“You don’t have your phone?” she asked.

Still, she couldn’t tell if the frustration on his face was genuine or if he was just messing with her, pretending to be worried about their trapped situation, when he actually had a solution.

“No. And you, in your infinite wisdom, left yours in the car, too.”

“Me, in my infinite wisdom...” she glared at him. “You were the one who let the storage door shut behind us!”

“How was I supposed to know that it would lock?”

Silence.

“Ok, this isn’t a complete disaster,” Grayson said, pounding on the door.

“HELLO!” he yelled.

“We’re surrounded by concrete walls,” Annie pointed out. “That probably won’t work.”

“You have a better idea?” he demanded, still drubbing away at the steel door.

Frowning at him, Annie strode forward, slamming her open palms into the door, yelling, “WE’RE DOWN HERE AND GOT LOCKED IN! PLEASE! HELP!”

After a few minutes, Annie’s palms were sore and her voice was getting hoarse. Stalking away, she went to the concrete corner and sat down.

“Great,” she muttered to herself.

“Believe me, on my list of people to be stuck in a cool freezer with, you’d be in my bottom five,” Grayson shot back.

He paced a bit before going to sit further down the wall beside some well-stocked shelves. His belly let out a bellow and he leapt back up. “Screw it, I’m getting something to eat.”

Annie frowned at him. “In here?”

“You interrupted my breakfast, remember? Anyway, maybe they shouldn’t have had a faulty cool storage door if they didn’t want people eating in here.”

She didn’t say anything more as he prowled about, pulling out bins and random food items, sniffing the odd one.

“Nice to know they keep old buns as relics of the illustrious past,” he commented, continuing on to the fridge. “Now, what do we have here...”

Opening it, he grinned. “Grayson, say hello to your breakfast.”

Annie glared at his back as he rifled through the interior. “So, you basically have no morals?”

Arms laden with wine bottles and packages of what looked to be chocolate, Grayson grinned. “Who? Me?”

As the fridge door shut behind him, he returned to his spot and set up his loot – two wine bottles and three packages of chocolate – in a semicircle in front of him.

“I would offer you some,” he said cheerily, as he broke off a whole row of dark chocolate and tossed it in his mouth, “But you’ve made the strictness of your moral compass perfectly clear.”

As he sat there, eating one row of chocolate after the other, topping it off with the odd sip of wine, Annie eyed him. “Are you seriously going to just sit there stuffing your face?”

Grayson lifted his bottle in a cheers. “You want to continue your self-proclaimed, pointless knocking fest, be my guest.”

And so, hitting him with one final glare, she did. She knocked and kicked and yelled against the unyielding steel door, which only resulted in Grayson sighing and no one coming to help.

Finally, with her head resounding from her blows and yells for help, she slumped to the wall. No, not again...

Because of her low blood sugar, her mole-esque family physician Dr. Winstersten had cautioned her about going too long without eating. In her rush out the door this morning, she’d skipped breakfast, figuring this banquet hall visit would only take a few minutes. But now, her body was bearing the brunt of all the excitement and activity. She could pass out in minutes if she didn’t eat something.

So, she hurried over to the fridge herself.

“No way,” Grayson whistled low. “Miss Annie Peters isn’t coming off her moral high horse to eat the stolen victuals, is she?”

Fridge door in hand, Annie crooked a brow. “Do you even know what ‘victuals’ means?”

No way was she going to tell him about her low blood sugar.

Grayson’s jaws snapped down on another chocolate row and, after a few chews, he smiled his chocolaty teeth at her. “Just because I enjoy the pleasures of Hooters doesn’t mean I’m illiterate. I enjoy a good Dostoyevsky as much as anyone.”

Returning her gaze to the interior of the fridge, Annie shrugged. If that was his way of getting her to admit she was impressed – which she was – she wasn’t biting. “Jerks typically aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed.”

She gathered some chocolate packages of her own out of the fridge rack on the door, peering at the heft of cheddar further in – ew, mold! – before leaving it alone. As she returned to her empty corner, she broke off a piece of chocolate and shoved it in her mouth as Grayson jabbed a proud finger to his chest.

“Well, this jerk is the sharpest tool in the whole damn cool storage.”

Annie eyed him steadily, swallowing her chocolate, “You really have no shame, do you?”

He smiled at that, swigging his wine deep. “Why? Because it’s made you so very happy?”

Annie froze, her face aghast. Different retorts curdled in her throat, all of them neutralized by the impartial knowledge that rendered her mute – he was right.

She said nothing, cracking off some more chocolate and slipping it into her mouth. Immediately, she felt her body relaxing further, her vision growing clearer.

Ah, blessed relief.

For a few minutes, they sat there like that; the only sound their chocolate breaking and him devouring his odd sip.

“I’m sorry, you know,” he said.

