Jason

 

 

"Stay with you?" I ask. I must not have heard her right.

She looks like she can't believe her own words. Her face turned even more pale than it was before, replacing the earlier blush on her cheeks. I knew she was smitten with me, but I never expected her to be this bold.

"Yes," she says. Her voice is so low, it's barely more than a whisper. "I have room… if you want to stay overnight at my place."

I did not expect this. And from the looks of it, neither did she. She has a rather shocked look on her face, and the carafe is shaking in her hand.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask her. "I don't want to impose."

She nods. "We can't let you go back out on the roads in this weather."

"I'll be okay."

"Fine," she says, her voice still sounding an octave off normal. "It was just an idea."

"And an offer I'd graciously accept," I say, before either of us can change our minds. "If you're sure about it, that is."

I can't deny that the offer is intriguing. A cute girl inviting me to spend the night at her place. What kind of idiot would say no to that? Especially if the only other option is to continue trying to drive through this damn white-out. I'm fucking exhausted, and even if she's offering nothing more than a couch to sleep on, I'll gladly take it.

But that doesn't mean I won’t try to get to know her a little better. The blush on her cheeks and the way she's swaying her hips when she knows I'm watching her give me enough reason to hope for more.

"I am sure about this," she says, apparently taking my words as a challenge. "But you'll have to wait for my shift to end. I'm working until three."

Sree. She’s so cute.

"Sure," I say, even though the thought of hanging out in this diner for half of the day doesn't sound very appealing. "I'll try to get some work done in one of the booths over there after I finish my breakfast, which is, by the way, one of the finest I've ever had. Kudos to the chef."

She smiles. "I'll let Mrs. Lynn know you like it."

"Do you have a password the Wi-Fi?" I ask, holding up my phone. "There's only one option listed on here, and it's secured."

She shakes her head. "That's not ours, I'm sorry. We're not Starbucks."

I raise my eyebrows at her. This girl is asking for trouble with snippy remarks like that.

She strides off to the kitchen then, again swaying her hips seductively. And it works. My eyes are glued to her back side until she's out of sight, my head running wild with fantasies of all the things I want to do to her. I wonder if she'll let me. I wonder if she might be into the things I have to offer. A strong hand clasping around her throat, leaving marks on her pale skin, yanking on her thick locks, those red lips wrapped around my cock...

I shake it off. God knows I could use a stimulating encounter to clear my head of the stress from the past few days, the convention, the presentation, and the troublesome journey home. But that doesn't mean it will happen.

But it also doesn’t mean that it won’t.

I hang on to that hope as the day drags on, leaving me with nothing to do other than sip coffee and go through my notes from the convention. There were plenty of presentations that drew my interest, and while I wait for Lena's shift to end, I begin to write down notes for my father and phrase e-mails to the people I want to keep in touch with.

I step outside a few times, only to realize that the blizzard has not slowed one bit. I'm met with bitter cold winds and driving snow, while I try to find a spot that has some kind of reception so I can reach my father. The snow is piling up and it looks like the people of Greymeadow have just succumbed to it. There's no one outside, and there’s not a single person or machine even trying to clear the streets or keep the snow in check in some way. They’re just letting it take over, covering the small town in a heavy, thick, white blanket.

Other than me, Lena and the elderly lady only serve four other people over the course of the day - an older couple that lives right across the street and a mother who drags her son down the street to the diner, because he's spent the afternoon begging for a hot chocolate.

There's still an hour left on her shift when Lena shows up at my booth. She's still wearing the red dress with the plaid skirt, but she’s gotten rid of the apron and is in the process of wrapping herself up in a heavy down jacket. From the corner of my eye, I can see the older lady, Mrs. Lynn, standing close to the swinging doors to the kitchen, watching us.

"Ready to go?" Lena asks. "We're closing early today. The snow is supposed to pick up even more, and there's really no point in being here any longer."

"I've been ready for hours," I answer with a curt smile.

"Great." She casts me a nervous smile and zips up her jacket.

"I’m Jason, by the way," I introduce myself, realizing that she doesn’t know my name. "You’re Lena?"

She looks puzzled when she nods.

"Yeah, Lena," she utters. "Nice to meet you, Jason. Come on, let’s go. It's just a short walk."

She beckons me to follow her and I gather up my belongings and throw on my own winter coat, noticing that Mrs. Lynn's eyes never leave us. The expression on her face is friendly when I wave goodbye to her, but it still seems as if she's trying to remind me to be on my best behavior. She knows I'm going to be staying with Lena, and she'll be the first to know if I cause any trouble. The assuring smile on my face is meant to convey that I intend no harm, but I can't be sure that she interprets it that way.

We step outside into the squall. I growl as the wind hits my face forcefully and drives a new batch of snowflakes into my eyes. I pull up my collar and curse myself for only bringing a thin scarf.

Lena, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be bothered by the harsh weather at all. She trudges through the knee-high snow as if it was the most natural thing, barely acknowledging the fierce wind whipping at us. She doesn't turn around once to see if I'm following her, but just continues plodding along, leading me to her place.

I shoulder my weekender bag and follow her, keeping up with her through the piles of snow.