Cabin In The Woods

by Kristine Robinson

  * * *

  Chapter One

  The morning air was brisk and refreshing, exactly what I needed to unwind after a night of restless tossing and turning. The yoga instructor’s voice was warm and soothing, aiding me in my attempt to forgot the hectic work week. I folded limberly forward, arching my back and breathing out slowly. Out went the stress of having justifiably cranky patients yell at me throughout the day. I loved my job as a nurse, don’t get me wrong, but there were days where I questioned my sanity.

  I’d like to say an hour of yoga in the park, with the crisp New York air around me, helped me to distress entirely. Unfortunately, some lingered. I rolled my mat up neatly and slung it over my shoulder, already thinking ahead to my schedule for the next week. I had two midterm exams, an online class to write an essay for, and thirty internship hours to be worked at Hudson’s Medical Clinic.

  Sleep wouldn’t be making it into my schedule it seemed.

  Not feeling settled enough to return home and try to memorize text books, I dropped my mat off at my car and set out to jog around the scenic pathway. The massive trees provided plenty of shade and blocked a fair bit of the wind, leaving me comfortably cool once I’d been jogging a few minutes.

  It was hard to think of much else while running, the sound of my Spotify playlist loud in my ears and all my focus going to drawing in enough air. My heart raced, and I felt the steady beat with every step I took. Like a bass drum was being rung through me.

  The longer I ran, the more I zoned out. I’m not sure how many laps around the park I had taken, but my legs were starting to burn past what could be considered pleasant. Exhausted, thinking of the hour long nap I would sneak in before doing any real work, I rounded a shadowed bend.

  The first I became aware of the woman, I was on top of her. We were lying in a heap on the ground, and my face was tucked into her curly auburn hair. She was warm against me, even through the layers of our clothes. She smelled like apples and fresh air, and I rather guiltily jerked away. I’d run the poor woman down, and now I was continuing to invade her personal space.

  I quickly shifted from atop her, feeling my face heat to scalding levels. I’d been straddling her. “I am so, so sorry,” I said, hovering by her side. “Here, let me help you up.” I tentatively touched her arm, taking in the dazed expression on her face and the way her jaw was locked. She had plush, pink lips that were shiny with gloss and perfect white teeth which were sank into the bottom one at the moment. Her luxurious, ridiculously soft hair splayed out around her head in waves, and if I hadn’t just plowed into her, I’d probably have tried to flirt.

  Slender fingers grasped for mine, and I helped her into a seated position. Her hands were bigger than mine, her fingers longer. The press of the ring on her middle finger was cool against my skin. I braced her with a hand splayed in the center of her back, absently rubbing for comfort. Some things had become ingrained from my time doing clinicals.

  The woman breathed heavily through clenched teeth, her breasts rising and falling with every inhale and exhale, and her cheeks were very pale. I wasn’t expecting the very quiet, “It’s all right.”

  I was sure I looked skeptical. She was favoring her left ankle, wincing every time she tried to shift it. “Are you sure? I’m a nurse.”

  She let my hand drop and propped her palm on the concrete path. “Yeah, I’ve got this.”

  I took a step away, giving her the room needed to get to her feet. She rose slowly and carefully, clearly trying to distribute the majority of her weight to her right side. I stayed close just in case, and I wasn’t surprised at all when she tilted forward, arms wind milling once she got both feet under her.

  Her left leg had buckled, and I quickly moved to catch her. The abrupt movement rocked me onto my heels for a second. Once I’d steadied, I slung my arm around her waist and encouraged her to lean. She was taller than me by several inches, and despite the fact she was shaking slightly against my side, she was a line of heat. The shaking had to be from pain and not cold, then. My guilt ramped up several notches. “I’m going to get you to a doctor. I’ll pay and everything. I can’t believe I did that.”

  The woman laughed, a short puff of amusement. It was a beautiful sound, stilted though it was, and it caused butterflies to stir in my stomach. Obviously they didn’t understand the situation was far from appropriate. “It happens. Don’t get worked up about it.”

