On the Way to the Cabin

by Amabel Daniels

  She chewed on the corner of her lower lip, unsure where his taunting reply was heading.

  “When? How?” He rocked forward in his seat now, leaning over the table to her. “You mean to tell me, you were scared to tell me something? You, as in the girl who never fails to speak her mind, one way or another?”

  She had no reply.

  “Scared of what?”

  “Of…” She took a deep breath. He wasn’t goading her, she knew. They were that kind of a pair of friends. Always shooting straight with each other. “Of you not feeling the same way. Of you rejecting me.”

  A grim slant of his brows marred his easygoing face as he reached out to grip her hand. He halted halfway across the laminated wood, seeming to think better of making contact.

  Her soul shriveled at his hesitation.

  Yeah. No happy I love you, too is coming anytime soon.

  Digging her teeth into her lip a little harder, to make sure he couldn’t see a tremble, she brought her hands off the table and into her lap. His blue-eyed stare tracked her movement and he frowned deeper.

  “Lena, I could never reject you. You…belong in my life. You always have.” His throat jumped as he swallowed, as though he was nervous.

  Well, she was putting him on the spot. Blinking quickly to stay the impending heartache, she nodded. I always have belonged in his life? That spoke volumes. She had, in a way. He wasn’t wrong. Lena had been in Aaron’s life—as a friend. Only a friend, or the best bud of his baby sister.

  Never “his girl.”

  “I—”

  “And here’s that bacon cheeseburger and fries, mister,” the server announced, interrupting their moment. “And a BLT and sweet potatoes for you, miss.”

  Plates with steaming food slid onto the battleground space of hold-hands-or-not. Thankful for the distraction, Lena checked over her order.

  “Anything else I can get you two? I’ll pop by with refills on the teas.”

  “I think we’re good,” Aaron answered.

  He must have been equally relieved for the intermission of their stilted chat or he was even more famished than she was. Aaron dug in, and she didn’t dally either.

  Eating saved her from having to speak any more difficult words, but she still wanted more. To know how he could reassure her that he’d never cast her away but still seem so dejected at saying so. To know what he was going to finish admitting before the food came. While he acted like he was troubled, he spoke only positively.

  “Do you think you can keep driving?” she asked after their plates were taken away and the check was left on the table. He snatched it away too quickly, earning her stern stink eye.

  Gentleman. She held back a snort. Old-fashioned, more like. She wasn’t rich managing the rink, but she made do.

  “Yeah. I don’t mind.”

  While her hangover was in the past, she was certainly too distracted to concentrate on finishing the trip to the cabin. Especially not—she noted as they exited the restaurant and stepped into the blustery blizzard—in these conditions.

  “Come on!” he yelled, taking her hand in his. “We’ll run for it.”

  He took off, jogging in his long-legged stride while she dashed after him. They slipped once, but they both made it to the SUV. Out of breath and with chilled faces, they climbed in and shivered in silence.

  Aaron started the car, but even the noise of the navigation system beeping awake and the scraping drag of the wipers couldn’t banish this horrible awkwardness between them. Winds gusted and hollered outside, but she didn’t sense comfort inside the warming-up SUV. Just confinement with a mess of feelings.

  Which is all my fault. I broke what we had, our friendship. The allure of even getting to the cabin and hanging out faded. With Justin there, she’d be stuck spending time with Aaron rather than Molly. The more he didn’t speak, the more she wanted distance to lick her wounds and compartmentalize his, well, his rejection.

  But, it’s too late to turn around now. She winced as Aaron maneuvered the car back onto the highway, her winter tires spinning a little despite his tempered speed. It was yucky enough that she wondered if they would get to their destination tonight. Having passed the exit with the eatery they’d dined at, there wasn’t much to consider. No convenient motels out this far, no trusted places to stop over as they climbed further into the woods and unforgiving snowstorm.

  “Is there any way we can just erase last night?” she asked, frustrated at herself. Life was sucky and lonely before she’d told him anything, but now it was awful.

