The Christmas Blanket

Two, I was going to vomit.

I nearly fell on my face in my scramble out of the bed, twisting and turning until I freed each limb from the sheets. Moose barked at the commotion, and River groaned, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like are you okay, but I couldn’t be sure, because I had approximately four seconds to get to the bathroom.

I made it to the toilet just in time to drop to my knees and forfeit whatever I had left in my stomach, which wasn’t much else than booze. We’d eaten dinner so early, and then proceeded to get rip-roaring wasted the rest of the night, and my body was reminding me of those dire choices in every possible way this morning.

A long groan left me when I’d finished heaving, and I rested my cheek on the toilet, peeking up at the mass of man staring down at me.

River smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

“I hate you for making me take that shot of gin.”

He chuckled, lowering down to the ground next to me. It was then that I noticed the glass of something cloudy and orange in his hand, and two little candy-coated pills.

“Advil,” he explained. “And chase it with this.”

“What is it,” I asked, sitting up and taking the glass from him, inspecting the contents.

“My hangover cure.”

I arched a brow.

“Just trust me,” he insisted, and so I did, tossing the pills into my mouth and washing them down with the cure. It tasted like orange juice and saltwater, and I grimaced, choking down as much as I could manage before I gave up.

When I looked back at River, at the way his eyes were crawling over me, the way his lips were set in a soft smile, I realized what I’d somehow forgotten.

I was stark ass naked.

“God, look at me,” I said, curling in on myself. “A mess on Jesus’s birthday.”

River barked out a laugh, standing before he helped me up and back to the bed. We crawled in together, right next to a very happy Moose, who promptly licked my face in greeting.

Littered around the cabin was all the evidence of what had transpired last night. There were our half-empty glasses of spiked eggnog, and the two empty shot glasses we’d used to do our dares. The Christmas Blanket was in a heap by the fire, which had gone out overnight, and all the candles had burned down, or maybe River had blown them out.

The little radio still played Christmas music softly, and with just one look out the window, I could see the storm was over. It was still mostly cloudy, but the sun was shining through the silvery clouds.

My stomach was still unsettled when I looked at River, who had his head propped on his bicep, his eyes on me.

“So…” he said.

“So…” I echoed.

“We should probably talk.”

I swallowed. “About?”

A short laugh through his nose told me he saw right through me. “Well… after last night…” He shrugged. “I think we should maybe talk about what happens next. About what this means.”

Those words snapped me back to reality, and I sat up straighter in the bed, pulling the sheets up to cover my chest. I felt the panic zipping through me like live wires under my skin, and I took a deep breath too soothe my soul as best I could.

River sat up, too, watching me with bent brows now. “Eliza,” he said, not really as a question so much as a warning.

“Well…” I finally said, cheeks heating. “We… we had fun. We had a good night.” I paused. “Does it really have to mean anything?”

Even as the words formed on my tongue, I knew they were all wrong. But it was too late. I’d said them, and they hadn’t hung in the space between us for longer than a second before River rolled over onto his back, eyes on the ceiling and a short puff of a laugh from his chest.

“Of course.”

He shot up out of the bed before I could reach to stop him.

“I should have seen this coming,” he said, more to himself than to me. He shook his head, ripping open the top drawer of his dresser. He yanked on a fresh pair of boxer briefs, and then stomped into a pair of long johns. “Lucky for you, looks like it stopped snowing. We should have you out of here and on your way by lunch.”

He was already pulling on more clothing when my jaw fell open, and I watched the muscles of his back, blinking and trying to see my way out of the haze still pounding through my head. “Wait,” I tried, squeezing my eyes shut. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

When I opened my eyes again, River was still getting dressed.

“I just… I mean…” Every word I wanted to say was scrambled, and I found myself more and more confused as I tried to explain what I felt.