“Oh, Nico. Before you go. I just wanted to give you a heads up that I have nightmares sometimes. Sloane says I can get pretty loud, so I’m sorry if I wake you.”
It raises more questions I want to ask but have no right to.
“Is there anything I can do to help if it happens?”
Este shakes her head. “I’m a shit sleeper, so if you just bang on the wall, it’ll wake me, and I’ll shut up.”
Well, I won’t be doing that.
I say goodnight and head downstairs to sit in front of the fire, wide awake, listening for any sounds of distress coming from Este’s room.
3
ESTE
Iwake with a start to the rumbly whooshing sound of an engine. Except… no, that’s not it. It’s cracklier, deeper. And when I open my eyes, I’m in a dark room. The realization that I’m nowhere near an airplane calms me, but the sound doesn’t stop. If anything, it builds like thunder.
The headboard is against the window, so I sit up and pull back the curtain, but it’s too dark to see anything. And then it stops, and the only thing I can hear is my own breath and the same howling wind I fell asleep to.
I try to settle, but I toss and turn. The fact I managed to fall asleep once in a new place was a miracle. The chances of it happening again now that I’m awake are slim to none.
My phone says it’s two in the morning. At least I managed a few hours.
I turn on the bedside lamp and grab my Kindle, but it’s colder than it was before I got in bed. Nico mentioned there were extra blankets in the closet, but the thought of curling up in front of the fire on the couch with a cup of tea is calling me. If I have to be awake, I might as well be comfortable.
The floor is cold beneath my feet as I slip out of my bed. I move quickly across the room and rummage around my unpacked suitcase for some cozy socks, hopping precariously to put them on, as if it’s somehow faster than sitting down. Once my feet are at less of a risk of frostbite, I grab my favorite baggy pink sweater from the top of my bag, tug it over my head, and tuck Amelia Bearhart and my Kindle in the crook of my arm as I head down the hall.
Nico’s cabin is gorgeous. My dad mentioned he built this place himself, so I’m not surprised how well put together it is. The walls upstairs are lighter than they are downstairs. I don’t know much about wood, but downstairs is rich and warm, and up here is airier. The handrail for the stairs is one long branch, sanded and sealed, but it still has its natural grain and knots. Nico has done an amazing job of bringing the outside in and somehow making it feel like a cozy sanctuary.
My footsteps are soft on the stairs, and I can hear the crackle of the fire and quiet classical music playing as I tiptoe down. Maybe Nico fell asleep down here.
But the second I step into the living room, the floor creaks beneath me. A growl sounds, and when I turn into the living room, I find Nico sitting on the couch with two bear-like dogs. One of them is lying across his feet. The other is alert, teeth bared as he stands between Nico and me.
“Down, Grey,” Nico says, and the dog looks back at him with a whine.
“I’m sorry.” I keep my voice low, trying not to scare them. “I thought you’d be in bed. Something woke me, andI couldn’t get back to sleep, so I figured I’d come down and read. I can go back?—”
“It’s okay. There’s plenty of space. Come meet the boys.”
Both dogs eye me warily as I approach, but Nico strokes them, like he’s telling them it’s okay.
“This is Earl,” he says, nodding to a tan dog with black patches over his face and back. He turns to the other dog, the one who growled at me, and runs his fingers through his shaggy gray coat. “And this is Grey.” Earl and Grey. Of course.
“Hi. I’m Este,” I tell them, offering my hand for Grey to sniff. I don’t have much experience with dogs, but I know they love to sniff.
He extends his neck, and I watch his nose work a mile a minute.
“Sorry about this. They don’t really like anyone except for…” Nico trails off as Grey nuzzles his nose against my hand. As if he were waiting for a sign, Earl trots up beside his brother to greet me, and I kneel so I can scratch their heads. “Me. And apparently you. Huh,” Nico finishes.
I laugh as Grey tickles my face with his ears, and when I look up, Nico is watching us with a concerned expression.
“I like them, too,” I tell him, in case he’s worried I won’t like them being so close or licking my face. Granted, I could do without the licking, but they’re dogs. It’s what they do.
“I’ll make us some tea,” he says, before disappearing somewhere behind us.
With difficulty, I untangle myself from the dogs andmanage to sit down on the couch. I usually use Amelia Bearhart to prop up my Kindle, but Earl immediately knocks her from my lap so that he can placehishead there. I pick her up and sit her on the coffee table, wondering if Earl would mind me using his head as a Kindle stand.
When Nico comes back, two steaming mugs in hand, Grey is snuggled into my side, staring up at me with his tail wagging, and Earl is lying acrossmyfeet.