  “Turn back time, you mean?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I doubt it. It’d be like the red dot on the cashmere sweater. What you said…it’s out there.”

  She pressed her lips together. True. I just had to open my big mouth. “I don’t want us to be like this.” Facing his serious profile as he concentrated on the road, she gestured at the space between them. “You know?”

  He opened his mouth but she rushed on.

  “I never meant to make things weird between us. That’s another reason I could never find the right time or place to tell you how I felt. Because we’re good together—as friends! Right? And if anything more was a one-sided deal, which it is, then—”

  “Who said anything about being one-sided?”

  Her jaw dropped but she quickly snapped her mouth shut. “You…?”

  He shook his head and pressed for the windshield wipers to go faster. They were already at max speed. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You’ve haven’t really said anything.”

  “Kinda busy paying attention to keeping us on the road right now.”

  At maybe twenty miles an hour. Lena pivoted in her seat, facing the darkening sky. Nightfall was about an hour and a half away, but clouds shrouded the sky and the just wouldn’t stop. “Maybe we shouldn’t even be on it anymore.”

  “As soon as we see an exit, we’ll pull over.” He sighed as he crouched forward toward the steering wheel, maintaining his focus on the drive.

  “There won’t be, not before the cabin.” They’d entered the last stretch of the highway that would ultimately bring them to the side road. From there, it was a winding driveway up to the cabin in the woods. “Unless we go back and detour to another highway.”

  “Then…I guess we keep trudging along.”

  Why does that have to sound so metaphorical to us?

  She turned to check the backseat and began to run away with another idea. “Or…”

  “What?”

  “Mom asked me to buy a space heater for the check-in desk at the rink. One of the girls was complaining about her feet freezing.” She couldn’t stop a laugh. “I mean, it is an ice skating rink.”

  He glanced at her. “Okay…”

  “I haven’t dropped it off at work yet.” She jerked a thumb to the rear of the vehicle. “It’s back there and I have an adapter plug.”

  “You mean to camp in here?”

  She shrugged. “The back seats recline. And I always have lots of blankets and stuff.”

  “Seriously?” His counter was one of doubt, like will that really work? instead of alarm at being trapped with her any longer.

  “Unless you want to keep your death grip on that steering wheel for the next however many hours, yeah. Why not?”

  He raked one hand through his spiky blond mess. His tell for debating and strategizing. After a moment, the wind worsened and Lena couldn’t even see the road anymore.

  “As soon as I find a spot to pull over,” he decided.

  She relaxed that he was in agreement. Lena wasn’t a granny driver like Aaron could be, but she felt instantly better about not cracking her knuckles during a suspenseful ride in what was probably a snow emergency. Despite her history, being in such a horrible car accident, she wasn’t usually edgy in the car. Mom had insisted on PTSD therapy when she’d acted hesitant about being in cars after Todd crashed. It paid off, and with her just learning how to drive and get her license once she w
as recovered, she’d taken that bull by the horns and was determined to be a confident and smart driver. Hence her Bluetooth, voice-to-command options, and control panel buttons on her steering wheel. She knew better than to drive distracted, and the scene outside was nothing but one.

  Cooped up in her car with Aaron wasn’t ideal, but she was guaranteed of one thing. As soon as they found a “campsite” and set up for the night, neither of them could escape.

  And it was past time to hedge questions. He had some explaining to do, no matter how painful it would be to hear the guillotine falling on her hope for love.

  Chapter Six

  As far as spontaneous plans went, Lena’s idea wasn’t shabby. In fact, it was brilliant. She always was one to think outside the box.

  He hadn’t wanted to spend another second driving when visibility was virtually nonexistent. His only argument to her proposal of camping in the car was that they’d be stuck together. Even more intimately close than they were the night before. While he loathed the semi-long distance between them, it made time spent with her—only her—that much more of a prized reward.

