Snowed In (But Make It Fictional)
1283 Words
Finally—my day off.
I clipped Tyler’s harness into the bike carrier I rigged myself, kissed his golden retriever head, and hopped onto my bike. The morning sun was warm but not punishing, and the wind felt like freedom against my cheeks as I pedaled down the gravel road. Tyler sat like a king in his padded seat behind me, his tongue flopping out, tail wagging under his service vest.
I’d scoped out a coffee shop a few miles away when I first came here and decided today was a good day to visit. One lavender iced drink and a little questionable BookTok escapism? Yes, please.
When we rolled up, I propped my bike against the rail and unhooked Tyler. He trotted at my side like the professional he was, vest snug and eyes alert. His leash stayed tucked in my bag—I always had it just in case—but he never needed it. People watched us curiously as we stepped inside, probably because he was better behaved than most humans.
The smell of espresso and steamed milk wrapped around me like a hug. The girl behind the counter had a nose ring and purple hair, and she lit up at the sight of Tyler.
“Lavender iced latte, please. Oat milk,” I said.
She glanced down at Tyler, who was sitting like a statue at my heel. “For you, or him?”
I grinned. “Definitely me. He’s more of a peanut butter guy.”
Drink in hand, I snagged a corner table near the window and let Tyler curl up beside me. He rested his head on my foot like a warm, breathing slipper. I pulled out the latest BookTok darling from my backpack—the one with the cover everyone was blushing over—and flipped to where I’d left off.
The girl in the book was officially snowed in at a remote cabin with her hot, brooding not-uncle and his even hotter sons. It was chaotic, messy, probably deeply inappropriate—and I was all in. I’d just hit the chapter with the spicy scene. You know the one. A fireplace. A blizzard. Tension so thick it needed a crowbar.
I took a long sip of my lavender drink and sank deeper into the fantasy.
This? This was exactly what I needed.
The chair across from me scraped against the floor.
I didn’t even look up at first—I was mid-sentence, halfway through a very illegal paragraph involving a a graphic movie. But then a familiar voice cut through my fantasy.
“Is that any good?”
I blinked, and there he was.
Teddy.
His golden-brown hair was tucked beneath a faded baseball cap, sunglasses hanging from the collar of his shirt, and those stupidly intense blue eyes focused right on me. Like he was reading me the way I’d just been reading about snowed-in, questionably related lovers.
I snapped the book shut, probably a little too fast. “It’s… literature,” I said, eyes narrowing slightly.
He grinned like he knew exactly what kind of literature.
“Didn’t take you for the spicy smut type.”
“I didn’t take you for the type who’d show up unannounced.”
Teddy held up his hands, still smiling. “Guilty. I saw Tyler through the window and figured you weren’t far.”
Tyler, traitor that he was, thumped his tail against the floor and let out a soft woof of recognition.
I raised a brow. “So you followed my dog?”
“I followed my instincts,” he said, sliding into the seat across from me.
“Funny. I thought your instincts were busy getting caressed by the long-limbed siren from the other night.”
His smile dimmed for a split second, just a flicker, but he recovered. “Ah. So that’s what this is.”
I folded my arms, guarding myself with the only armor I had—sarcasm. “What exactly do you think this is?”
“A reunion?” he offered. “A coincidence? A chance to explain?”
“Explain what? That you’ve got a fan club of exes who like to touch you in public?”
Teddy leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. “I didn’t ask her to do that. I didn’t even know she was going to be there. I was talking to her, Blue, not making out with her in the corner like a certain drummer.”
He had a point, but I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. I sipped my lavender drink, keeping my expression neutral. “Well, congratulations. You found me. Now what?”
Teddy tilted his head, studying me. “Now I convince you to give me a second chance to make a first impression.”
I looked away, out the window, at the peaceful street beyond the glass. But inside, I wasn’t peaceful at all. I was a shaken snow globe.
Tyler let out a little huff, resting his chin on my foot again. Like he knew I was going to need some grounding.
“Keep talking,” I said finally. “But this time, don’t let anyone grope you mid-sentence.”
Teddy rested his elbows on the table and leaned in like he had a secret. “Since you’re obviously a fan of the unpredictable—van life, solo travel, smutty novels—I figured you might be into a little adventure.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That sounds suspiciously like a pitch.”
“Maybe it is,” he said with a crooked grin. “I want to take you on a hike.”
I blinked. “A hike?”
“Yeah. You know—nature, trees, breathing the air instead of caffeine fumes.”
I looked at him flatly. “You’re aware this is how a lot of true crime documentaries start, right? Mysterious musician lures woman into woods under the guise of ‘fresh air.’ Spoiler alert: it’s not fresh air, it’s her final breath.”
Teddy chuckled. “Wow. You really do read a lot.”
“I’m just saying, I need more than ‘let’s hike’ before I wander into the wilderness with a man who plays guitar and has fan girls stroking his biceps at bars.”
He leaned back, laughing. “Alright. Fair. But you’ve got Tyler, right? He’d never let me get away with anything sketchy.”
“True,” I said, glancing under the table at where Tyler had settled into a loaf of golden fluff. “But even he needs sleep.”
“So,” he continued, tone teasing, “is that a maybe?”
I tilted my head, pretending to think. “Where would this hypothetical hike be?”
“Just outside of town. Not too far. Sunrise view, wildflowers, good conversation—assuming you don’t murder me first.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, sipping the last of my drink. “When?”
“Tomorrow. Early. Like, meet-me-here-at-five-a.m. early.”
I winced. “Gross.”
“C’mon. You live in a van. You’re basically halfway to granola already.”
I tried not to smile. Tried really hard. “Fine,” I said, standing and slinging my bag over my shoulder. “But if I don’t come back, tell the police to start with you.”
Teddy stood, holding up an imaginary scout’s honor. “Deal. See you before the sun does, Blue.”
Tyler gave a soft bark of approval, and as I walked out of the café, I felt the edge of a grin curl at my lips.
Stupid musician. Stupid pretty eyes. Stupid hike.
I was in trouble.
- Writer