  I led her toward where I’d parked my car. Awkwardness settled heavily on my shoulders. What did one say in such a situation other than “I’m sorry” repeatedly? “It’s a pretty nice day out.” Inwardly, I cringed. I curled my fingers against her side, and I could feel the movement of her ribcage as she giggled.

  “It is,” she said amicably. “I guess that’s what brought us both out for a run.” Her arm was hung over my shoulder, her fingers gripping my arm. She squeezed once. Where my hands were clammy with nerves, hers were not. “I’ve not seen you running here before. Is it something new you’re trying?”

  We reached the car and I helped her step down from the curb and around to the passenger side. “I don’t run regularly,” I admitted. “Just had some stuff I needed to get off my mind this morning.”

  She eased into the seat with a lofty sigh. She smiled, a small thing, and it was beautifully crooked. The right side of her lips rose further, and it revealed a deep dimple. My stomach swooped and I barely refrained from staring at the adorable feature with slack jawed amazement. Trust me to knock over the prettiest woman I’d ever seen. “I’m training for a marathon. I run twice every day.”

  Cue yet more skyrocketing of my guilt. “I am so—”

  She grabbed my wrist lightly, and the touch sent shivers down my spine. Her fingers could fully circle my wrist, and I don’t know why I was finding that so fascinating. “Do not say sorry. We’re past that.” She swiped her thumb over my pulse, which had the immediate reaction of causing the damn thing to skip a beat. She could probably feel what she was doing to me. “It’s probably just a sprain.”

  She wore skin tight black and white patterned leggings. They hugged her mile long legs to perfection, showing off toned calves and thighs, and a butt that did the peach emoji proud. I forced my gaze down to her ankles, dainty beneath the clothing. I couldn’t see her skin to check for discoloration or swelling, but she was probably right. Sprains could feel like a break at first. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” I waited till my back was to her to grimace. I was on a roll with the awkward today and my leering was all kinds of inappropriate.

  As I started the car, she asked, “You plan on telling me your name?”

  “Uh.” It slipped my mind for a moment, lost underneath the confusion of the day. “Amber. I’m Amber Kinsey.” My cheeks felt warm, flushed with embarrassment. I pushed my hair back behind my ear and tried to focus on joining traffic.

  “Nice to meet you, Amber.” For someone who was probably in a decent amount of pain, she managed to sound chipper. Humor laced her words. “I’m Natalie Jenson. How do you do?” She said it with a quirky smile, the dimple making yet another appearance and her eyes sparkling with mirth. I’d heard the expression before, but I’d never thought someone’s eyes could actually do that.

  Yeah… I had been sounding formal. I couldn’t help but smile in response, and my shoulders went down a notch from their tense position. I swallowed my natural response—which was to apologize for my awkwardness—and laughed instead. “You have to be the easiest going person I’ve ever met.” I knew anyone else in her situation would be cussing me up one side and down the other.

  Natalie reached out, starting to fiddle with the radio stations. Her nails were a deep blue, long and from the looks of it professionally done. “I don’t see the point in wasting time on being negative.” She settled on a top 50 station, and the newest Lady Gaga hit filtered through my speakers. “And I know you didn’t intentionally do this. Plus, what’s the saying? It takes two to tango? I’m just as much at fault.” She shifted, and a quick
flash of pain stole over her features. She breathed slowly.

  I wished the cars in front of me would pick up the pace. “We’re almost there.”

  “Where’s ‘there?’”

  “Remember how I said I’m a nurse?” I switched lanes. “I’m going to take you to the clinic I work at. You’ll get checked faster. We’ll be able to do an x-ray on your ankle on site, and there’s a pharmacy down the block if you need to fill a prescription.” I made the turn onto Hudson street when it hit me. “Do you have a car? Does someone need to get it? I can drive you home.”

  Natalie patted my leg, and my stomach started a slow burn. That was weird. “You’re a high strung chick, aren’t you? Let me guess, working as a nurse but you’re still in school looking to get a higher certification. Running on caffeine and little to no sleep.”