  Except, this time, he knew he’d have to explain himself to her after she’d poured her heart to him last night.

  And I will have no help from booze. He’d have to be an unobservant fool to miss her expectations. She was waiting for him to reply to her declaration of love. What he’d clumsily started and failed to say at the restaurant was just another play of beating around the bush. Giving her his truth, the raw honesty of how he felt about her was just too…hard. He wasn’t ready to make her hate him.

  Yet, his reluctance to explain his guilt wasn’t worth risking the drive. So within the hour, he’d parked well off the wooded road—thank God for four-wheel drive—and they worked together, nesting in the back of the SUV. Once the seats were laid flat, there was quite a bit of room. Plenty of space for them to both stretch out, lots of blankets—because Lena was a little obsessed with patterned throws, and more than enough warmth from the compact space heater.

  Lena’s phone had died and was charging, so he reclined in the back and texted Molly.

  It took a minute for Lena to expose the first hiccup with their plan to sleep in the car off the road.

  “I have to go,” she whined, almost bouncing in her seat. “I drank too much tea.”

  Aaron chuckled, because that was the only thing they were lacking, if he had to be honest—a bathroom. Living in the city cramped his love for the outdoors. He’d always enjoyed going to the cabin and other camping trips. Spending the night in here like this…he was mostly looking forward to it. If only he and Lena hadn’t come to a relationship crossroads.

  “Sucks to be you,” he teased.

  She swatted at his shoulder. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have your turn soon enough.”

  He wasn’t above peeing in a bottle—if he were alone.

  “Want my help?” he offered as she tugged her enormous, voluminous coat on.

  “To pee?” She smirked. “I’ll survive.”

  He never had any doubt she could. Besides, what could he do? Hold up a blanket to block her from the snow watching? They were alone out here.

  Cold gusts shot in as she opened the passenger door. She darted out quickly, letting out a squeal of “It’s freeeezing!”

  As he waited for her to return, Molly texted back a nagging reply to be safe for the night. One minute turned into two, and—

  “Dammit.”

  Now he had to go. She’d rubbed off on him, putting the idea in his head.

  With another unwelcome burst of frigid air, she bundled into the car. “My butt is frozen.”

  He grunted as he grabbed his coat. “Yeah, well, now I gotta go. Spare me the frozen anatomy complaints, huh?”

  Her sassy laugh charmed him, spreading warmth into his chest and cracking a smile on his grouchy face. When he was outside and taking a leak, though, he thoroughly loathed their bathroom arrangement.

  Therefore, missing the cozy warmth, he was in too much of a rush to get back inside, shivering too hard to be coordinated. He slammed the door shut and turned in a crouch. Lena hadn’t lain down yet, though, and he barreled into her, knocking them both down.

  Snow flew off of him and dusted her as she landed beneath him. With her smaller frame pressed against his, he was reminded again of how fine and dainty she could be. So much softer, curvier, and warm.

  He raised his face from hers and lost himself in her eyes. Surprise, some amusement maybe, and then the clouding over to confusion. She stared back at him and he struggled to remember why he had to move away from her full-body embrace. Why he couldn’t, for once in his life, show her exactly what he wanted. In their collision, she’d wrapped her arms around his chest, snaring his hard chest to her soft breast, racing heart to racing heart. The pull to kiss her and never let go warred between his mind and heart. Thinking or feeling. Logic or emotion. He was stuck between them.

  It wasn’t the first time they’d ever hugged, but it was likely the only time he’d pressed her to the floor beneath him, even by accident. And feeling the exquisite perfection of her firm, lush body against him had him near breaking point.

  It was, however, a helluva lot of tempting physical contact too soon after her declaration of love. That thing he knew they needed to talk about. He refused to take advantage or play games.

  “Aaron?” she asked. Her arms lowered from his back and he hated the loss.

  “Sorry about that. I lost my footing.” He eased off of her and crawled over to his half of the “bed.”

