Chapter Text
He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, flopped onto the couch, and turned on the TV mostly for background noise while rain continued hammering outside.
And despite every attempt not to—
he found himself listening for the bathroom door anyway.
Dante sat at one end of the couch with a bottle of water resting against his knee while the TV played quietly in the background.
Some late-night rerun he wasn’t actually watching.
Rain still hammered against the windows.
From down the hallway, he could hear drawers opening.
Water running briefly.
The soft sound of movement inside the bathroom.
And unfortunately—
his brain was very aware there was a woman in his apartment.
Which was uncommon enough already.
Dante leaned his head back against the couch cushion with a quiet sigh.
His dating life wasn’t exactly thriving.
Hard to meet people when you lived in the middle of nowhere fixing motorcycles and actively avoiding most of humanity.
Not that he minded.
Mostly.
And it wasn’t like he was sitting there fantasizing about the girl in his bathroom either.
For all he knew:
- she had a boyfriend
- a husband
- three kids
- an entire normal life somewhere far away from this mountain
Still.
Cute was cute.
Even if she was stubborn as hell.
The bathroom door opened.
Dante glanced up casually—
and immediately had to hide a smile.
The t-shirt absolutely swallowed her.
The dark fabric hung almost to her knees while the sleeves covered half her hands. On him it fit normally.
On her?
Basically a dress.
Jenn walked over holding the basketball shorts.
“I don’t need these.”
Dante looked at the shirt again.
Then at her.
“Yeah, no kidding.”
Jenn looked down at herself.
“It’s comfortable.”
“It’s a tarp.”
That earned him a tired little laugh.
And something about hearing her laugh now—
without stress,
without panic,
without frustration—
felt weirdly satisfying.
Dante tossed them beside him on the couch.
“You want water?”
“Actually, yes.”
He stood and grabbed a glass from the kitchen before filling it from the sink.
Jenn took it with both hands and drank almost the entire thing immediately.
Dante watched her quietly for a second.
Right.
She’d been stranded for hours.
In a freezing car.
Alone.
And he’d spent most of that time acting like she ruined his evening.
A tiny wave of guilt hit him square in the chest.
Annoying.
Dante opened the pizza box sitting on the counter.
“I got pizza too.”
Jenn looked up instantly.
“Seriously?”
“Don’t sound so excited. It’s cold.”
“I could eat drywall right now.”
That got another laugh out of him.
Dante handed her two slices and watched as she immediately started eating like she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now.
Again—
more guilt.
Fantastic.
Now he felt like he neglected a stray kitten.
Jenn sat carefully at one end of the couch while scrolling through her phone between bites.
Still no signal.
Dante sat in the chair across from her instead of beside her, giving her space.
The TV filled the silence for a minute before he finally spoke.
“I’m Dante, by the way.”
Jenn glanced up.
“Jen.”
“So you do work at the hospital.”
“Yeah.”
“Nurse?”
Jenn shook her head.
“Respiratory therapist.”
Dante frowned slightly.
“What’s that?”
Jenn swallowed her bite before answering.
“I work with breathing treatments. ICU and NICU Ventilators. Airway management stuff.”
Dante blinked once.
“…That sounds stressful.”
Jenn laughed quietly.
“It is.”
For a second, he just watched her.
She looked completely different cleaned up.
Still exhausted.
Still visibly drained.
But softer somehow.
The oversized shirt kept slipping slightly off one shoulder while damp hair framed her face from the shower steam.
Cute.
Very cute.
Dante immediately looked away and grabbed his water bottle again.
Not his business.
Meanwhile Jenn was trying VERY hard not to stare too obviously herself.
Because now that he wasn’t covered in grease and irritation—
The mechanic was unfairly attractive.
Broad shoulders stretched beneath the gray shirt.
Strong veiny forearms marked with faded scrapes and old scars.
Silver hair falling messily around blue eyes that somehow looked calmer now than before.
