“Leave it.” I swallow, embarrassed. “It feels good.”
His body relaxes. I feel him settling back down on the bed, and my body rollscloserintohim.
I lie still, taking in the warmth surrounding me as I stare at a black dot on the ceiling of the tent. A gentle snoring comes from the corner.
A nice, woodsy smell tickles my nose, and I inhale deeply.
“You okay?” His voice sounds scratchy, like he wants to cough but is scared to move.
“I am. I’m more than okay,” I tell him. My voice is no more than a whisper.
His chest puffs out, and I want to smile. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
“Okay.”
His bicep under my head is hard as stone, but it’s better than any pillow I could have imagined. I get a little braver and turn my head toward him and take a deep breath, inhaling his scent.
A low rumble comes from his chest. “Are you sniffing me?”
“Sue me,” I answer and inhale again. “You smell like wood.”
He chokes and starts laughing. Our whole bed shakes. “I actually might have some.”
There, just for a second, my gaze dips down his body, and I see he might be right. There is some nice wood in the house. Like quite a lot. His pants are thick, but they can’t contain whatever is happening, and a big bulge has formed. How big is he? With a man of his size, he must have a whole weapon in his pants, like a police baton.
I close my eyes, expecting to freak myself out and him along with me, but instead, a steady warmth spreads across my chest, and I feel my cheeks turning hot.
He clears his throat. “Sorry, bad joke.”
“A good one, actually.” I chuckle and completely move my body to lie on my side, growing braver by the second. He’s safe. He’s made me feel safe. The front of my body is flush against his side, my head resting on his bicep.
His body goes iron stiff, and he’s not breathing. He takes a deep, trembling breath, and wraps his arm around my shoulders, pressing me to himself.
A comfortable silence settles around us as I snuggle closer and bring my arm around his torso.
I’m about to cuddle against him more when he ruins everything with question. “Where is he, Alicia?”
My body goes rigid, and the coziness evaporates along with the calmness.
“I know you don’t want to talk about him, but I have to know.” There’s a pause. “Please.”
“Why? Why do you need to know?” I push myself away from him, but his grip is firm on my back, and my attempt turns fruitless. In any other situation, I’d be a crying, wiggling mess, but his insanely strong hands holding me firmly to his body don’t freak me out.
“I have to, Alicia.” His voice turns grave. “I have to.”
My breathing is quick and shallow. I want to punch him in his handsome face and scratch his wide chest with my nails. My eyes are full of unshed tears, and I want to punish him for causing them. Haven’t I had enough? But instead of ruining him, I find myself speaking. “I don’t know where they are. I don’t even know who they are.”
“They?” His words thunder through our close quarters, causing Ghost to jump up and growl. He probably caused an avalanche somewhere further in the mountains, I’m sure. “How many of them were there, Alicia?”
My body catches up to my brain, and I begin shaking. Trying to remove myself from his grip, I try to push away, and this time he lets me. In the process of pulling away, I land on the floor on my ass. Ghost is with me in a second, poking his wet nose to my cheek.
Mark sits up and tries to scoot away, moving the light bed in a process. But he really can’t. There’s not enough space for the two of us on the floor since the bed is taking up so much space. “Fuck, Alicia. I’m sorry. I know I can’t yell, but I just fucking can’t.”
He gets off the bed, barely fitting in the narrow space, puts his boots on, and climbs out of the tent. Ghost whines, looking after his dad, but stays with me. He lies on the floor next to me, his head on my lap. I rub his ears, hoping to calm myself down.
For a second there, I thought I was cured. Ha. A joke.
A few minutes later, Mark climbs back inside. His hair is covered in snow, his cheeks are red, and his eyes are crazed. He’s still breathing like an enraged bull. In fact, I can see puffs of air coming out of his nose and mouth. It’s that cold. He stormed out without a jacket, and I bet he’s cold. I focus on his red cheeks instead of his eyes. I’m scared of the things I can read in there. I’ve seen enough pity to last me a lifetime.
