoring and I was just sitting here, watching a movie. What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t some domesticated man who sat around on snow days and ate herbal popcorn and chili.
Although chili was one of my favorite meals, but that was beside the point.
What the hell had I gotten myself into? It was this woman. She was all cheery and peppy and…cheery. I didn’t do cheery, and I definitely didn’t do peppy. I didn’t want to hear about her herb-infused olive oil or how it was made. I didn’t care about whether or not she sold it in her shop, and I definitely did not sit under blankets all day.
I tossed the blanket off and stalked to the big window, staring out at the winter storm. It wasn’t that bad. I could walk home. After all, it was just a hundred feet. That was nothing.
Though the snow was drifting pretty high in spots.
But I was a man. I could handle a little snow in my boots and frigid air licking my skin until I got in my house.
Of course, then I’d have to deal with the dog chasing me home. And if I didn’t let him in the house, Josie would go outside and try to convince him to go to her place, which was how I ended up in this situation in the first place. Then she’d miss out on her movie day, she’d be cold, and it would be all because I chose to leave.
Fuck, I really hated my life.
Spinning around, I pinned a glare on Josie, but she just smiled. “Everything okay?”
“What?” I snapped.
“You seem a little worked up.”
“Well…yeah. It’s snowing.”
“I can see that,” she answered calmly.
“And the dog is inside.”
“I remember. We brought him inside together.”
“And you’re out of popcorn,” I said, grasping at straws.
“I can always make more.”
“Do you have an answer for everything?”
She pretended to think about it for all of five seconds. “Pretty much. I find my life is much easier if I don’t panic about the little things.”
“Little things? There’s like five feet of snow out there!” I said, thrusting my hand toward the window.
“Well, five feet might be a bit of an exaggeration. I’d say more like a foot—if we’re lucky. It’s the drifting. It makes it look like there’s more than there is.”
