be a pain in the ass. So just calm your tits, all right?”
“Screw you, Dev.” She rose from the chair, book in hand, and grabbed the candle glowing from the coffee table. She scowled at me before walking to her room and slamming the door behind her.
“Sweet dreams!” I yelled with a sardonic laugh before walking into my room and passing out, still fully clothed, on the enormous king-sized bed. It was soft and inviting, and I drifted off into a welcome and sleep.
At least I could escape Lyra in my dreams.
Chapter 4
LYRA
I didn’t sleep well at all. Between my fight with Dev and knowing Maren probably would never make it to the resort, my head was spinning. I couldn’t relax. And so I’d tried to focus on my book, but found myself rereading the same paragraphs over and over as Dev’s words lingered in my head.
You don’t have to be a bitch.
Everyone has the name they hate to be called. And aside from stubborn and obstinate, bitch was mine. I was a strong, intelligent, and opinionated woman, and I hated how men felt so threatened by that—so threatened that they threw that word around like confetti.
Pathetic.
I’d heard it for years—usually when alcohol was involved, like the night before. And usually because of that fact, I could brush it off.
So why couldn’t I brush it off with Dev?
At first morning light, I grabbed my phone to text Maren and found about eight texts from my mother.
-An avalanche?!?
-Are you safe?
-Why didn’t you call me?
-Yes, I know you’re an adult, but you’re still my baby! CALL ME, LYRA!
-It’s 3am and I haven’t slept at all….and it’s your fault.
-Don’t make me call hospitals! Lyra!
I laid back down and inhaled deeply, holding it for five seconds and exhaling slowly for another five. No one could raise my blood pressure like my mother.
-Mom, I’m at the resort. You know this. We’re snowed in but I’m fine! Why are you panicking?
-I’m an old woman, you can’t make me worry like this! Selfish girl!
-Mom, relax! I’m here, I’m safe and I’ll let you know when I’m able to go home, okay?
-I almost bought a plane ticket to Seattle!
-What good would that have done? The roads are blocked here, you’d just be stuck too!
No response. Maybe she’d relax enough to let it drop.
Seizing an opportunity of silence, I texted Maren.
-Give me some good news please.
It was still ridiculously early, so I knew she and Peter weren’t even awake yet. I sighed and climbed out of bed, pulling on my warmest pair of plaid pajama pants and slippers. With a yawn, I walked into the living area and was surprised to see Dev sitting on the couch, looking down at his phone.
“Do me a favor, would you?”
“What?” I asked, startled.
“Silence your damn phone. Who the hell is texting you this early anyway?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t ask.”
“Lovers’ quarrel?”
“Excuse me?”
Dev nodded toward the phone in my hand. “The texts.”
“Hardly.”
“Oh, I forgot, nobody’s good enough for Queen Lyra.”
“It’s way too early for me to handle you,” I said with a scoff and a yawn as I turned my back to him and walked into the kitchenette. The smell of freshly roasted coffee drifted toward me, and I let out a satisfied sigh.
“Coffee’s already brewing. It’ll be up soon,” Dev said from the couch.
“Thanks,” I said impassively, searching the cabinet for a mug. Acknowledging his olive branch of a pot of coffee, I grabbed one for him too. The last few drips of the coffee plopped into the pot.
“Creamer?” I asked.
Dev hopped up from his seat. “No, it’s fine, I got it.”
“I promise I can handle it,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
Dev approached, wearing a fluffy white bathrobe. “Where did you get that?”
“My bathroom.” He shrugged, extending his hand for the mug. “What, you don’t have one? Told ya you should’ve taken one of the big rooms. You snooze, you lose.”
“Whatever,” I said, pouring an individual container of hazelnut creamer into my coffee.
“Sugar?” Dev asked after plopping two cubes into his mug.
“Two, please.”
After he gingerly placed two cubes into my steaming cup, I watched to see if he would do something special with his morning beverage—something another human couldn’t possibly handle. Nope.
“Seriously? That’s it?”
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“Two sugar cubes? Pretty sure I could have dropped those in for ya.”
He shrugged but said nothing.
“Seriously, what’s your deal?”
“I just like to do it myself. Stop making it a thing.”
“It’s not a thing. I just don’t get it,” I said before blowing on the rim