by Nikki Chase
“Yeah,” I lie. “It was a nice coincidence.”
I can’t tell if it’s the lying or the knowledge that Eli is watching me lie to my mom, but something tingles in the back of my neck and spreads up across my face, filling my cheeks with color.
It’s silly, I know. Eli probably can’t tell I’m lying anyway.
“Whose cabin is it? I’ll have to thank them in some way. Maybe give them free coffee for a year,” Mom says.
There it is. There’s no avoiding it now.
“It’s, uh, the Stromes’ cabin,” I say softly, feeling my cheeks grow even hotter.
The silence from the other end of the line makes my heart race.
“The Stromes’ cabin, huh?” Mom asks finally. “Who opened the door for you?”
“Elijah.” Just saying his name out loud makes me more anxious. “Angela’s brother, remember?”
“Yes, I remember the Stromes. Is Angela there?” she asks, clearly displeased.
“No, Mom. She’s living in the city now. I thought I told you.”
“Oh. Right. As long as she’s not there,” Mom says. “She’s always been a bad influence on you. I still remember how mean she was to you, how she made you cry.”
“Mom, I’m not fifteen anymore,” I remind her. I don’t really want to talk about those awkward, hellish years. “Anyway, I just called to tell you I’m safe and warm. I’ll come home as soon as the snow clears, okay?”
“Okay,” she says. “I’m just concerned. You quit your job in the city, and you’re hanging out with the Stromes. It just feels like you’re regressing or something.”
“Mom. I’ll come home as soon as the snow clears,” I repeat. If she wants to lecture me about my life decisions, she can do it in person when I get home.
I can’t stand the pressure of listening to her while Eli is watching anymore.
“Okay.” Mom sighs. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”
“Love you, too. See you soon.” When I hang up, I realize my heart rate has gone way up. I take a few deep breaths, keeping my gaze on the snow outside.
I can’t catch a break today.
The car breaking down. The snow storm. Eli kissing me. Mom lecturing me. And most alarmingly, me wanting to kiss Eli again.
Haven’t I learned my lesson? Being with Eli may feel good for a short moment, but it will only end in pain and heartbreak.
After what he did seven years ago, I can’t trust him anymore. I can’t let my guard down.
And yet, a part of me wants nothing more than to let Eli do his worst to me.
“Sounds like your mom was worried about you,” Eli says.
“Yeah. A little bit.” I don’t dare take my eyes off the view outside even though I’m no longer looking at anything in particular.
I hear Eli’s heavy footsteps, and I know he’s getting closer.
My whole body freezes up, much like the blades of grass outside, buried under the heft of something outside my control.
I want him close to me, so close his weight suffocates me, makes it hard for me to breathe. But, I’m older now and supposedly wiser.
“She shouldn’t,” Eli says. “Be worried about you, that is.”
“Yeah. I’m old enough to take care of myself,” I answer without looking at him.
He’s no good for me. I should know that by now.
I should walk away.
But, as Eli draws closer, my legs grow weaker.
A deep longing surges up from deep inside me. Like a little air bubble rising up from the bottom of the ocean, it grows stronger and faster the closer to the surface it gets. I should lock myself somewhere before it pops and creates a mess.
“Are you scared of me, princess?” Eli asks, stopping just a few inches behind me, judging by how close his voice sounds.
“No.” I laugh nervously.
“Why won’t you look at me?” he challenges.
“I . . . I’m tired.” Call it the cowardly way out; I don’t care. I can’t resist him—I know that. I shouldn’t stand so close to him. “It’s been a long day. I should rest, maybe take a nap in the bedroom.”
I turn around and try to side-step him, but he blocks my path.
“I won’t bite,” Eli says darkly. “I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”
“Of course,” I answer quickly, my eyes darting toward the bedroom door. It’s only a few feet away, but it feels like a mile.
“Good.” Eli steps aside and lets me through.
As I rush away from him, I feel the heat of his stare on my back, sending a thrill down my spine.
“Not unless you want me to,” he says under his breath.
I slip inside the bedroom and swiftly lock the door behind me.
He doesn’t scare me. Not really. I know he won’t hurt me.
I’m scared of myself.
My mind goes crazy when it concerns Eli. Like the thing with his phone call, when he said “I love you” to whoever’s at the other end of the line. After I’ve had some time to think about it, maybe that was nothing. He probably told me the truth about not having a wife or a girlfriend.
In all likelihood, that was Eli’s mom. I said the same thing before hanging up with my mom, too.
Eli makes me lose control in unexpected ways. If I let myself go, I’ll throw myself in his arms and under his rule. I’ll plead with him and beg him to hurt me.
And, I know he won’t even try to resist. Because it’ll be for nothing.
I wake up with my body trembling despite the thick blanket draped over me.
Squinting, I look around me.
I’m still in the cabin. It wasn’t a dream.
It’s dark outside. How long have I been asleep?
Grabbing my phone on the nightstand, I check the time. It’s three a.m.
I’m alone in this locked bedroom.
I wonder where Eli is sleeping. I didn’t see any bedroom downstairs although I didn’t exactly give Eli the opportunity to finish the tour before I ran up the stairs to avoid another kiss with him.
