“Oh.” His voice cracks on the single syllable.
“Mhm.”
Fletcher opens the creaking door, taking my hand againand leading me into the warmth of the cabin. The smile I give him is immediate.
You can tell this place is decorated as a summer house, with wood-paneled walls and log furniture and decor. At the same time, it’s perfect for tonight. Small, with an open plan, displaying the kitchen and living room, and a hall to the right where the bedrooms must be. Grace also must have taken the time to decorate for the holiday season for us. A small artificial tree sits in the corner with silver bulbs, just waiting to be plugged in. White string lights are hung from the mantle and the low ceiling. I can’t wait to see it lit up tonight.
“I guess Calvin and Grace’s parents have had this place since they were kids. Calvin offered to upgrade or update it for them when he was signed, but they all decided to keep this one for its nostalgia.”
“I don’t blame them.” It’s like the memories are practically seeping out of the walls. I can’t begin to imagine all the fun they’ve had here.
Fletcher releases my hand to grab some wood by the fireplace. He starts arranging it, grabbing some paper and the lighter from the stand next to it. I sit on the deep green couch, letting my body sink into the plush cushion.
My hips and lower back have ached more as this pregnancy goes on, and my doctor says it’s normal but mentioned I could see a chiropractor or something if I need it. I don’t think I’m there yet. This pregnancy so far has been a dream; I didn’t even have much morning sickness. The only thing that’s been getting me is the exhaustion and pregnancy brain.
Fletcher gets the fire started a minute later, and the heat immediatelyseeps into my bones.
“That feels great,” I comment as he stands from the floor.
“I’ll go grab our bags, okay?”
He heads outside while I stand from the couch, taking a more thorough look around. There are sliding glass doors on the front wall, with a small deck that has stairs down to the beach. On the lake, there are multiple ice houses, and even a few people out and about.
I bet it’s a gorgeous view in the summer. I glance around, taking in photos of Grace and Calvin on the walls, as toddlers and throughout high school, with cheesy grins on their faces. Adam and Zoey are in a bunch of them, too. It’s so sweet how close the four of them are.
I head down the hall to the bedrooms. There are four of them, one that’s obviously Grace’s, with posters of boy bands and other artists on the walls. Calvin’s is also pretty obvious. He has a bunch of hockey posters on the walls. There’s a room that must be their parents’, and one guest room.
When I enter the guest room, my heart pounds.
Fletcher and I have never shared a bed. Anticipation blooms as I realize what this means. I don’t want to sleep away from him tonight. Sure, there are plenty of beds but only one guest room. And I’m not about to share a bed with him in Grace’s old room with pictures of One Direction staring me down all night.
No way.
I hear Fletcher before I see him. His footsteps carry him down the hall until he finds me staring at the bed in the guest room.
“Hey,” he says, setting our bags on the floor. “Are you?—”
“Yes.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” He chuckles, taking both of my hands in his cold ones.
“What were you going to say?” I squeeze his hands.
“Are you comfortable sharing a bed?” Fletcher glances toward the bed, his eyes narrowing at the plaid quilt. This night could either be awkward or amazing, but my bet is on amazing.
“Yes. I would rather stay in here than in Grace’s One Direction shrine, or Cal’s pre-teen hockey room.”
“Fair.” Fletcher smirks.
There’s almost an expectation now that we’re here, and what may occur between those sheets starts to sink in.
“Though it may be fun to defile Calvin’s room and tease him about it,” I say, hoping to break some of the tension.
It works, Fletcher chokes on a laugh, his face turning red.
“Hespecificallyasked me not to defile anything,” he says.
“All the more reason to defile it.” I put one of my hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt and giving me any excuse to touch him. His heart thrums rapidly under my palm, mirroring my own. “Relax.”
