by Claire Adams
I walked into the cabin after her and told her to go sit on the couch. I went to the kitchen and started some coffee before going over to the fireplace. She was sitting, running her hands through her hair, clearly anxious.
"Are you hungry?" I asked.
"No."
"Where were you going?" I asked. She didn't answer. "Why did you leave?"
"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before going."
"That's not what I asked you," I said. She finally looked at me. Her eyes shone like she was going to cry, but she wasn't. Yet.
"Where was I going? Home would have been ideal but generally as far as I could get from here had been the plan. Clearly, it didn’t work."
"Why?"
"Because of last night, Cameron," she said as I got up and walked to the kitchen. She started again when I came back with two mugs of coffee for us. "I've been attracted to you since getting here. Since before that even. I thought that keeping my distance while we were stuck up here would mean being able to control myself, and for a couple nights, it did.
"I asked you to come to bed to me, and I shouldn't have. It was unprofessional, and I feel horrible about it." Horrible: definitely hadn't heard that after sex. "Not because of you," she added quickly, probably seeing my reaction. "I felt bad because I shouldn't have done it. It's tacky and unprofessional, and it blurs the lines where everything should be cut and dried and orderly."
"Natalie, it's not a big deal. You aren't going to get into trouble for this. Nothing illegal or skeevy happened. It isn’t even against company rules. I'm attracted to you too. I would have made a move earlier if I had thought you were interested."
"Don't say that."
"It's true. Since the first time I saw you in the office, Natalie. I think you're beautiful." She looked at me silently, and it felt like a long time before she said anything.
"Thank you. I think you are too. Handsome, I mean, not beautiful. I mean you are, but…" she trailed off. Her face was bright pink. She was still uncomfortable.
"Don’t feel sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I felt like," another pause. "I felt dirty after what we did. Not because of you; because of me. You were sweet, and sexy and... attentive." Her face turned an even deeper pink when she said the last word. I knew she was uncomfortable, and I felt sorry for that, but I couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a little fun watching her squirm. At least she wasn’t sitting there saying she wasn’t attracted to me because her whole demeanor was giving her away. She was attracted to me; she just didn’t want to be anymore.
"After everything, when we were done, when I came back to my senses, I felt so guilty. I remembered where we were; why you had come here, everything that’s happened the past few weeks. and I felt like I took advantage of you. It hasn't even been a month since the funeral."
"Took advantage of me? I wanted you, Natalie. I wouldn’t have waited ‘til last night at all if I had thought you would have given me a chance earlier. You didn't do anything wrong."
"I could hardly get to sleep last night when we went back to bed thinking about how I showed up here and ruined your little winter utopia, then threw myself at you like that. I'm sorry. I freaked out. I should have said something instead of trying to leave. I felt so trashy going after my boss' son. I just panicked."
"It's okay, Natalie. Really. Nobody at work is going to think any different of you after this."
"You don't know that," she said. She had a point. I didn't know anything that had happened at the office lately. It wasn't like we had talked while we had both been there. I didn't know what it would have been like for her to have rumors about her sex life discussed by her colleagues. Not good, I supposed. Embarrassing, probably. Whatever it would be like, she didn't want to find out.
"Nobody's going to find out," I told her. "Unless you or I tell anyone, and I'm not going to if you don't want me to."
"I'm sorry for giving you the wrong message last night," she said. Ouch. I had been there last night. I had heard her moan and beg and felt her come when I had been inside her, twice. That wasn't true. The message had been loud and clear, and I felt the same way. She might have felt bad afterward for doing it, but that didn't mean she hadn't wanted me as much as I wanted her.
So what, are you going to fight her on this? I thought. Make her admit that she wanted it? Like that would work. She was upset about what happened. She thinks she made a terrible mistake and perhaps many people would agree and say that she had. I don’t think many people thought sleeping with your boss’ son was a good move, even if the boss was dead and the son had wanted to fuck you practically since you’d met.
Arguing about it wasn't going to make her feel better. And what would making her agree that she had enjoyed herself do? She knew that she had, and it wasn’t like I was trying to spare my feelings. It was a weird situation, and at the end of the day, the reason why didn’t even matter that much. All that mattered was she didn’t want it to happen again, and whatever I thought, I had to respect that.
"I get it if you think we shouldn't have hooked up last night, but I know what I felt." She didn't bother arguing with that. "Do you regret what you feel or what you did?"
"What I did," she said quietly, "and the timing; that could have been better. And the circumstances. I can't help what I feel."
"If I wasn't me and my parents weren't dead..." and she didn't feel this fear about what other people would think of her, and she stopped thinking she was taking advantage of me, and she could just let go and be honest with what she felt…
"I wish things were different, but they aren't. I don't feel right pursuing anything further. Last night was great, it was amazing, but it can't happen again." Not with that attitude, I thought, cynically. It wouldn't have worked trying to convince her. You didn't get a person to sleep with you by wearing them down. She wasn't budging.
