Every December [Soon to be Self Published]

Chapter 4

Lydia

The time on my phone is nearly five. The room comes into view, all shadows and sparse furniture. Confused for a few breaths but quickly remembering how I got here and Hudson--no, A.J. Dang, how did I misunderstand his name? I curl my body to the side, sagging my shoulders into the firm mattress, and promising myself to get out of this warm bed.

I close my eyes and see the image of A.J.'s tattoo just above the line of his boxer brief. The number 9 is inked on his smooth skin. I left that part out, that I had seen, when he had been asking me how he wound up shirtless. And pantless. I wonder about the tattoo's significance. As far as strangers to be stuck with, I could have done worse. A.J's light brown eyes remind me of warm gingerbread with a touch of gold in the light. A smile full of secrets. A mouth tipped up at the corners but holding back. A few tense moments while we figured out the mix-up, but it's understandable.

I only hope the snowplow has come because laying in my bed thinking about him isn't the kind of distraction I need. Between taking care of A.J. and sleeping, I haven't even poked at the beast of a subject weighing down my heart-Garrett. There's too much raw pain to sketch even lightly around. Once I'm alone, I can cry privately. I sit up, now ready and eager to be alone and get to Ashley's.

A quick tie of my hair in a topknot and I go to the kitchen. My backpack and purse are on one of the bar stools. "Hello?" I call out.

Footsteps followed by, "Finally awake?" A.J. says, entering the kitchen, causing my heart to do a little jump from his coy grin and messy hair that says he's been sleeping too. I can't help but notice him all over again, this time, I catch the shadows in his gaze. They draw me in, making me stare when I should look away. My God. He's gorgeous. And something tells me he knows it.

"Have you checked the driveway?" he asks right away.

I glance at the window, feeling silly for having a face crush on my host. Assessing the driveway sobers my thought. "It's clear. I'll have no trouble getting out." And that's my cue. I reach for my backpack, I stop and face him completely. "Do you mind me asking about the night I found you? How did your helmet come off?"

"I don't know. I remember trying to get up and I must have taken it off." He touches the back of his head and winces.

"You had a coat on, but were in a tuxedo... I know you weren't drinking. I would have smelled it."

"I wasn't drinking, but I was driving fast. I shouldn't have even taken the snowmobile out. I was in a hurry. I lost control. I was supposed to be somewhere else and needed..." He pauses, as if catching himself. "I wasn't feeling well."

I nod skeptically. My patients can turn up some serious lies, but I take his word for now. His gaze falls to my mouth and my pulse flutters, all I offer in return is a polite smile.

His gaze darts to my backpack. "That all you brought?"

"The trip was last-minute. I pack lightly."

"Are your friends joining you at your house?" he asks casually.

"No, they aren't." I have invaded this guy's space long enough, even though his presence has that confident pull that makes me want to stay. He hasn't mentioned the other name he had uttered when I had found him. Brielle must be a girlfriend. I doubt someone like A.J. would not have a Brielle. "Forgive me if I'm not very social. I'm tired, my schedule is screwed up, and the last couple of days have been stressful. I'm not really up for making small talk. I just wanted to get away."

"To New Hampshire?" he calls my bluff with a blunt tone and an intense gaze.

"Why not? Right? Everyone's talking about how beautiful it is. I figured this was my chance."