  When I glanced at her, she was grinning. She still hadn’t moved her hand from my thigh. It was warm through my yoga pants and I had a hard time thinking of anything other than how it would feel if my clothes weren’t in the way. Which, what the hell? Where were these thoughts coming from? “You nailed it,” I said. “What about you?” The question was born of genuine curiosity as much as a need to keep things from getting quiet.

  “I’m a wild child.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  Natalie smirked, and oh God. That somehow made her even more attractive. It added an air of mischievousness to her angelic beauty. “I’m a model. I travel a lot. The marathon I’m running is for a cancer charity. Every participant is sponsored, and the money goes to the charity of our choice. We can choose to match the sponsored amount or donate even more.”

  A model. That explained a lot. My mind blanked. I’d mown down a model. And I was proceeding to wax poetic about her gorgeous looks. I’d lost it. “I…. Wow.”

  “I’m a normal person,” teased Natalie. When her nose crinkled, I noticed the freckles adorning the bridge. My gaze tracked them, and I wondered how I’d missed the spread of them over her cheekbones. I realized she wasn’t wearing makeup at the moment. She looked airbrush and she seriously didn’t have a speck of anything on. “Nothing’s changed from a minute ago.”

  I parked my car carefully in the clinic’s lot. I thought over what she’d said, ignoring how I’d been staring at her face and contradicting her by thinking of her as anything but normal. “So you were sponsored? How does that work?” I had a sinking feeling.

  “People donate. I’ve raised a little over $500,000 at the moment. The plan was to double that donation on my part.”

  Sinking feeling confirmed. That was a lot of money. I tried to tell myself everything would be okay as I helped her from the car. “When’s the marathon?”

  “Next Monday.” Her arm was firm around my shoulders, and she squeezed as she answered. “Don’t worry about it.”

  I made a noise of affirmation since words failed me. Don’t worry about it. As if. This was coming from the woman who could afford to donate a million dollars to a charity. I was pretty sure—knowing myself as I did—that I’d be worrying about this for a long time.

  My fellow nurse, Catherine, was behind the desk when we entered. Her eyebrows rose sharply and she came out from the filing area to assist with settling Natalie in a chair. Even in pain and in workout clothes, Natalie looked like a queen sitting there. Or maybe that was just my over active imagination. “What happened? You know this is supposed to be your day off, right?”

  “I knocked her over,” I said sheepishly. “There’s a good chance her ankle is sprained, possibly broke. She’s not been able to put any weight on it since the fall.”

  Catherine shook her head. “Only you. I’ll go get a wheelchair to make life easy.” As she disappeared into the back, I knew I’d never hear the end of this from the staff. And they’d all be aware of what had happened by lunch time today. The gossip mill at a doctor’s office was second only to one in high school.

  I wheeled Natalie back, and Catherine and she chatted the entire time. Catherine had apparently recognized her, and was questioning her about some magazine cover or shoot I’d never heard of. The feeling burgeoning in my chest definitely wasn’t irritation or jealousy. So what if Natalie had turned her charming, bright smile on Catherine and I no longer had the full focus of her attention.

  I’d live.

  Catherine pulled me aside as the x-ray ran. Natalie looked serene and not at all like this was an inconvenience. I forced my gaze away and onto Catherine instead. “You might have broken Natalie Jenson’s ankle.

  “Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” I said drily.

  “You know how insane this is? She used to be a bunny.”

  “She used to be a rabbit?”

  Catherine snorted. “Playboy bunny, Amber. I know somewhere in that head of yours is space for something other than textbooks.”

  I knocked my head into the glass. Beneath the sheer “what have I done,” I was now picturing Natalie in small lace thongs and cinching corsets. She’d look amazing in blue lingerie, something that would match her nails. Or green… something to bring out the color in her eyes. I knocked my head again for good measure. When had I become such a lascivious person. Now was not the time to be thinking of Natalie in five inch heels and see through panties…. I was doing it again. I sighed. “This day keeps getting better and better.”

  Catherine elbowed my side. “What’s she like? How’d it happen?”

