“No, no, I’m free,” I manage. “It’s pretty late over there, am I keeping you up?”
He waves me off. “Nah. My parents are outside with the fire and it’s only me in here. How’s the cottage?”
“It’s sick,” I say. “Want a tour?”
He nods, and I flip the camera around to show Erik the living area, the kitchen, and the deck before heading to the stairs.
“There’s anupstairs?” he asks.
“Yeah, that’s where my room is.”
“I still can’t believe what passes for a cottage in Canada.”
Walking up the stairs, I let out a noise of protest. “You don’t understand, Erik. The difference between a cottage and a house is the vibes, not the construction.”
“And what vibes are those?”
I enter my room and flop down on the bed. “Rustic, nature-y shit.”
“Eloquently put. Also, I don’t know if that massive bed counts as ‘nature-y shit.’”
Dear god, Erik’s deep, sassy voice shouldn’t do things to me, but my body doesn’t get the message.
“Oh yeah? How would you define it?”
He turns the camera around. “This is what I think of as rustic vibes.”
He’s got me there. The cottage that Erik is staying at isn’t a one-room shack, but it’s definitely got a cabin feel to it. The walls are wood, and the first word that comes to mind is cozy.
Then again, Erik could make a cheap tent in a thunderstorm feel cozy. The heat isn’t as strong upstairs, and out of nowhere, I’m craving a warm, addictive Erik hug. I wrap myself in my blanket and cling hopelessly to the inconvenient memory of how comfortable his arms felt around me.
“Luke? You there?” My attention goes back to the screen.
“Yup, sorry. I’m a little cold.”
Erik’s response is to pull up a fluffy gray blanket with moose on it. The hunky burrito makes a comeback, and it still sends tender pangs throughout my chest.
“There, now we’re matching.” His smile is triumphant.
“Oh my god, this is so weird,” I say, and Erik’s eyes crinkle.
“Why is it weird?”
Because we’re covered in blankets and giggling with each other over a video call like the long-distance lovers my mom thinks we are? Because I still like you and I’m a hopeless idiot?
“Uh, I don’t know, I don’t tend to call my friends from bed,” I lie. That was pathetic.
“Well, now it won’t be weird to do it again.”
I snort. “Okay, you said it. I’m only going to call you right as you’re about to fall asleep.”
“You remember that I sleep almost naked, don’t you?” he says, and there’s no way he’s trying to be suggestive about that. Right?
Feeling bold, I decide to test the waters. “Ooh, sexy.”
Erik scoffs. “Yeah right, Luke. There’s nothing sexy about sleeping under ten blankets. This country is frigid as hell.”
Curling up under ten blankets with Erik sounds incredibly sexy, no matter how cold it is outside.