And annoyingly enough?
He smelled really good.
Not cologne.
Just clean soap and laundry detergent.
Jenn mentally bullied herself immediately.
Absolutely not.
Dante leaned back slightly in the chair.
“You from around here?”
Jenn shook her head.
“Travel contract.”
“How long?”
“Two months.”
Dante whistled softly.
“Mountain town for two months? Damn. They must be payin’ you good.”
Jenn smiled faintly.
“You’d be surprised.”
The rain continued outside.
The TV kept talking quietly in the background.
And somewhere between cold pizza, oversized clothes, and exhaustion—
The atmosphere between them slowly started becoming something else.
Jenn curled one leg underneath herself on the couch while holding the pizza plate carefully against the oversized shirt.
Rain continued tapping steadily against the apartment windows.
The atmosphere felt quieter now.
Softer.
Jenn glanced around the apartment again.
“So you live here alone?”
“Yeah.”
“No wife?”
A beat.
“Girlfriend in another state?”
Dante nodded seriously.
“Yeah. All of ’em.”
Jenn blinked.
“…All of them?”
“Whole collection.”
That finally got a laugh out of her.
“Wow. Wouldn’t they be offended if you brought another woman home?”
Dante took a drink of water before answering.
“Nah. We communicate.”
Jenn narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“You’re lying.”
“Little bit.”
She smiled into the pizza slice.
Dante shrugged.
“Don’t got any of that.”
Jenn looked around the apartment again.
“Yeah, I figured.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You live in the middle of nowhere fixing motorcycles.”
“Exactly.”
Jenn laughed softly again.
Dante watched her for a second before gesturing vaguely toward her.
“What about you?”
Jenn nodded immediately.
“Oh yeah. Two husbands. Four kids.”
Dante raised an eyebrow.
Jenn continued completely straight-faced:
“Three baby daddies. Whole situation’s a mess.”
Dante snorted into his water bottle.
“Sounds expensive.”
“It is.”
Then she smiled faintly and shook her head.
“No. I don’t have anybody.”
Dante nodded once.
Didn’t pry.
Jenn looked down at the pizza crust in her hand.
“Honestly if I had a boyfriend, I probably would’ve been on the phone crying to him this entire night.”
“Mm.” Dante leaned back slightly. “Sounds about right.”
A small silence settled comfortably between them.
Not awkward anymore.
Just late-night quiet.
Jenn looked toward him again after a second.
“Thanks, by the way.”
Dante frowned slightly.
“For what?”
“This.”
She gestured vaguely around the apartment.
“The pizza. Not letting me die in a sedan.”
Dante scoffed quietly.
“Yeah, well.”
He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck before muttering:
“You looked like a stray cat.”
Jenn stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“You know.”
He gestured vaguely.
“Wet. Angry. Hissin’ at people.”
Jenn gasped softly.
“I was not hissing.”
Dante looked directly at her.
“I barely tapped on your window and you screamed like a cat being stepped on.”
“You BANGED on my window in the middle of the night!”
“yeah yeah.”
Jenn shook her head laughing quietly to herself.
Then her eyes drifted toward the shelf near the TV.
CDs.
Vinyls.
Band stickers.
“You listen to all this?”
Dante followed her gaze.
“Most of it.”
Jenn stood slowly and walked closer toward the shelf.
“No way.”
She picked up one of the albums.
“You listen to Pantera?”
Dante looked offended.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just seem like…” She glanced at him vaguely. “I dunno. Motorcycle guy music.”
“That is motorcycle guy music.”
Jenn laughed again.
“Fair point.”
She continued scanning the shelf.
Metallica.
Black Sabbath.
Slipknot.
Alice in Chains.
Dante watched her with quiet amusement.
“What, surprised I got good taste?”
“Little bit.”
“Rude.”
Jenn glanced back toward him.
“How old are you anyway?”
“Thirty.”
