Page 34 of Snow Globe Secrets

I got to watch him work again as he sat up in the loft this time. I was back on my chair, skimming an article on my tablet and stealing glances in the darkened cabin, his cell phone flashlight illuminating him. He was more restless this time as he typed on his computer. When he found his way back down, I jumped up and joined him at the foot of the stairs, holding out a hand in offering, which he took.

“May I?” I asked, nodding my head up toward his bedroom.

“You may,” he said.

I let go of his hand and held both of the railings, letting my hands drag as I took the stairs, one of his bumping into me more than once. It shot sparks up my spine every time he did it, and his adorable little “sorry” ratcheted the sensation up a notch each time.

I quickly took in my surroundings when I reached the top of the stairs, the snowy window letting in enough gloomy light to get around. A narrow walkway led to a closed door to my right, which I guessed was the bathroom, and ahead of me was another loft area, with a big bed in the center of it, a nightstand on each side, a chair set to look out the expansive window. Bookshelves lined the wall on one side as well. A door in this area stood open, allowing me a glimpse of a neat and organized closet.

I turned and was on him as soon as he hit the top step, searing my mouth to his, amazed at how turned on I was again, based on what? His hand tapping mine and his soft, automatic “sorry” each time.

He may have been surprised, but I could feel him melt into me, give into me so completely that I was afraid we’d topple back down the stairs.

“Bed,” I muttered into his lips as a warning before I started to back us up until my legs hit the edge.

He pulled apart from me, and I swear my body had a mind of its own as my lips tried to chase his. It was his turn to take my hand and lead me the few steps to the side of the bed. We stood face-to-face, hand in hand, his smile bright enough to light the dim room. “We’re supposed to be napping.”

“You’re right,” I said, dropping his hand and taking a small step back. Just enough room to free myself of my clothes, which I collected and placed on the chair before sliding under the covers.

He watched me the whole time, still standing in the same spot. I wiggled around and got comfortable in his bed. Propping myself up on pillows against his headboard, I lifted the corner of the covers in invitation.

But Randall didn’t follow me, either clothed or naked, into the bed. He sat down on it instead and put his head in his hands.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked in frustration.

“Oh, I have a few ideas about what you can do with a naked man in your bed, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“What was I thinking?” he bemoaned.

“I thought we were trying not to think,” I replied softly.

“Yeah, well, I think we need to think! We need to think about your parents and our age difference and my isolated life and your promising future.”

He was voicing valid concerns, of course. Concerns I was maybe trying not to think about even as feelings for the man bloomed and grew out of the knot my insides had become. I closed my eyes, picturing those blooming feelings. Was it a lovely flower growing inside me or a choking vine? I realized, possibly in that moment, or possibly it had been slowly growing and blooming since the moment I first saw him: I knew which I wanted it to be, crazy though the notion may have been because he was absolutely right; he was my parents’ friend. Even if he weren’t, he was years older than me. I must be just some kid to him, someone to pass the time with, like we’d said.

But then his last words registered. Promising future. Could he be thinking about something more than what we could get up to until the storm ended and our little snow globe shattered? What would that look like? How could it work? Mom, Dad, meet my boyfriend. He’s exactly the same age as you, and funny story, I think you went to the same college! Oh? You thought he was here as your friend? You didn’t know he was gay?

“Randall?” I sighed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and encouraging him to lie down next to me. After a few awkward moves, he was nestled in my arms under the blankets.

“You're naked,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I lifted myself up as I said, “I was going for sexy fun; I’ll go grab those sweatpants.”

Randall turned into me, weighing me down as he swung a leg over mine and put his head back in the crook of my arm. “No, don’t. We can … If you want.”

He didn’t sound unwilling, but he certainly didn’t sound enthused.

“No, absolutely not. I was promised a nap.” I snuggled down, ignoring how that dragged my dick against his sweatpants-clad leg.

“Austin.”

“I didn’t mean to freak you out, Randall.”

“Oh, you didn’t. I managed to do that all on my own. I get in my head, sometimes. Ignore what I said, well, most of it anyway. I know this is just supposed to be a hookup. Like my time in Boston …” He trailed off.

“I bet a guy like you cleaned up in Boston.” I wrapped my arms more tightly around him, hoping he would talk it out.

“Here’s the thing, Austin. I was never really with anyone else before I met my husband.” He paused, waiting for my reaction. I simply held him tighter and nodded above his head. If he was expecting a dramatic or surprised response, I guess I was a disappointment.