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“I just…can’t ever stop thinking about it.” His body shakes against mine.
“No. Of course not.” I cradle his head against my chest. “Of course you can’t.” I hold him closer to me, speaking quietly near his ear. “It makes so much sense—and no one could. You know that, right?” I cup his jaw. “No one could forget that. It gets deep inside you…because you’re human. Even though you were a warrior, you’re a human being. And you’re strong, but you have a heart. It’s not supposed to be strong, you know? It has to be vulnerable to work.”
“I know.” The words are soft and tiny. His hand grips my side.
“But you’re tired.” I smooth his hair back, press my lips against his temple. “It’s so tiring. I know.” My mind spins with dead ends; nothing I can say will help him, and the hopeless feeling makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Finally I think of something. Something small. “You know what? Nightmares don’t happen in the first hour of sleep. You’ve never woken up then, right?”
After a second, he shakes his head.
“Do you want to take a nap? One hour on the nose?”
I can feel him hesitate, his body pausing.
“I’ll stay with you. I’ll hold you,” I whisper.
Barrett turns over on his stomach, wraps an arm behind his head. He takes a few deep breaths. Then he rolls onto his side. His eyes are on my face. I can feel them burn into me, even though he doesn’t touch me.
Finally he reaches out with his left hand, closing it over both of mine. His thumb strokes me. With every stroke, I watch his eyes grow heavier.
TWENTY-ONE
Gwenna
December 31, 2011
“That is seriously what you did while I was showering.”
Jamie blushes. “It was totally impromptu. I was getting back from the general store, and he had just dropped off this giant tin of roasted nuts for Mom and Dad. We started talking and I threw a snowball at him. Then we somehow ended up building this adorable little snowman. He’s so cute and so funny. Niccolo, not the snowman.” Jamie brushes at her snow-damp shirt sleeve, and then looks back up at me. “I don’t know John since we don’t live here full-time, but I’ve never even heard of Niccolo. Apparently he’s thirty.”
I arch my brows. “So what does he like…do or whatnot? Does he have a job?”
She scoffs. “Of course he has a job. I asked Mom after he left, and she said he works in Hollywood.” Jamie beams.
I can’t help rolling my eyes. “He probably works in a bar.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. He does something with movie production. Something on the business side,
with money. That’s what Mom said. She said Mayor Ferrara was really bummed he wasn’t interested in politics, but Niccolo and Casper have a different mom than John, the younger one, so they haven’t lived in Colorado with the mayor since they were children.” She lowers her voice. “Word is Mayor Ferrara cheated on Niccolo’s mom with John’s mom.”
“Well that’s original.” I pull the towel off my head and frown into the mirror at my eyebrows. They really need a wax, but all I’ve got time to do right now is pluck them.
“Anyway…” Jamie pulls her fleece sweater over her head, then wiggles out of her insulated snow pants and, in just underwear and her hoodie, starts to rummage through her suitcase. “The point I’m making here is you know how we were going to maybe meet up with the guys from last night if we got bored? Now we’re meeting up with them for sure… at 9:30.” She smiles her pretty, lipsticked smile and holds her head up high.
I flop back against the bathroom door. “Boooooo.”
Jamie has been single since our sophomore year of college, since her honey was caught making out with Duke’s all-star history professor in a campus bathroom. I can’t even remember the last time she took a shine to someone, so two hours later, we’re bumping along the isolated mountain road toward downtown Breck in her mother’s white Range Rover.
Jamie looks hot in black leggings and a red designer parka, with silver-gray fur-lined boots. She’s wearing fun earrings and her signature red lipstick, which always seems to make her teeth look radiantly white. I’ve got on a thigh-length, gold-brown sweater hoodie over dark brown leggings, and my own pair of fur-lined boots, which are caramel suede.
I intentionally skipped the lipstick and allowed myself to wear my ridiculous peacock feather earrings, hoping the two choices will lead to decreased male attention.
After almost twenty minutes struggling to find a parking spot on Breckenridge’s snowy-as-hell Main Street, I tug on my beanie, Jamie hides beneath her jacket hood, and we trudge toward Gemütlichkeit, a German “beer bar.”
The place is small and probably what a more people-friendly person would consider “cozy,” with lots of dark wood and mounted animal heads, plus a giant fireplace that makes me sweat within the first five seconds.
I see a hand shoot up in a dark corner of the place, followed by the friendly, bearded face of a man with dark eyes and a receding hairline.