Nope, not gonna dignify that with a response. Annie wasn’t in the mood to play whatever game he had in mind.

“Seriously,” his smile was actually abashed. “I’ve never been known for saying the right thing. That’s why Kyle and I were always so good together. He’d tell me when I was being an asshole.”

Annie eyed him coolly, “So, like every day then?”

“Guess I deserve that,” he traced a finger around the rim of his wine bottle thoughtfully. “You can think what you want of me as a person, but as for whether I care about my friend Kyle, there’s no argument.”

“So,” he continued. “I’m just looking out for him. He’s been cheated on before. Can you guarantee Kyla won’t do that?”

Annie had been softening until his gruff question surfaced.

“You know I can’t,” she said quietly.

Grayson’s face darkened. “There you have it, then.”

“No,” she was getting angry now, unreasonably, terrifically angry. Like she wanted to smash that stupid wine bottle over his stupid, snide face. “I can’t guarantee anything in life, least of all that. Kyla is another human being, and I’m not going to pretend that I know every single thing she’ll do for the rest of her life. But I can say this; she’s the sweetest, most loyal friend I’ve ever known. And if that’s not good enough for you, then that’s just too bad.”

Grayson scowled, then sighed. “Maybe you’re right. It’s just... I’ve never seen him like this.”

“I can see why,” Annie said simply. “Kyla’s a great person and an even better girlfriend. It’s trite but true; any guy would be lucky to have her.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Grayson said, although he didn’t sound as unconvinced as he’d probably intended.

“And what about Kyle, though?” Annie asked. “Having a friend like you makes me doubt whether he’s really ready for a monogamous relationship.”

Grayson snorted. “Oh, believe me, he’s more than ready. C’mon, he thought that Hooters was an owl-themed restaurant, for Christ’s sake.”

Annie continued eating her chocolate and avoided looking at him.

“I was there when he went through a really bad breakup, ok?” Grayson continued. “Just don’t want to see it happen to him, again.”

Annie chewed, frowning. Right now, he was clearly just thinking out loud, no answer needed on her part.

Her gaze slid his way. If only that asshat hadn’t taken all the dark chocolate... she could see it there, in his gluttonous fingers, disappearing by the minute, while she was forced to make do with some skimpy milk chocolate. No way was she going to ask for his, though.

Annie was not about to give him the satisfaction, or even the slightest indication that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to understand.

“Anyway,” he sighed. “Kyle’s set his heart on your friend, barely hears anything I say. I don’t think I could convince him out of it, even if I wanted to. Which... I’m not sure I would anymore.”

“That’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said all day,” Annie said, dryly.

Grayson smirked with half his mouth, wagging his chocolate in hand. “You seem to be enjoying the chocolate too, I see.”

He rolled a wine bottle her way. “There’s enough of this to share.”

It hit her foot, and she rolled it back, the green-tinged liquid setting off reflections on the walls.

“I’m good, thanks.”

And yet, he didn’t wait a second and immediately rolled it back. “Would it kill you to have a little fun?”

This time, when it hit her foot, Annie didn’t roll it back. “Fun isn’t just getting drunk.”

“It sure isn’t just being sober, either,” he said, reasonably.

He had a point. Annie’s last few months in Toronto had been borderline unbearable. She’d basically gotten stuck in the rut of work, sleep, eat and repeat. Although the nurses she worked with had invited her out, she almost never joined them in what they had affectionately dubbed as their ‘Nurses Night Out’. The last time she’d even had a drink, let alone gotten drunk... it had to be months now.

Grasping the bottle by the neck, Annie lifted it to her face. Chardonnay, great. Might as well.

Uncorking it, she lifted it to her lips. “Maybe it’ll make being trapped in here with you slightly more bearable.”

Grayson lifted his bottle in a grinning salute. “From experience, I can assure you it does wonders.”

Here’s to that. As Annie took the deepest swig she could muster, he asked, “What do you do for fun anyway?”

“Is that how you make conversation – by insulting the other person?”

He fanned his muscled arms out into a stretch. “Not always, though it is my chosen method.”

Annie took another, even longer swig before responding, “My means of fun won’t surprise you – sorting my entirely grey wardrobe, feeding my seventeen cats, knitting.”

Grayson’s eyes goggled, as Annie’s serious expression cracked into laughter. It echoed around them, as Grayson continued to gape at her. “That wasn’t...”

“A joke, yes,” she grinned again. “Shockingly, I do know how to make those.”

Grayson smiled, an open, new type of grin, “Huh. Learn something new every day.”

“Seriously, though,” Annie continued, “My job doesn’t give me much time.”

“What are you?” Grayson asked. “Professional knitter? Cat walker?”

“Both,” Annie said, as they chuckled. “I’m a nurse.”

