𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

27

Elena

As the night went on, the fire crackled and the guys, including Landon, seemed to be having a great time. I watched them from the side, sipping my drink, not really getting why Landon seemed so at ease now. I still couldn't bring myself to talk to him.

It got colder, the sky growing darker, so we decided to head inside. The warm cabin was a relief, but as we shuffled in, reality hit. We'd planned everything out perfectly—down to where everyone would sleep—but with the guys here, things had to change. I could feel the tension building again, but no one said anything. We just started moving stuff around, figuring it out on the spot.

The original plan was totally out the window. We stood there, awkwardly looking around, trying to figure out where everyone would sleep. There were three bedrooms—Emily and I were supposed to share one, Chloe and Anaya the other. But now with Emmet here, Chloe immediately wanted to share with him, which, yeah, I understood. But it stirred things up even more.

Emily raised an eyebrow at me, clearly not loving the new arrangement either. Noah, noticing the growing tension, casually suggested he could just crash on the couch, but that didn't really help solve anything. Landon stood there, arms crossed, not offering any input like he always did—just watching us scramble.

"Fine, I'll take the couch," I blurted out, trying to move things along and avoid any more awkwardness. But as soon as I said it, Noah quickly shot me a look, shaking his head.

"No way, you're not sleeping on a couch. You can share with Emily and Anaya, right? I'll be fine here."

I could feel my face heat up, more embarrassed than anything, but at least it was settled. It wasn't the smoothest situation, but we made it work. We split up, heading to our rooms—or couches.

The strategy was settled, though it wasn't ideal. Noah would take the couch, Emmet and Chloe would share one room, and I'd squeeze into a bed with Anaya and Emily. It was a tight fit, but we'd manage. The smallest guest room, with just a single bed, would go to Landon. At least he'd have his space.

As we all shuffled around, trying to get comfortable, I couldn't help but glance toward the guest room door. Landon being here still felt strange, like an unsettling addition to what was supposed to be a fun getaway. It wasn't like he was causing any drama—he was being his usual cold, distant self—but his presence had a way of throwing off the whole vibe.

Emily nudged me as we crawled into the bed. "This is going to be a long weekend," she whispered, half-joking but clearly aware of the tension too.

"Tell me about it," I muttered, pulling the blanket over my head. I just hoped that somehow, things wouldn't get even more awkward from here.

I lay there, squished between Emily and Anaya, trying to make sense of how I went from planning a cozy girls' weekend to this... weird slumber party gone wrong. I mean, I hadn't expected Landon to waltz into this whole thing, but here we were. And of course, he ends up with the only single bed in the house. Because life is fair like that.

Emily was already half asleep, her arm flung over my stomach like I was her personal pillow, while Anaya was scrolling through her phone, totally unbothered. Meanwhile, I was busy staring at the ceiling, overthinking every little thing as usual.

I sighed, trying to shift without waking Emily, but it was like moving a small boulder. I was trapped. Typical. Of course I'd end up in a bed sandwich while others have a whole bed to themselves.

In the middle of all my spiraling thoughts, Anaya leaned over and whispered, "You okay?"

I let out a soft, sarcastic laugh. "Oh, totally. I'm just reconsidering every life decision that led me to this moment."

She smirked. "I mean, it could be worse. At least you're not on the couch or in Landon's room."

"Right," I muttered. "Lucky him. He gets the peace and quiet. Meanwhile, I'm over here having an existential crisis."

Anaya snorted. "Sounds about right." She finally put her phone down, and within minutes, she was out like a light too. Great. Now I was the only one left to deal with my overactive brain.

After what felt like five minutes of sleep, I was rudely awakened by an elbow jabbing me right in the face. Thanks, Emily. That's it—I'd had enough of being a human body pillow. I shoved her arm off me as gently as I could manage and rolled out of bed, trying not to wake the others.

What the hell do I do now? It's not like I want to crawl back into that crowded mess. I wandered out of the room, my feet shuffling quietly across the floor, and headed for the kitchen. The cabin was dead silent except for the occasional creak of old wood. Everyone else was probably out cold, blissfully unaware of my current predicament.

When I reached the kitchen, I flicked on the light and squinted at the sudden brightness. My eyes adjusted as I scanned the counters for... something. I didn't know what I was looking for. A snack? A distraction? Maybe both. I opened a random cupboard and stared blankly at the contents—cereal, crackers, some weird canned soup that looked like it hadn't been touched in years. None of it was really calling to me.

Sighing, I closed the cupboard and leaned against the counter, folding my arms. Why did I always end up in these awkward situations? Sharing a bed with two people wasn't exactly in the original weekend plan. And now, I was wide awake in the middle of the night, hiding in the kitchen like a weirdo.

I glanced over at the fridge. Maybe some water would help. Or maybe I'd just keep wandering around the cabin like a ghost until the sun came up. Perfect plan.

I sighed and wandered to the fridge, opening it slowly, the light spilling out like some sort of holy beacon in the dark. It hummed softly, the cold air from inside mingling with the already freezing temperature around me. I stared blankly at the contents—milk, eggs, some leftover pizza. Nothing inspiring, nothing that would magically make this night any less shit.

I should just grab a glass of water and call it a night. Or... maybe I'd just stand here and pretend I wasn't freezing, hoping that at some point, I'd figure out what the hell I was doing.

I stood there, shivering a little as the chill of the night settled in. The cabin had gotten colder, and I was definitely not dressed for this. My pajama shorts—too small three years ago and absolutely ridiculous now—barely covered anything. And of course, I had paired them with a tank top that might as well have been a t-shirt for a doll. But the cherry on top? My bunny slippers. Yes, actual bunny slippers, complete with floppy ears. So there I was, standing in the middle of the kitchen, freezing, dressed like a five-year-old on a sugar high.

I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself for warmth. "Brilliant plan, Elena," I muttered under my breath, glancing around the dark, quiet cabin. "Definitely didn't think this through."

And with everyone else sound asleep in their warm beds while I stood here feeling like an extra in a low-budget horror movie.

I shifted my weight, wondering if I should go back to bed, maybe just tough it out with Emily's elbow in my face. But then, the thought of waking them up, squishing between the girls, and having to maneuver around a tangle of limbs just sounded exhausting. Nope. I was committed to my late-night kitchen exile.

Suddenly, a light flickered on from the hallway. My heart skipped a beat, and I froze in place, gripping the fridge door. The living room was still pitch dark, so it clearly wasn't Noah. Maybe someone was just going to the bathroom? I stood there, hoping—praying—that whoever it was would just go back to bed and leave me and my bunny-slippers alone.

But of course, out of the dark, emerged Landon.

Because, of course, it had to be him.