"Just for the record, I enjoyed our time together last night too, but if you're uncomfortable, I can go back downstairs, if you feel like that would make you feel better."
"It would make me feel better. Sorry," she apologized again.
"It's okay," I told her. And it was. Spending the next couple nights on the couch was not about to kill me. I'd survive that. I was just sorry that she felt so uncomfortable with what had happened last night. Knowing that it just wasn’t realistic for me to think about this turning into something serious didn’t make the rejection sting any less. I still wanted her, but oh well, back to sitting on my hands and taking cold showers.
"Can I just say, I don't think anybody has ever said that they felt dirty after having sex with me." I had said it lightly which made her laugh a little.
"I didn't mean like that. I meant that—” she said.
"I know what you meant. Don't worry about it." I took her empty coffee cup from her and took it to the kitchen. Don't take personal offense, I thought. She's basically saying she'd do you again in a second but can't because she thinks it's wrong. It all came back to timing, didn't it? This was the worst time that we could have met, tried to do anything. The best thing you can do at this point is to try not to jerk your dick ‘til it falls off before she leaves.
She got up from the couch and said she had to go back outside. She had actually transferred all her stuff to her car, thinking she'd be able to get far during her escape attempt. I offered to help her, but she declined, saying she had it. I watched her disappear outside the door and walked over to look outside. The snow didn't look like it had gotten worse, but it hadn't really gotten better. The roads were still impassable. She'd really try brave inches of snow in her sedan to get away from me?
The thought slipped through unchecked. I knew from what she had said that that wasn't the case, but it was an easy conclusion to jump to. I had at least a few more days with her before she could leave. It would be better for everyone if I didn't take what she had said personally.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Natalie
We stood on the road, looking at m
y car. It was trapped in a bank of snow on the side of the road. The snow hid the ditch that had trapped my front driver's side wheel. Without that ditch, I might have careened right into the trees, so it could have been worse, I guessed.
"So what do you think?" I asked.
"We're lucky it hasn't snowed these past couple nights," he offered. Not something that would help get the car out, but he had a point. My car was covered with a light dusting of snow, most of which I figured had fallen from the branches of the trees. The snow and ice on the road were probably navigable by Cameron's truck, but I'd have more trouble. Meanwhile, we were standing outside in the cold while there was a warm fire inside.
"I'm hungry. You want to eat?"
"Once we get your car out."
"It's not going anywhere," I said, trying to get out of the task. I didn't want to spend any more time in the snow, but I also didn't really want to think about leaving. I wasn't leaving, not yet, but the weather had been getting better lately. All that better meant up here was we hadn't had another blizzard, and the snowfall had been little to zero the past couple days. The cover had cleared enough to roughly make out the road whereas before, it had been impossible to see under the snow.
We had contacted a snow removal service the day before, and they had told us it would take another day to get out this far. That was how long I had: one more day. Leaving had been at the back of my mind, but now that it was actually about to happen, I wasn't that enthusiastic about getting back on the road.
The past couple days since the incident that had gotten my car stuck in the snow bank had been good. They had been nice, you know, casual and respectful, no sharing beds or sharing anything else. Just a lot of hot cocoa and good conversation; what we had had before the night that I had made the worst mistake of my life. Maybe not of my life, but definitely the worst mistake I could have made being in the position that I had been in. He had been a saint, not bringing it up again, but I felt it hang over us sometimes. That must have been my own fault, but I couldn't help it.
There was this thing people said about how denying your urges just making them worse. Cameron and I, just by being stuck up here with only each other for company, had formed a fast friendship. I was attracted to him, and he was to me; letting go and letting it happen again would have just deepened that. If he wasn’t my late boss’ son and it hadn’t been merely weeks since his loss, I wouldn’t have held back. I would touch him and let him touch me, kiss him, everything I ached to do, but knew I shouldn’t. I liked Cameron Porter. I liked him more than it was right to admit, and I would miss him when I was gone.
"Not until we get it out," he said. "Do you have your key?" I nodded, handing it over to him. "I'll see whether I can drive it out. If not, we can try to hitch it to my truck to get it unstuck." Or we could just have skipped to his second, better idea and bypassed the first one completely. The way the car was lodged, the ice would only make the tires spin. There wouldn't be enough traction to get the car out on its own, but I kept quiet.
He hadn't had to do a lot of the things he had been doing here in his normal life, and he had learned his survival skills fast. He had the right idea anyway so it would be no use correcting him. He had gotten confident out here on his own, and I didn't want to take that away from him. He deserved it. He'd need it if he was as set on staying here as he seemed to be.
Okay, great. You're leaving tomorrow. Anything you need to tell the man before you leave? I thought, watching him start my car and try to drive it out of the ditch unsuccessfully. You know, like all that stuff Brett actually sent you up here to say to him in the first place?
I watched him come out of the car and jog up to me.
"No luck?"
"No. Gonna have to try to use my truck to haul it out," he said.
"Sorry for all the trouble," I said.
"It's no problem," he paused with a smirk, "as long as we can get it out."
