Your thumb hovered over the ‘call’ icon. You hadn’t spoken to Lukas in nearly two weeks, since their last date. Well, if you could call it a date. More like just hanging out at a bar. But you found yourself wanting to call Lukas. You’d thought about him on and off over the past few days. There had been a connection between you too, a small spark. Your dates never seemed to go as well as you hoped though. You each were trying to be too perfect for each-other and could never quite relax. Both of you were still seeing other guys too. Not quite really sure what kind of relationship you wanted. Not to mention the fact that you two didn’t live particularly close.

You wonder if calling him meant you wanted to define a potential relationship with Lukas. Maybe you were just thinking too seriously about things. You watch the snow come down in the ray of the lights as if the answer was up there. Fuck, if you don’t move soon you’d have to dig the car out. You glance at your watch. Like it or not, the fact of the matter was that Lukas lives less than fifteen minutes away from the Boise Airport to your thirty five. The fatigue of travel begins to set in. You cave. You call.

It rings twice. “Um. Hello? Ashton?”

“Hey,” you say. “Sorry if I’m calling so late.”

“No it’s fine,” he says. And he says it like he meant it. “What’s up? How are you?” You may be hallucinating but Lukas sounded a bit hopeful even.

You mess with your coat zipper. It’s getting warm in here with the heat on. “I’m alright. Tired. Listen um, I’m at the airport right now. Just got back from a work trip. The snow’s coming down super hard, and I don’t think it’s safe to try and drive to Caldwell. I was gonna get a hotel somewhere in Boise but… you know…I was thinking about you recently, and well. It’s um. You know, I thought I’d ask. You can say no, I mean. I get it.”

“Oh,” Lukas says. There’s noise in the background. You think he’s walking around. It sounds like feet on a wooden floor. Then there’s a rustling noise. “Woah, it is coming down hard. A lot harder than it was earlier. Shit yeah, it’s not safe to be out on the highway in white-out conditions this late. Yeah, please come. I got some left overs from dinner if you’re hungry.”

You exhale. “That’d be amazing. I’m starving. Thank you Lukas, I really appreciate this.”

“Yea no problem. I’ll text you my address ok? Park next to me in the driveway.”

“Ok. Gotcha. See you soon.”

“You too. Bye.”

“Huh.” You dare to say that went well. A little nervous butterfly dances in your chest.

It takes you half an hour to make that short drive. Lukas greets you at the door wearing a bathrobe and sweatpants. The house smells like cinnamon and dinner and the warmth drew you in. You dust off the snow, drop your duffel bag, and a glass of decaf coffee with brandy is thrust into your hand.

Once you collapse into a chair, you never want to get up again. The brandy is like a heating coil in your veins. You have your eyes glued to Lukas in his bathrobe and his visible chest hair as he moves around the kitchen, reheating some food for you.

“Mnn hmm. I was in Chicago. Conference.” You hear yourself say. And some other things. God, is that what he looks like under his coat? Why couldn’t you have met him in the summer? Although, maybe he wouldn’t have that beard in the summer, and he looks good with it…it’s trimmed. But fluffy. You want to run your fingers through it…scratch it…

“Uhhh Ash?”

You blink. “Yeah?”

“You ok?”

“Yeah yeah. Just…worn out.” You stretch and groan. “This brandy is magical.”

Lukas chuckles. “Everyone says Coke and Jack is the best marriage, but brandy and coffee will always be top in my book.”

You raise your glass. “I concur this.”

Lukas gestures. “Come on, food’s ready. While you eat, I’ll prepare your room.”

You nod. You relocate. You eat. It’s delicious – better than the hotel food, conference room food, or airport food. Real rib sticking American cooking. Baked potatoes were grown locally too.

You must have let your guard down and looked particularly enamored, because when Lukas came back in the room you look up at him – and he considers you – and neither of you speak. He raises the corner of his mouth, leans against counter and gestures behind him. “The guest bedroom is made up but ah, if you want to sleep in mine…it’s an option.”

You set down the napkin. “I like that option.”

You are a bit surprised to find out hepreferred to bottom, but despite your exhaustion you take good care of Lukas. He earned it. Your mom taught you how to be a good guest after all and to thank your host for their consideration.

The next morning, you wake up to three feet of snow on the ground with more coming. You pee and go back to bed. You’re not going in to work anyway. Plus you have your duffel from the trip. No need to even go home. So…you don’t.

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Captions are fictional.