Jesus. I just kissed Eli Strome today.
I can’t believe I did that.
I didn’t think I’d ever talk to him again after what happened at the cupcake shop the other day. That feels like eons ago now.
And now, I’ll have to go outside and face him again. I can’t sleep here like this when it’s so cold my whole body is shaking.
Did Eli deliberately turn off the heat to force me out?
No, he wouldn’t do that . . . would he?
There’s only one way to find out. I’ll have to go out there and find out what’s going on.
I wrap the blanket around me. It’s heavy, but it’s too cold for me to leave it on the bed.
I make my way toward the door, the edges of the blanket dragging against the wooden floor planks. My heart pounds as I unlock the door.
I have no idea what’s going to happen when I see Eli. I had already decided not to let myself get carried away when I almost kissed him again for the second time.
Hopefully, I won’t mess things up again.
Well . . . Here I go.
Eli
This fucking couch . . .
It’s cushy enough, sure, but it’s way too short for my legs. I’ve been tossing and turning all night, trying to find a comfortable position to no avail.
To be fair, it’s not the couch’s fault.
Whenever I come here with Nicole, I sleep well enough in this couch. That’s why I’ve been putting off sectioning another room in the basement and making it a second bedroom.
Really, it’s Sophia’s fault.
I keep jerking awake, thinking she has come out of her bedroom. I hear noises but I’m sure it’s just my imagination.
Around dinner time, I knocked on the bedroom door, but I didn’t hear an answer. When I pressed my ear against the door to listen, all I heard was the regular rhythm of her breathing.
She could sleep. What’s wrong with me?
There it is aga
in. The click of the door being unlocked. Stop imagining things, man. No matter how much I fantasize about it, she won’t come out here naked and climb up on top of me like I want her to.
But God, I’d die happy if I get to experience that.
Actually, if I can make a dying wish, I want her to get between my legs and take my dick into her mouth. I can just imagine her tongue swirling over the head of my cock and her plump lips sliding up and down my shaft . . .
Man, my imagination just won’t stop. Now I’m hearing light footsteps and something dragging against the floor, like Sophia is shedding her clothes as she approaches me.
That won’t happen, though. She’s been staying the fuck away from me like she’s afraid of me.
Maybe I should’ve taken things more slowly. Perhaps I shouldn’t have tried to kiss her a second time.
But, what the fuck was I supposed to do when she leaned in toward me and closed her eyes?
That’s the stuff of my fantasies, right there. I couldn’t have just let the moment slip out of my hands. I’d kill myself—hell, I’d die of regret without ever having to pull a trigger.
Jesus, when will my hallucinations stop? The noises just won’t stop.
I should just rub one out. Maybe that’ll help me sleep.
But, what if Sophia comes out for real and sees me grabbing my own dick and jerking myself off?
Ah, fuck this.
I’ll get up and make myself a drink. I need to take a piss anyway.
I sit up and rub my eyes.
Is that . . . What the fuck is that, right by the fireplace? A pile of . . . clothes? No, a blanket.
I doubt I would’ve been dumb enough to place a flammable material right by an open fire without any supervision. I could wake up to a cabin on fire, which I guess would keep Sophia and me warm despite the snow storm, at least for a few hours.
With a grunt, I get up to inspect whatever it is. If it’s just a figment of my imagination, I’ll find out soon enough.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I hear Sophia say, clear as day.
I couldn’t have imagined that, could I?
Squinting at the bundle of blanket by the fireplace, I ask, “Sophia?”
“Yeah. Sorry,” she says. The blanket shifts on the ground until I finally see Sophia’s red hair highlighted by the flickering flame behind her and her beautiful face in the shadows.
“What are you doing up?”
That’s a stupid question, idiot, I scold myself in my head.
She’s been asleep for, what, six hours? She’s probably wide awake right now, even though it’s—I glance at the clock—three a.m.
“It’s too cold in the bedroom.” Sophia pauses. “Did you turn off the heat?”
“Of course not.” I glance at the closed bedroom door, reluctant to leave her now that she’s here. But, she’s looking at me expectantly, and I recognize the opportunity to solve her problem and become her hero. “Let me check.”
As expected, the bedroom is cold as a tomb. I inspect the windows but every single one of them is properly sealed.
When I leave the bedroom, I make sure to close the door behind me and seal the cold air inside.
“Sorry about that. I don’t know what happened,” I tell Sophia as I check the thermostat. “It shouldn’t have gotten that cold in there.”
“I thought maybe something broke,” she says softly.
Sophia remains calm and doesn’t blame me when something goes wrong. That’s one of the things I love about her and definitely something I missed when I tried seeing other girls.
“Why didn’t you wake me up? It can’t be comfortable, sleeping on the floor like that.”
“You underestimate how comfortable it is here. It’s warm, and the blanket is soft and cozy.” Sophia smiles. Her sleepy eyes make me want to snuggle next to her and lay her head on my chest until she falls back asleep.
But, I have a job to do.
“I’ll go downstairs and check the furnace. It should be something I can fix. I have enough supplies in storage.” I grab a glass from the kitchen shelf and a bottle of Chianti. Handing both to Sophia, I say, “Here. In case you need something to warm you up.”
