She stomps her feet and bolts into the building. She takes the stairs and doesn’t look back.
“Thanks for the stimulating conversation,” I shout after her. It is kind of obvious I’d be living close to her. I’m her bodyguard, what did she expect?
I eat my food while watching the twenty-four-hour news channel. Next door, the music blares, and it sounds like objects are being flung against the walls. If I listen close enough, I can almost hear her cursing. Just another day in the life of Braxton Hayes.
By the time I’m on my fourth beer I’ve decided that chicken chow mien is overrated. Settled on the couch in the living room, I want to reach for the bottle of whiskey so bad, but I think better of it. My eyes feel heavy. I yawn, the drive here and the alcohol are a heady combination.
“Braxton, did you just snowball me?” Her mouth hangs open, her hair a flaming red halo around her. She dusts off her jeans, and bending enough to make me smirk, she gathers up a snowball of her own. When she stands, I haul a second one at her. She spins, just missing it, then her snowball comes whistling through the air, landing on my face. I tackle her to the ground in seconds, my arms breaking her fall against the snow. She giggles and pushes against me, eyes as green as a forest staring back at me. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Looking forward to it,” I grin, mybreath coming out in puffs filling the air between us.
“This mountain air suits you,” she murmurs, raising her head slightly and kissing my nose.
“Does it now?” I tickle her sides. Her big green eyes scrunching when she laughs.
“I love you, Brax.” She tells me.
I still her words by pressing my mouth to hers. The wind sends chills through my parka, but every other part of me fills with warmth. “I love you, too,” I say as I pour everything I am into that kiss.
I’m startled awake by the sound of glass crashing. I bolt upright, my hands on my holster until I realize that I am the cause of the clatter. I fell asleep holding a beer bottle. I run my hands through my hair and stand to stretch. Drinking was a dumb move.
I walk to the bedroom and stare at the monitor. For a brief second, I wonder if it’s wrong to spy on her, but since she refuses to let me into her life willingly, I have to improvise.
I look at the figure slayed across the bed. She’s sound asleep. I move to the cameras in her living room, kitchen and balcony. All clear. The only place she has privacy is the bathroom. I disconnect the bedroom monitor realizing that she needs privacy there too. I cloned both her cell phone and laptop. Whether she likes it or not, I am a new feature in her life.
I yawn and decide to make some coffee. According to her alarm, she won’t be awake for another hour.
Walking out onto the small balcony, I look out at the quiet streets. It’s not light out yet, a chill coats my skin, taking me back to my dream. I hadn’t thought about her in a while. Memories are the cruelest reminders of what we’ve lost, or how we’ve fucked up in the past, and I could do without both of those.
