Page 101 of Snowed Inn

She gives me a slow once-over. “He tried to talk to you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe.”

“And you cut him off.”

I glance over. “How did you—?”

Ellie cocks her head, unimpressed. “Maria, I’ve seen you run from conversations that might involve emotions before. You looked like a trash panda in a floodlight.”

I groan, rubbing my temples. “Okay, fine. You’re right. You win. Does that make you happy?”

But she doesn’t smile. Doesn’t gloat. Instead, her voice softens.

“No. Not really.” She pauses. “You told me you liked him. That it meant something.”

“It did,” I admit, too fast. “The sex was . . .” I glance around, lowering my voice. “Phenomenal. Like, life-altering. Like I might never fully recover. But that’s not the point.”

Ellie crosses her arms. “Then what is the point?”

I let out a sharp breath. “He lives here. I live in Manhattan. He’s a bartender. I’m . . .” I trail off, realizing I don’t even know who I am right now.

“A woman who fell for a hot bartender. That’s not a crime.”

I shake my head, gripping the edge of the counter like it might hold me upright. “No. I’m not falling for Jesse Butler.”

Ellie doesn’t argue. She just hums. That smug, infuriating, you’re-already-there hum.

“I’m going to pack,” I announce.

“You’re already packed.”

“Well, then I’m going to fake-pack. I need something to do besides sit here and be judged.”

I push off the counter and head for the stairs before she can say anything else. My legs feel heavy, like my body knows I’m running away and isn’t quite on board.

Once I’m back in the room, I pull out my phone to call Donny. It’s early, but I’ll bribe him with another tip. I’ll head to the airport. Get on a plane. Put this whole thing behind me.

The Honeycrisp Orchard Inn doesn’t owe me anything.

I can’t afford to leave more of myself behind than I already have.

Chapter 38

I’m standing in the lobby with my suitcases waiting for Donny to pull his hatchback to the front door when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen. It’s Dad. I texted him my flight info this morning.

I hesitate for half a second before ducking into the corridor.

“Hey, Dad.”

His face appears on the screen, warm and familiar. “There she is! It’s about time. We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost in all that snow. Luca thinks you joined a cult.”

I smile. “Nope. No cult. But if I never see snow again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Well, we’re just happy you’re finally coming.” He pauses. “Your mother keeps asking if you’re bringing anyone home with you.”

I laugh it off. “Nope, just me.” But my fingers grip the phone a little tighter.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. You know we’re all hoping you finally meet a nice guy.”