  As he took his coat off, he felt her stare boring into the back of his head. She had to have seen the desire he’d barely held on to.

  He slumped to the blanket nest, next to her but not touching. That was too risky. Because as quickly as his dick had become damn-near a popsicle outside, it had speedily thawed out and then some. Lying on top of Lena had him adjusting the waistband of his jeans.

  “Aaron?” she tried again.

  He rolled his head until he faced her. “Hmm?”

  “How are”—she flicked her finger back and forth between them—“our feelings not one-sided?”

  She just has to start with the big ones. He watched her lick her lips and sit up to face him.

  She scooted closer, likely ensuring he wouldn’t hem-haw around answering. “Do you mean as friends? We’re each other’s friend, and always have been?”

  Friendship was just the tip of the iceberg. “Yes.” Now he pushed to sit up. If he was going to explain himself, he didn’t want to be lounging. This was a serious matter of the heart. She deserved his full attention. “And no.”

  She rolled her hand for him to go on. “It’s just… Since I’ve put myself out there and all. Could you elaborate, please?” Then she lowered her gaze for a moment, a break in her confidence.

  He hated the shy plea in her tone. The wistfulness that lingered in her eyes.

  “Of course we’ve always been friends. But…” He whooshed out a deep breath. Goddammit, this isn’t easy. Because as soon as he admitted how much she mattered to him, she would reject him. “But I also can’t remember a day that I wasn’t in love with you.”

  She slumped back, as though he’d truly knocked her on her ass with that news. Blinking quickly, then squinting at him as she likely tried to compute what he’d said, he waited. Her lips parted, but then shut, no words coming out. Only a choked laugh, like she was doubting what she’d heard.

  Yeah, now you know how I felt listening to you last night.

  “I’m not…following,” she murmured, rubbing at her cheek. “I… Well—what?”

  “I fell in love with you in sixth grade.”

  She slanted her head to the side and quirked a brow. “Really.” It wasn’t a question but a mocking quip of disbelief.

  “You—we—were so young, though. And even as I got older, you were still always so much younger than me. But once we were in high school, it kind of leveled the playing field.”
r />   She licked her lips and shook her head. “But you never said anything.”

  “I…” He heaved a sigh. “To take a page from your book, I was nervous. That maybe we were too much of friends for you to ever look at me differently. And then you decided to go to that dance with Todd…”

  In a burst of movement, she rocked back and slapped her hand to the flat seat she sat on. “Just to be able to go to the dance!”

  “But then you guys stuck together.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Barely. For maybe a few days.”

  “A week and a half.”

  Her smirk was sweet. “Then what stopped you from saying anything after Todd and I were done?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I broke you guys up. And…” He clenched his eyes shut for a second, abhorring that the time had come to face the guilt he’d carried for so long. “And I nearly broke you.”

  Her face crumpled as she gaped at him. “What? Is that an analogy for something, or…?”

  “That accident, when Todd crashed.”

  “Yeah? What about it? How does that have anything to do with you not being able to give me a heads up you liked me?”

  “Loved, Lena, not liked. This wasn’t some silly crush.”

  She nodded slightly, closing her mouth again.

  “You guys stopped going out after that accident.”

  Waving one hand at him, she adjusted to sit more upright, bringing her even closer. “Not really. We’d been talking about breaking up when he’d picked me up that day.”

  “Oh.”

  “And when I was in the hospital and rehab, it wasn’t like anyone had time to see me.” She lowered her face, gazing at him from under hooded lids. “Except…” Her voice quietened and softened. “Except for you.”

  He took her hand, hating that they were reliving her trauma in any way. The fact she squeezed his fingers in return gave him the strength to continue. “Of course I came to see you. It was all my fault.”

  Even though she kept her hand in his, he felt her jerk in surprise. “How in the heck was anything your fault. It was pretty clear. Todd was texting and crashed at the intersection. He admitted it. Eyewitnesses confirmed it…”