The up-raised brows and utter surprise on Grayson’s visage annoyed Annie.

“What?” she asked, “Surprised because I’m not nice enough?”

“Not exactly,” Grayson looked to the ceiling. “Just wondering how you’d be treating me if, say, my leg was all busted and I was in a hospital bed.”

“If you’re as mouthy as you are now, I’d probably take you to volleyball.”

Grayson whistled, “Damn, you’re ice cold.”

Annie giggled, “No, I don’t mean in an actual game. I meant go to watch it. My hospital has games the faculty puts on; it lets patients who are recovered enough to come by and watch. We wheel them in the back bleachers, usually.”

“No shit?” Grayson asked.

“No shit,” Annie replied.

He was squinting at her now, “But you, you don’t...”

“I play outside hitter.”

He could only gape at her, while her grin broadened with a shrug. “Sorry I don’t fit your grey sweatpants-wearing stereotype.”

“Sorry I don’t fit your dumb tool stereotype.”

As she smiled wordlessly at him, he grimaced. “I’m not a complete ass to everyone, you know.”

He glared at her in silence and continued, “I’m part of Big Brothers. I sponsor this Piper kid; he’s a real piece of work, like a magnet for the bullies. Taped-up glasses, no mom and an alcoholic dad; it’s the works.”

“Is this elaborate lie supposed to impress me?” Annie asked and then paused.

Now she was really looking at him, “You’re really telling the truth, aren’t you?”

Grayson let out his own much-maligned sigh. “God, I take my best friend to Hooters, make sure his new wifey-to-be isn’t some sketchy ho, and now you think I’m the Devil Incarnate?”

“Ok, me assuming you were lying about being part of Big Brothers and Sisters was a bit out of line,” Annie admitted, “It’s just... I am too.”

Eyeing him, she continued, “I’m paired with this ten-year-old named Abigail. She has seven siblings and two tired and cared-out parents. She’s sweet. We spend most of our time reading together. Harry Potter, Dianne Wynne Jones...”

She trailed off. Why was she telling him this?

“It’s just nice, helping,” she explained. “Feels good.”

Grayson slid her a look. “It does, doesn’t it?”

She peeled her gaze away. Had they just had a moment there?

A few seconds later, Grayson’s jokey voice interrupted her reverie, “Whoa, you’ve almost caught up with me. Better slow down.”

His gaze flicked to her wine bottle.

This guy thought he knew what was best for everything. Annie gave it a swish, before taking another gulp. “Or what?”

This quiet staring match was different from the others.

“Or I’ll have to offer you my coat – you’re shivering.”

“Cheers to that,” Annie said with another giggle.

Next thing she knew, a coat had been thrown down onto her feet, courtesy of Grayson. As she wrapped it around her, her bottle came perilously close to tipping over.

Now it was Grayson sitting next to her, their legs touching. “No way am I going to trust you with that – it’s new and suede.”

“One minute I’m a curmudgeonly, old, knitting cat lady, and the next I’m an unreliable floozy,” Annie’s eyes were shining as she faced him. “Which one is it?”

He leaned forward, helping her bottle to the ground, “I don’t know.”

Their eyes met. There was something about him she couldn’t place, something new. He was exciting. His gaze held a dare for hers; a dare that flicked to her lips. The fridge was humming like a timer ticking down. Their breathing had synced up at some point.

When the dare in his gaze flicked to her lips, again, she did him one better. As her lips edged to his, so did his draw to hers, like magnets being pulled together.

One more second and everything would be altered, one more breath and then...

Creak. The door opened slowly.

As they scrambled apart, Annie saw it was the same woman who had taken them there.

She tilted her angular head at them in a look vaguely reminiscent of Annie’s perpetually disapproving Grade Seven teacher, Madame Dorleau.

“What are you doing in here?” she said.

Grayson rose, “We got locked in. We’ve been here for hours and...”

She nodded grimly, “Made liberal use of the chocolate and wine, I see.” She waved a hand. “No matter. We ought to have this thing repaired, anyway.”

Grayson helped Annie up. Her legs didn’t want to cooperate, but steadying herself on his chest helped.

“Thanks for rescuing us,” she said, in a grateful rush that sounded odd to her ears.

Once they were outside, a nice few breaths of fresh air brought her to her senses.

“Hey, we made it,” Grayson was smiling at her as if things had changed between them, as if their lips really had met.

She nodded, “Yep. Time to go home now.”

As they piled into his car, his smile had worn off. Annie spent the rest of the ride looking out the window. She knew what she had to do now. Fix the napkins, call the florist and, most of all, stay the hell away from Grayson. She had seen what he was.

What had happened in that cool storage was way too close for comfort. Even now, her body was vibrating with excitement like she hadn’t felt since... no matter.

Staying the hell away from Grayson was paramount.