  I closed my eyes. The whirring of the machine from the other side of the glass filled my ears. It beeped as it finished, and I was honestly terrified to see what the results would be. We went into the room together, and I helped Natalie upright while Catherine checked the x-rays. She rocked the hospital gown like I hadn’t even thought was possible. I bet she’d done shoots as a naughty nurse before, or maybe even as the patient in need of some special attention. My heart raced. I was turning into a bad porn.

  “Do we want the good news or the bad news?” asked Catherine.

  I turned to see she’d pinned the images up.

  “Let’s start with the good news,” said Natalie.

  “Your ankle isn’t broken,” said Catherine, “but it is fractured. You’re going to be on crutches for a bit.”

  Natalie chattered as I drove her home from the clinic, seemingly not bothered at the unintended upheaval to her life. I couldn’t muster a response, though. I was bothered enough for the both of us. There had to be something I could do to fix this situation.

  My attention was diverted when I arrived at her home. She lived in a towering penthouse, with glass windows and a view that would look out over the city. When I pulled into the front, a Valet actually stepped out. My mouth was gaping, and I quickly shut it. I didn’t need to make it any more obvious that such luxury and I were unfamiliar.

  “Do you need me to help you?” I asked, politeness kicking in. I wasn’t sure if she’d want me to know which apartment was hers.

  I wasn’t expecting her to lean over and kiss my cheek. Her lips were cold but not chapped, and they were faintly sticky with gloss. My heart stopped beating for a long second. It was as if time had frozen. She’d kissed me. The lips I’d been daydreaming about had touched my skin. “I’m good. Thanks for getting me here.”

  I couldn’t even remember what I had said, and it took me a minute to get with the present. I could feel the kiss like a phantom touch, and I knew when she got out of the car, I wouldn’t be able to resist putting my fingers to the spot. I grabbed her wrist before she could open the door, the craziest of ideas springing to mind. I knew what I could do to make this right. And if it allowed me a little more time to maybe find a flaw in this perfect woman, well, that was just a bonus.

  “Let me run the marathon for you.”

  Chapter Two

  At Natalie’s request, I arrived on her doorstep bright and early the next morning. When I’d offered to run the marathon for her, I hadn’t thought about the training involved. I was good to run a mile but realistically not
much more than that. Natalie was going to give me strength and endurance pointers, to make sure I didn’t keel over during the race. Natalie, the perfect model who turned my knees to jelly, was going to be watching clumsy me workout.

  I’d jumped in way over my head.

  Coffee in one hand, I knocked on her door with the other. I could hear the clacking of her crutches on tile, and a minute later the door swung open. Natalie had an unappealing looking green smoothie in one hand, her crutches under her arms, and she somehow managed to look like a goddess first thing in the morning. Her auburn hair was tousled in a fresh from bed, but not unattractively messy, do, and she wore nothing more than a sports bra and a tiny pair of shorts. I had a hard time not staring at the golden tan expanse of her legs. They were long.

  I’d been attracted to women before, but never anything like this. It had always been more of a fleeting thought in the back of my mind, forgotten soon after. I was aware, painfully so, that there was nothing about Natalie’s presence which was fleeting. The fluttering in my belly every time I saw her, and the way her bright smile made my chest constrict…. This was new, terrifying territory for me. From the moment I’d bowled her over, she’d returned the favor by turning my world on its axis. My fingers twitched with the desire to touch her, to see if her skin was as soft as it looked, if her legs were as tone as they appeared. How would her muscles flex under my touch?

  Leave it to me to develop a crush on a model. Talk about aiming out of my league. Everything about Natalie was put together and perfect, and I knew in comparison I simply didn’t match up. The vast difference in our incomes was one thing, my lack of fashion sense was another. I was positively plain next to Natalie. Short and with average brown hair and brown eyes, I felt dull in comparison. My teeth—even with the braces I’d had as a child—were nowhere near as perfect. My hair occupied a state of almost permanent fizziness once I stepped foot from my apartment. Bed head for me looked as if Medusa was making an appearance. Natalie looked as if she was about to go do a photoshoot with Victoria’s Secret. Never in a million years would I be caught wearing shorts that small.