I hop on the snowmobile and drive to her car which is already covered in a decent layer of white flakes. Seeing the bent passenger side again, my heart starts beating faster, anxiety settling in the pit of my stomach. What if something had happened to her because I kicked her out? Well, I didn’t technically kick her out, but I wasn’t welcoming either, knowing well enough that the roads got bad. It just wasn’t an issue to me—I was never scared to slide off the road in some mountain and never be found. But when I imagine her at the bottom down there, I nearly get a panic attack. Even this little fender-bender could have ended up badly with her getting serious injuries. And how would I get her to the hospital? On a snowmobile all the way down there? I’d get a chopper, perhaps. But I’d need to drive to where reception is stronger, meaning I’d have to leave her alone. What if she got worse during this time? What if she needed my help and I wasn’t there? What if I fell off the road while she was waiting for me here, injured and in pain, and no one would ever know she needed help?
The overwhelming scenarios let my anxiety tightly squeeze my chest, so I get off the snowmobile and bend over, resting my hands on my knees to try to catch my breath. After a few deepinhales, I manage to get a grip on myself and walk to her car. Her duffel bag is pretty full; I assume she probably considered staying here for a few days. Why would such a young and beautiful woman like her want to be stuck alone in a tiny cabin in the woods for the New Year?
I take the keys from her car and secure her duffel bag and her purse on the snowmobile behind me. On the drive back, I wonder what I’m going to say to her and how we are going to survive these next couple of days.
I also wonder how I can sneak inside the bathroom without her seeing the wet spot on my pants, now fucking frozen from the cold. I was so eager to run away that I didn’t even take care of it while I was inside the warm house with a bathroom nearby.
But then it dawns on me…with all this commotion, I chose to ignore the fact that I was able to come without inflicting any level of pain on myself. I was just…there, watching her. And that was enough.
I shake my head, trying to get rid of the image of her red hair falling behind her back as her mouth opens in pure ecstasy.
I try to erase it because I have no business thinking about her that way. She’s nearly a decade younger. She’s way too pure for me. She’s my best friend’s sister. She’s bright and colorful, whereas I’m only one shade of boring gray. She really doesn’t know what kind of freak I am. And she’s wrong saying I am not.
Because I’m the worst of them all.
A loud mew right on cue proves my point. I look into the woods and find Midnight sitting by a bush and looking at me, his eyes accusing. His head tilts a little before he gets up, turns away, and walks back into the woods, angrily flicking his tail on his way. Great, somehow I managed to offend the cat too.
Chapter Thirteen
LEILA
Crap. Crappy crap!
I think as I run around the place, trying to come up with a way to get out of here. There is no way I can stay in this shoebox withhimsleeping next to me. I just freaking humped his leg! How embarrassing is that? Now he clearly knows how I feel about him, and that’s a whole lot of feelings overwhelming me at the same time. I’m usually very good with suppressing my emotions and letting logic rule me, but when he’s around, it’s like my nervous system goes haywire and completely out of control.
I provoked him one hundred percent, making us both uncomfortable. We’re stuck here together, in this awkwardness,because I couldn’t control my emotions and keep my big mouth shut. Just great. I was looking for a quick escape from my big problems, but it feels like I’ve got even bigger ones here. No-o-o, I didn’tgetthat; I brought it on myself. And I don’t even have anything to say in my defense—the moment his face turned ferocious, I knew I was a goner. I wanted to see what his experienced hands—and mouth—could do to me, and he was so close to becoming unhinged. I saw that. Ifeltthat.
With every angry word falling from his mouth, I yearned to inch closer and feel his sheer, unrestrained power. I yearned to feel his anger directed at me. I wanted to feel how far his emotions could bring him, because he was absolutely right: everyone loves him.Archie this, Archie that, he did this, he did that.He’s always all flirty smiles and lopsided grins. But not with me, no. I get angry stares, flared nostrils, and a heavy stare from under his thick lashes as if I’m his biggest enemy. So, I just snapped…and wanted him to snap too.
When I felt those waves of thereal him, I just acted.Stupid, stupid, stupid Leila!I sit in the chair and grab my head in my hands.Stupid Leila!
The engine of the snowmobile outside tells me he’s back. I nervously look around as if I’ll run away through the window or something. Nope, I can’t. We’re truly stuck here.
A moment later, he comes back inside and drops my bag and my purse on the floor by the door.
“I grabbed them both. I didn’t know if you need the little bag,” he says, avoiding my eyes.
“I do, thank you,” I answer politely, and he just nods.
I rise from the chair—and not very gracefully since I lose my footing and nearly fall back.
He looks around, clears his throat, and finally faces me.Oh-oh, this can’t be good.
“Look, Leila. I’m sorry, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have let it go that far.” His voice is full of remorse, his face a picture of self-loathing.
“Stop it right there.” I can see the desire to argue flash across his face, so I raise my hand to stop him. “I was there too, and I was the one to make the first move. It was consensual.” I pause, brows furrowing. “I hope.” I add since I was the one who pretty much forced him into our unfinished coitus. Such a shame; I wouldn’t mind going further.
“I’m older and should have—” he continues, berating himself, oblivious to my words. I want to growl so he can snap out of this state he’s in.
“Oh, shush.” I wave my hand at him, and his brows jump. I have a younger brother, and yet everyone treats me like the child of the family. I hate it. “I made the first move, and we leave it there. It was no one’s fault; let’s move on.”
He leans against the wall and crosses his big arms over his chest. He looks positively curious about what will come out of my mouth next.
“I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but to survive, we need to forget this,” I point at him and then myself, “ever happened. Do you agree?”
He nods.
“Great,” I sigh in relief. “Also, thank you for letting me stay here.”