As she takes my offering, her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes soften with recognition, though, and her lips curl up into a small, adorable smile.
She remembers.
“This is what we used to drink whenever we were here,” I say even though I know she already knows.
“Yeah.” As Sophia looks up, her smile widens. She says, “Thank you.”
“You should know I’ve upgraded, though.”
“I noticed.” Sophia grins. “We used to get the $10 bottle. This looks like it costs multiple times that.”
“Yeah. I didn’t have time to show you the kick-ass cellar in the basement,” I say, deliberately leaving out the part about her running away from me like a scared little bunny. I grin back at her instead. “Five times more expensive, to be exact.”
“Well, we are older, I guess.”
“We are.” As I look deep into her eyes, regret grows heavy in my chest.
I’ve wasted the past seven years when I could’ve spent them with her . . . I told myself I did it for her own good—and for Nicole’s.
But now, seeing what I’ve been missing . . . All the experiences she had while she was away from me, shaping her into the person sitting in front of me right now . . .
Damn, I would’ve loved watching her grow into this stunning, confident, self-assured young woman.
We say nothing, but I can sense the air changing, growing warmer, more familiar.
Sophia breaks eye contact as she looks down to open the bottle and pour some red wine into the glass.
“I should, uh, go downstairs and check the furnace,” I tell her, clearing my throat.
“You can leave that until the morning if you want. It’s late,” Sophia says.
“Nah. I already told you I was going to fix it, so that’s what I’ll do now.”
She already has trouble trusting me. I won’t give her more reason to keep doubting my words.
Besides, she looks so tempting right now with her eyes heavy-lidded and her guard down. She’s even about to drink—if she still reacts to alcohol the same way, that will only lower her inhibitions even more, in no more than ten sips.
I love this woman. With all my heart, I swear to God, I do. I won’t take advantage of her.
But, seeing her all vulnerable and more receptive than ever will make it hard for me to stick to that decision.
Sophia
By the time Eli emerges from the basement, he’s rolled up the sleeves of his checked flannel shirt, revealing his strong, muscled arms.
On the other hand, I’ve shed the blanket because it got unbearably hot after I polished off a couple of glasses of fancy Chianti by the fire.
Sitting on the couch where Eli slept, I can smell his musky, masculine scent, and I yearn for him.
“Did you manage to fix whatever was broken?” I ask, admiring the way he looks as the flame projects a dream-like, golden glow on one side of him while casting the rest of him in the shadows.
“Of course.” Eli shoots me a crooked, smug grin full of pride as he shuts the basement door behind him. “There was this duct section that was blocked. Luckily, it was somewhere I could access easily from the basement so I could seal it with tape.”
I nod even though I don’t really follow his explanation. Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the fact that I know jack-all about heaters.
Holding up a half-empty wine glass, I ask him, “Sounds like you deserve a drink after all that hard work.”
Eli chuckles as he approaches the couch. “How much have you had to drink, young lady?”
“Hey, I’m not eighteen anymore, okay? I’m of legal age now,” I remind him. In the back of my mind, I realize I’m bringing up the past, and that should make me nervous, but it doesn’t.
This is great. For the fir
st time since Eli burst into this cabin with a rifle pointed straight at me, I’m not nervous. I feel completely at ease.
As Eli takes his seat next to me, I feel the cushion dip under his weight and realize just what a big, imposing man he is. Something black stains his shirt and his exposed forearms, no doubt the side effect of his work downstairs.
Seriously, every man should learn some handyman skills. There’s something undeniably, irresistibly sexy about a man who knows what to do with his hands . . .
Before I know it, I’m holding Eli’s hand and staring at it like I’ve never seen a human hand in my life. “Did you cut yourself?”
Eli looks at the inch-long red streak on the back of his hand. “Oh, yeah, I guess I did.”
“You should be more careful.” I grab a corner of my blanket, dampen it with water from a glass resting on the coffee table, and wipe Eli’s cut with it.
“Thank you.” He looks awkward although he doesn’t pull his hand away. Maybe a glass of wine will help him relax.
“I know what else can make you feel better.” I raise an eyebrow as I pour more wine into the glass and offer it to Eli.
Eli takes the glass and gives me a solemn look. “I think you’ve had enough to drink, Sophia.”
“That’s why you should drink it,” I say, pouting. “We can’t pour the wine back into the bottle. That would be a crime. This is fancy wine.”
“Okay, okay.” He chuckles as he gulps down the glass in two seconds, flat.
I can’t help but smile. I’ve missed him for so long, and now he’s sitting right next to me. We’re even sharing a bottle like old times.
I mean, we’re stuck together in a small cabin during a sudden snow storm. What are the odds? Maybe we’re supposed to spend this time together. Perhaps this is an opportunity for us to get some closure.
Or possibly, we can . . . I don’t know. I’ve had filthy fantasies about Eli forever. In the past seven years, if I’m being really honest, no other man has even come close to him.
Is it possible that . . . that it’s time to see him for what he really is and bring him down from the pedestal I put him on? Maybe I need to get him out of my system.