Ridley Holland has just lost the love of her life. She has no desire to return to the world of motocross, but she knows Teuvo would want her to continue. So she plays the part: an upcoming professional athlete with inevitable determination to domina...
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Teuvo
Ridley and I are staying in a cabin in Banff near Whiskey Creek. It's on the quainter side of town, nestled in a thicket of trees near a meandering creek. The water is an astounding shade of blue and the air smells of damp dirt and pine needles. Rubbing my biceps, I turn away from the bay window and survey the cabin.
It reminds me of my lake house back in the Okanagan, only longer and crowded. There's a small couch with grey upholstery, and it's pressed against a log wall. A small knitted blanket hangs over the back, decorated with a few throw pillows. In front is a round coffee table. It's piled with magazines and travel brochures. The floors are a lighter walnut, scuffed from years of weathering. The colour matches the log walls, except the walls are glossier than the floor, adding an almost wet texture. On the far end, is the kitchen and entryway. Both are considerably small, comprising a door, a welcome mat, a fridge, sink, and stove/oven. However, the windows and grand wood-burning fireplace make up for the limited space, adding to the comforting vibes.
I take a deep breath, running a hand through my hair. The air inside smells musky with a subtle hint of lingering campfire smoke. Every so often, I can smell the fresh scent of Ridley's shampoo. She's showering before we head out to explore Banff the rest of the evening. We spent the morning and early afternoon hiking. It's her twenty-fifth birthday today, and I'm nervous about what our remaining hours of daylight will bring.
When I approach this newfound relationship with logic, I fear we're moving too fast. We're about two months into this relationship now. I already have Ridley's body memorized. I know where and how she wants me to touch her. The pace. The taste of her lips and other body parts. I'm aware of her favourite colour, band, dessert, and T-shirt she sleeps in. Plus, I'm here, alone with Ridley, and celebrating her birthday. We're kilometres away from home, which tells me she trusts me as much as I trust her.
My feet stick to the floor as I saunter into the bedroom we're sharing. Ridley and I welcomed the one-bed trope with open arms. I love sleeping with her. She's my personal furnace and doesn't hog the covers. Though... her snoring can get bad. Especially if she's been drinking. She claims I'm a restless sleeper, but it doesn't bother her because she loves how we wake up tangled together.
The bedroom is large, which again makes up for the lack of space in the living room and kitchen. There's a king-sized bed covered with a lighter quilt. It's patterned with different shades of grey. Several pillows line the headboard and a fuzzy blanket is strewn across the foot of the bed. Staring at it make me want to crawl in and bury myself in comfort. With Ridley, of course.
My gaze shifts to the high ceiling, where several pendant lights are hanging to different lengths. Normally, I wouldn't be so focused on the interior design of a cabin. But with renovations in mind for the lake house, I'm soaking up every idea I can. The log walls aren't my thing, but I love the grey theme of this cabin. It's chic and comforting with hints of rustic. The bedspread and pillows, along with the flooring, would look gorgeous with the mural I plan to paint on the accent wall behind my bed. It'll be pine trees shrouded in mist. All I need to do is find the perfect shade of green. Meaning, Ridley needs to pick it out. She loves the colour green, but it's a specific shade, sitting somewhere between pine and dark-green.
