Page 45 of When The Mountains Held Us

Making my way into the bathroom, I set the items on the sink, then venture out into the hall, after realizing I don’t have a towel.

“Levi?” I call down the stairs to him, and a second later he pokes his head around the corner, gazing up at me questioningly. “Bath towels?”

“There’s a closet in the hall that has towels and washcloths in it. Help yourself.”

He disappears again, presumably to stir the pasta, and I find the closet easily, grabbing what I need and shouting a quick, “Thank you” down the stairs to him.

It’s only once I’m inside the bathroom, and the bulb casts a yellow light around the room, that I realize why Levi was so adamant about it being okay if I want to paint it. I nearly laugh out loud at the sight. The bathroom looks like something straight out of a cheesy eighties movie.

The walls are salmon pink, complete with matching frilly curtains that look like they belong in my grandmother’s house. Scratch that. Not even my great-grandmother would have hung these in her home. I stifle a laugh and turn to the matching shower curtain, pulling it back and starting the water.

The hot water takes a little while to get going, but once it does, I melt under its comforting onslaught. The water soothes my aching muscles as I roll my neck. I never realized how many muscles are used while hiking. Muscles I didn’t even know I have hurt, and I know that, despite how it feels right now, it’s going to be so much worse tomorrow. My inner thighs ache already, and it’s all I can do to keep my legs from shaking as I stand under the spray. Being on my feet all night tomorrow should be fun. Insert eyeroll here.

An angry howl sounds from my stomach, and I take that as my cue to finish up, despite how badly I want to stand under the hot water for a little while longer. I quickly shampoo and condition my hair, scrubbing my scalp in a way that has my eyes rolling back in my head at how good it feels. I give a thorough scrub to my body before rinsing and turning the water off.

I grab the towel off the hook next to the shower and clamber out of the tub onto the pink shag bath mat, wrapping the towel around my shoulders before the goosebumps spread any further.

When I slide the sweats up my legs, I let out a sigh at the feel of the soft fabric over my skin and the familiar comfort it brings. I pull on the shirt, and it’s then that I pause in realization.

My clothes are warm. Much warmer than they would be from just sitting on the counter while I took my shower.

Almost as if they’d been put in the dryer for a few minutes.

The thought of him coming into the bathroom, with nothing but a flimsy shower curtain to separate him from my naked body, doesn’t bother me. Should I examine that further? Probably best not to…

My fingers skim roughly through my wet hair as I try and untangle what I can of it. I deem it good enough and pad back across the hallway to my room, closing the door softly behind me.

My dirty clothes land in a heap in the corner before I take a seat on the edge of the bed. The shift of the mattress giving way has me stifling a yawn as I remember I get to sleep on a literal cloud tonight. My stomach rumbles again, and I sigh, sad to be leaving the comfort of this room but knowing I need to eat before I can officially call it quits for the night.

When I round the corner into the kitchen, a bowl of steaming pasta and a spoon are waiting on the counter, along with a plate of sliced Italian bread. Levi gives me a small smile as he turns from the stove, a matching bowl in his hand. Together, we sit across from each other at the kitchen island. He gently pushes a shaker container of parmesan cheese towards me.

“Ladies first.”

Grateful, I sprinkle the cheese onto my pasta, earning a surprised chortle from the man across from me when I accidentally dump out an obscene amount. Okay, it’s not an accident, and you know what? I’m not sorry. I pass what’s left of the cheese back across the counter, and he takes it in silence, a smirk still playing on his lips as I dig into the meal before me.

It’s not much, nothing too impressive or fancy, but after the long day of hiking and swimming, and the high emotions and mental exhaustion of the rest of the night, it’s perfect and exactly what I need. There’s something intrinsically comforting about a big bowl of pasta, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from inhaling it.

We eat in comfortable silence, save for the scraping of our spoons and Bandit’s occasional whimper. I look down to where the dog has plopped himself at my feet and resist the urge to give in to the begging pup and put the bowl down on the ground for him. He’s turning the cute puppy dog eyes up to the max right now, clearly thinking he can get away with it with the new person in the house.

He’s right. He can.

“He’ll just keep on begging if you give in to him now.” Levi speaks from across the counter, an air of amusement in his tone that lets me know he probably wouldn’t care if I did, in fact, relinquish my bowl to the adorable dog at my feet.

“But look at him; he’s so hungry.”

Bandit lets out another little whimper and taps his two front feet back and forth as he waits for my offering.

“Oh sure,” he says, his words dripping with amused sarcasm. “He’s starved.” He eyes the corner of the kitchen where Bandit’s water and food bowls sit, the latter full to the brim with dog kibble. I make a disgusted face.

“To be fair, if my food looked like that, I’m not sure I would want to eat it either.” A short laugh sounds as I finally relent, tearing off a piece of my Italian bread and holding it out in offering to the dog. He takes it gently, and I give him a pat on the top of the head, which earns me a lick of appreciation to my palm.

Pushing back my stool, I hop down and bring my bowl to the sink, running some water into it before grabbing the sponge and squirting out a dollop of dish soap. The shower left me feeling more relaxed than I expected to after a night like tonight, and I’m thankful for it.

Fabric shuffles behind me as Levi stands from his seat before his warm presence is at my back. He’s close. So close. I pause my scrubbing, waiting with bated breath to see what his next move will be.

Another step. Another inch closer, until he’s closing in on me.

It’s funny. With all the shit Travis put me through, you would think Levi’s close proximity would have me frantically searching the kitchen for the nearest escape route. Instead, I’m tempted to lean back into his chest and let the warmth emanating off of him soak through my skin and into my bones. What is it about this man that has me wanting to throw caution to the wind and take a chance on something I swore I would never seek out again?