I belonged to another man. I was in the home of another man. I was in the bedroom of another man. And yet, there I was, my lips pressed to someone else.
Living in Boston, the weather could be insanity; not to dismiss the traffic, the noise, and the insane amount of pedestrians. Driving a car in Boston-- in December, especially-- was just an accident waiting to happen.
"Will, I'm on the way home, okay? Cut me a break," I sighed. My boyfriend's husky voice entered the speakers around me.
"Just be home soon. The roads are already closing. I've got something to tell you once you get here." I nodded, though he could not see me.
"Okay baby. See you soon."
After ending the call, I tried desperately to focus on the road ahead of me, but the storm outside made the trip seem near impossible. I couldn't see if there were any cars around me, I had no idea what the speed was, and I was already on an unfamiliar back road.
It wasn't long before I realized that I was lost.
Then, to add to my distress, my car jerked forward, sputtered, and died.
"No," I gasped in a panic, my gas pedal rendered useless. My car was still coasting, and I had no option but to turn the wheel until I met the side of the road and came slowly to a stop. "Dammit!"
I reached for my phone, prepared to call Wilmer and have him get me a tow. But the second I pressed call, the screen went black.
"No no! Please," I begged my phone as if it could give me another chance.
Stuck at a literal crossroads, my options for assistance immediately began to dwindle. The roads were closing rapidly, I was losing daylight, and my car could no longer blow heat. I realized then that I was left to either sit in my car and slowly freeze to death, or weather the storm and walk until I found help.
Reluctantly, I exited my precious Lambo, using the manual handle to open the trunk. I collected my largest fur coat, my handbag, and my keys, and started my trek down the blizzard-ridden road.
The walk seemed endless; the snow was up to my knees, my jeans had already been completely soaked through. Finally, about ten minutes into my search for shelter, a small, garage-like building appeared in the distance. I wasn't very far from it and quickly reasoned that it wouldn't take me long to get there. Hastily, I headed straight for the small shop, desperate to escape the biting cold.
When I had finally reached the storefront, my eyes followed a large blue sign above a metal hooded door.
Kevin's Auto Shop
Perfect, I thought, scurrying nearer to the building. Frantically, I banged on the garage door.
"Hello?!" I yelled, hoping desperately that someone was there despite the frigid weather. "Hello!?!" The banging of my fist against the metal made an unforgiving sound; I was sure that anyone within a 50-mile radius could hear its enormity.
"Is anyone in there? Please, I need help!"
Suddenly, the metal door began to lift, and before me slowly appeared a man in a denim jumpsuit. I couldn't quite make out his features, as the blizzard was blurring everything that wasn't two inches in front of me. I yelled out anyway,
"Can you help me? My car died and I had to walk and it's freezing out - ," I paused when the man seemed confused, then sighed, "Please let me in."
"Come in, come in," he rushed, gesturing for me to move quickly. I darted in immediately, feeling an immediate relief from the cold bitter wind outside.
He led me into an area that I could only assume was the lobby; a small area that was consumed in heat, heavily lit by fluorescent lights.
"May I use your phone?"
"Of course," he said, reaching into his pocket and handing it to me. I looked down at the phone, frantically attempting to touch the screen, when I'd realized that my fingers were so cold, the screen couldn't sense them. My eyes began to well up with tears in frustration.
"You must be freezing," the man said appearing again, this time with a large woolen blanket. He came toward the front of me, wrapping it around my shoulders. I looked up at his concerned face, and could, at last, make out his features.
He was a handsome young man, probably in his mid-twenties, like myself. His hair was short and black, matching his thickening, short wisps of a beard. Despite the nasty cold, he had tan skin, and piercing hazel eyes full of worry.
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Right as I'd been staring at him, he looked me in the eye. "I'm sorry that I didn't hear you sooner. Any idea how long you were out there?" I looked down at my blue fingertips and responded.
"Just a few minutes I guess. My car died about half a mile away." Glancing back up at him, I saw his face begin to sadden.
"I can't believe you walked that far in this weather. Are you okay?"
His genuine concern flattered me, and I immediately thought he was very much a respectable gentleman, despite the fact that his hands were stained with motor oil.
"Just cold," I responded. "I'll be fine. I'm just glad someone was here."
"I agree."
The shop was empty, and it was just he and I. I watched him sit down in front of me in the carpeted lobby as if I were his only concern.
"I uh . . . I assume you're Kevin?" I asked, recalling the name of the place. He briefly grinned, and I immediately took notice of his bright white, charming smile. This guy had to know he was handsome, no matter how nice he was.
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