Jenn blinked.
“Seriously?”
“What’s wrong with thirty?”
“Nothing, I just thought you were older when you were yelling at me downstairs.”
Dante pointed at her.
“You earned that.”
Jenn grinned.
“I’m twenty-nine.”
“Damn.”
“What?”
“You’re old too.”
Jenn looked genuinely offended.
“Excuse you.”
Dante smirked slightly for the first time all night.
Small.
Quick.
Still devastating.
Jenn immediately looked away before her brain could make that weird.
“My birthday’s next week actually,” she muttered casually.
“Cool.”
Jenn stared at him.
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to do, Shortcake? Buy you a motorcycle?”
Jenn thought about it seriously for half a second.
“Actually yes.”
Dante laughed quietly.
“Absolutely not.”
The conversation had softened enough that the silence between them no longer felt awkward.
Rain hammered steadily against the windows while the TV murmured low in the background.
Jenn sat curled into the corner of the couch wearing Dante’s oversized shirt while he leaned back in the chair across from her, one arm resting lazily over the side.
“So why motorcycles?” Jenn asked quietly.
Dante shrugged.
“Less annoying than people.”
“Thats your answer?”
‘That's the answer you’re getting.”
A small silence settled again.
Comfortable this time.
Then suddenly—
Everything went black.
The TV shut off.
The heater clicked dead.
The apartment dropped into silence.
Jenn straightened immediately.
“Oh.”
“Relax,” Dante said from somewhere in the dark. “Power goes out all the time.”
A second later, dim emergency lights flickered on near the kitchen.
Low amber lighting spilled softly across the apartment.
Jenn looked around slowly.
Middle of nowhere.
Thunderstorm.
No signal.
No power.
In a stranger's house who owns a whole lotta' heavy tools.
Fantastic.
Either she’d wake up tomorrow laughing about this—
or end up buried somewhere in the mountains.
Honestly there was no in-between.
Meanwhile Dante rubbed the back of his neck once.
The emergency lighting suddenly made the apartment feel painfully small.
Cheap.
Normally he didn’t care.
But now he was aware of every little thing:
- the old furniture
- the mismatched shelves
- the TV balanced on milk crates
- the flickering lights
Jenn worked hospital contracts.
Probably had a real apartment somewhere.
A normal life.
Dante just cleared his throat and stood.
“Anyway. I’m gonna sleep.”
Jenn nodded quickly.
“Yeah, of course.”
She stood too, immediately eyeing the couch with concern.
Then:
“Uh… do you think we could move the coffee table?”
Dante frowned.
“Why?”
Jenn pointed toward the couch.
“My back’s gonna hate me if I sleep on that thing.”
“You’re twenty-nine.”
“And my spine’s eighty.”
That got a quiet laugh out of him.
Jenn rubbed awkwardly at one of her cold hands.
“I’ll just sleep on the floor or something.”
Dante stared at her.
Then at the floor.
“Shortcake, I haven’t mopped that floor in weeks.”
Jenn looked horrified.
“That is deeply upsetting information.”
“Exactly.”
She shrugged tiredly.
“I’ll survive.”
Dante watched her for a second longer now.
The fidgeting.
The way she kept rubbing warmth into her hands.
The slight tension still sitting in her shoulders no matter how much she joked.
She was nervous.
Trying not to show it.
But nervous.
And honestly?
Fair enough.
Dante sighed quietly through his nose.
“I got a bed.”
Jenn looked up immediately.
“No, that’s okay.”
“It’s a queen.”
“That somehow made it worse.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Dante dragged one hand down his face.
Clearly exhausted.
“I’ll put pillows between us. Build a wall. Whatever makes you stop lookin’ like a hostage.”
Jenn laughed despite herself.
Small.
Tired.
Still nervous though.
Dante pointed toward the hallway.
“C’mon.”
Jenn hesitated another second before finally following him toward the bedroom.