No. I wasn't saying it. I wasn't ruining my last full day here with him telling him about work. It was the last thing he wanted to hear about. I'd probably be the one who would have to remind him, but damn it, not right now. When? I didn't know anymore. I'd have Brett to answer to for stalling, but I'd handle that when I got back to work.
"What if we can’t?" I asked.
"Then you're stuck out here, aren't you," he said, joking. "It's firewood splitting and elk hunting for you all over again. You're still a good shot, right?"
"I think both of us know good and well that you’ve never fired a rifle in your life," I said lightly, letting the thought of staying up here with him warm me a little. Just a little. I was not trying to get back to nature, but I did like the thought of staying with him longer. Even if it was out here in the cold, mountainous wilderness. I stopped myself before I got carried away.
He gave me my keys and went inside for his. It took a while, but we finally freed my car from the snowbank. It took a couple tries, but we finally managed it, pulling my car out from the rear so I could drive it back up to the house. After we had done it, I thought for a second what I would have done, really, if I had been able to make my escape the morning I had panicked and tried to get away.
Most likely, turned right around and came back.
I had been nervous food shopping for Cameron. You never knew these days who was dairy-free, or gluten-free or whatever the hell else. Cameron didn't seem to have any food aversions though, luckily. I turned the heat down on the stove to simmer the chili I had going. Turkey, my mom's recipe. He was in the bathroom. It would probably be done by the time he came out.
My phone vibrated on the counter. I looked over at it, then at the bathroom door. I grabbed it and walked out to the deck before picking up. It wasn't that I didn't want him to hear what I said, except that it totally was. It was Kasey. She'd ask about him, and there were things I'd say to her that I wouldn't necessarily want him to hear.
"Hello?"
"Hey. What's up?" I asked.
"What's up? Where the hell are you?" she asked. It had been how long now? Right. Too long.
"Same place I've been for the last five days."
"No, I mean why aren't you here yet," she complained.
"Something specific you needed me to do?"
"There's no way the snow was that bad," she said.
"Do you really think I'd still be up here if I had the option to leave?"
"Snowed in with your boyfriend? Yeah, I do." I cringed. That one hit a little too close to home. What I wanted wasn’t important. I would have loved to be doing what she thought I was doing up here, but the guilt had given way to confusion and that had just led to frustration.
"I won't be coming back ‘til we can get a plow or something up here."
"So he is your boyfriend? You're not going to deny it this time?" she asked.
"He isn't, but it doesn't matter to you, does it?"
"Whoa, what the hell did I do?" she asked.
"Sorry, I snapped at you. I've been up here way too long."
"What's going on with the two of you up there?" she asked.
"I fucked up," I told her, sighing. I came clean, telling her what had happened the night I had asked Cameron to come to the bed with me. Hindsight was twenty-twenty apparently, and with each passing day, I still couldn't figure out what I had been thinking telling him to come sleep with me. I hadn't been thinking. I had been horny and trying to give him the green light.
God, you're a mess. Kasey listened as I told her everything: what happened that night, then the disaster the morning after when I had tried to take my car out. Starting to date and becoming sexually active in college, I had had some memorable mornings-after with people I liked a lot less than Cameron. I had been hoping though that at age twenty-eight, I would be past the point where I was trying to sneak out while the guy was still asleep. I had just felt overwhelmed by everything. The shame, the embarrassment, the thought that since that barrier had been breached, there would be no keeping me away from him, so I had run.
&
nbsp; Didn’t make sense now and hadn’t made sense then. I wasn’t defending it; it was just the truth. I had found someone I liked, like really liked, but I couldn’t have him, and it was more frustrating than I knew how to deal with just yet.
"Wow," she said when I was done. "And nothing since?"
"Nothing," I said, unfortunately. "It's for the best. We can't... I can't do this with him."
"Do what? You're leaving in a couple days, right? Have fun while you can."
"Kasey, you know I can't do that," I said. That was one of the main differences between us. She could do flings, hookups, the fuck-buddy thing. I couldn't. I had learned that about myself shortly after college, after over a year with a guy who I allowed to call me his 'friend' even though we were practically living together. He had wanted to keep it loose, and I had agreed just because I hadn't wanted to lose him. I had of course, and it had hurt more than if I had just told him at the beginning that I had been uncomfortable being his back-up. I hadn't made that mistake again, and I wasn't about to now.
"Why not if you're going to leave? This has a set expiration date. No expectations, no disappointment."
"I don't just want to have sex with him, Kase. I actually like this guy. The more time I spend with him, the more I feel like... I don't know."
"You have feelings for him. Of course, you do. I almost forgot who I was talking to for a second." Kasey teased me for being so serious, as she called it about relationships. She didn’t understand how I had grown up with four brothers and somehow managed to still turn out to be a romantic. It wasn’t that I was serious; it was just that dating wasn’t just a fun social activity for me. I fell hard, and when I did, I wanted to see where things went, not just have fun. In this case, though, she was right in her disapproval.