Page 64 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

Ethan switched on all the heaters in the room before turning to me with a serious look on his face. ‘Flora, you need to get those clothes off, stat.’

I was so far from feeling aroused that his words caught me off-guard. My facial expression prompted him to clarify his intentions.

‘To get warmed up! Go in the bathroom and have a hot shower. I’ll find you some of my clothes you can wear while yours dry over the heater. You didn’t think that was my attempt to get you naked?!’

‘Kinda…!’ I aimed for a shy smile but my teeth were chattering so violently that I probably looked more like a glitching Black Mirror robot companion than an attractive love interest. Ethan grabbed a tote bag from a coat hook and handed it to me.

‘Hot shower, now. Put any wet clothes in here and leave them outside the door.’

I did as I was told and peeled off my clothes in the tiny bathroom. Every single item was drenched with a mixture of sweat and melted snow. I placed them in the bag, with the exception of my knickers, which I thought would be a step too far, and opened the door a crack, placing the bag outside it. I put my underwear on the heated towel rail, hoping they’d be mainly dry by the time I’d had my shower.

The hot water felt incredible on my skin, and Ethan had an impressive range of artisanal toiletries, which I slathered all over me, enjoying how the essential oils infused the steam with a luxurious aroma.

As I was towelling myself dry, there was a gentle knock on the door.

‘I’ve got some clothes for you; can I pass them through?’

I opened the door the tiniest possible amount and stuck my fingers through the gap, into which Ethan placed a soft stack of folded clothes, which I quickly withdrew into the steamy room.

‘Thanks!’ I shouted. I prodded my knickers on the towel rail – marginally warm but still soaking. I’d have to go commando for now. I stepped into a pair of pyjama bottoms, which were ever-so-slightly too large. A pair of thick socks, a vintage Nirvana tee and a college sweater completed the ‘look’. I opened the door to release the steam, continuing to towel dry my hair as I stepped into the now-warm living space, where I found Ethan in the kitchen area preparing… sandwiches?

‘Are you sending me out into the storm with a picnic?’ I probed, angling my head towards his culinary creation.

‘Ha, no. I always have a PB & J after a night out, so thought I’d make you one, too.’

‘Ooh, yes please – I’ve always meant to try this combo.’

‘Wait – what? You’ve never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?’

‘Nope,’ I replied, taking a bite of one. ‘Pretty nice.’

‘I can’t believe you’ve lived thirty years without eating one of these.’

‘Well, the fates finally conspired to make it happen.’

‘They did. You’re all warmed up?’

‘Yep, thanks. You should go and do the same.’

‘I will, but I wanted to check in with you first.’

‘About how I get back to Manhattan?’

‘Yeah, about that…’

‘Oh God, what is it?’

‘I checked transport while you were in the shower. The subway’s closed, as you know, and they’ve shut the bridges, too. Which pretty much rules out a cab. And anyway, I’m not sure driving anywhere in this weather is a smart idea.’

‘Okay, so…’

‘I think it would be safest if you camped out here for the night.’

‘Oh. I see.’

A wave of self-consciousness washed over me. Choosing to be here with Ethan was one thing, but having no autonomy in the matter was a different beast entirely.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Ethan said, leaning against the only kitchen counter.