I made myself relax and pushed the confusing thoughts aside. The constant drum of rain on the roof lulled me into a pleasant doze and I stayed there until the water began to cool. I let the water out and stood to wash my hair under the shower. Despite the last few hours and the unwelcome guest downstairs, I felt considerably lighter when I wrapped a large towel around me and walked into my bedroom.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” I shrieked at Nikolas who sat on my couch with my traitorous cat curled up beside him. My sketch pad lay open on his lap as he studied one of the drawings. My drawings were like my journal and there was something disturbingly intimate about him sitting in my private space looking at them. “Get out of my room and keep your hands off my things.”

He ignored my outburst, his gaze dark and unfathomable as he looked at me. “You took so long I thought you had tried to run off again.”

I pulled the towel tighter around me and tried to ignore the heat infusing my face. “Well, as you can see I am still here. Now do you mind leaving my room so I can get dressed?”

An infuriating smile played around the corners of his mouth and the room suddenly felt too warm. “Of course.” He laid the sketchbook on the couch and stood. “Your drawings are quite good. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I don’t show them to anyone. They’re private,” I said pointedly to remind him again that he was violating my personal space. Inside I felt a small flare of pleasure at the praise but I would never let him know that.

He looked entirely unapologetic for the intrusion as he walked unhurriedly to the stairs. “I’ll see you downstairs shortly.”

Fuming, I went to the couch to close the sketchbook and stopped just short of reaching for it when I saw Nikolas’s face looking up at me. I felt the familiar stab of fear I experienced every time I remembered that night in Portland. I don’t write down my feelings in a journal, I draw them and for some reason this image was the one that stood out most in my memory from that night. Maybe because it was the moment I knew I was not alone. It made me feel open and vulnerable having someone else look at it, especially Nikolas.

I took my time getting dressed and I planned to take overly long to dry my hair to avoid facing him as long as possible. The storm had other ideas, however, and the power went out just as I picked up my hair dryer. “Great!” I muttered, groping for a flashlight. I grabbed a towel to dry my hair as best I could and then, unable to delay any longer, made my way downstairs with Daisy close at my heels.

I found Nikolas in the kitchen making sandwiches by candlelight with his sleeves pulled up and his leather jacket thrown over the back of a chair. The casual, domestic picture was such a contrast to the image of the warrior I was used to, that I stopped short and Daisy ran into the back of my legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Dinner. I would have ordered in but it looks like power is out all over town. So sandwiches it is.” He slid a plate across the counter toward me. “Hope you like roast beef.”

“Um thanks… I do.” I mumbled, trying to figure out what he was up to. One minute he was furious and the next he was making me dinner. If he thought he could throw me off guard by being nice to me all of a sudden – he was right. I had no idea how to respond to this new side of him. To hide my discomfort I grabbed a bag of potato chips from the pantry and a bottle of dill pickles from the fridge, laying them both on the table with two glasses of soda.

Nikolas carried our sandwiches to the table and placed the pillar candle in the center. I chewed my bottom lip and tucked my damp hair nervously behind my ear when it struck me what a cozy picture we made, eating by candlelight while a storm howled outside. I peeked at Nikolas who seemed quite at ease, piling chips on his plate as if we ate together like this everyday. His hair was still damp from the rain and his features were relaxed, almost like he was enjoying himself. He looked up and his eyes were like liquid smoke in the candlelight when they met mine. My stomach did a little leap and I immediately found my own sandwich fascinating.

The sandwich was just how I liked mine: roast beef, cheese, and horseradish sauce on rye. I almost asked him how he knew what my favorite was but I refrained. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know how much he knew about me.

We ate in silence for a minute before he asked the question I knew was coming. “You want to tell me where you disappeared to today and why you came back smelling like you went for a swim in the bay?”

I stopped nibbling a chip to say, “It was personal business I had to take care of… and I did go for a swim in the bay. Satisfied?”

“Not even close.”

There was another silence as I picked up my sandwich and bit into it, refusing to expand upon my story. I felt Nikolas’s gaze but I pretended to ignore him. It was going to take a lot more than a candlelight dinner to make me spill.

It took me a few minutes to realize the scolding I was expecting was not coming and I glanced at Nikolas to find him enjoying his meal. Where was the man who had practically shot daggers at me out on the waterfront less than hour ago?

“Aren’t you going to yell at me or something?”

He shrugged without looking up from his sandwich. “Will it make you tell me what you were doing today?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t we just have a pleasant meal instead?”

I scowled at him, not sure what to make of his answer. Was he trying to trick me into telling him the truth? He shows up looking like he’s about to bring the wrath of God down on me and then he makes me dinner and wants to exchange pleasantries. Did I just step into a Twilight Zone episode?