Page 60 of Snowed In


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I heard a resounding splash, and saw that Jeremy had cannonballed into the water! Shane was on the other side of me, pulling off the rest of his snow-covered clothes. He took off everything, even his underwear. Just as with Boone, my eyes locked onto his beautifully rounded ass as he walked slowly down the steps and into the water.

“Looks like someone’s having a good time.”

I whirled, and Boone was smirking back at me. A wave of awkwardness crashed over me, but I fought it off.

“No.”

“Yes you are. You’re loving this.”

“I am not ‘loving this’,” I asserted. “If anything, you guys are—”

“No,” he cut me off. “This is every girl’s wettest dream. Three hot guys, all to herself. Stuck here with them. Caring for them…” He nodded over his shoulder to where I was cleaning his wounds. “Hell, you’re even the one fixing the radio.”

There was a lump in my throat. Is he right?

“You’re a rock-star, Morgan,” he went on. “You’d stay here forever if you could.”

All at once I wondered if he were right. If for some reason I wasn’t thriving on the whole scenario. Shane. Jeremy. And now him. I’d taken all three of them as lovers. All three of them, into my proverbial bed…

But haven’t they taken you as well?

“You’re out of your mind,” I said dismissively. Even so, it came off as nervous. “I’m just as anxious to get out of here as the rest of you. If it weren’t for the storm…”

“Hey!” Jeremy shouted suddenly. He was thrashing around happily in the deep end of the pool. “There’s mud down here!”

“Bring me some of that mud,” I instructed him. “Please.”

Boone looked at me curiously and I shrugged. “You said the mud had healing properties. Remember?”

A few minutes later I’d packed his wounds with large clumps thick grey clay. Whether they’d help the healing process or not remained to be seen, but they dried into a nice little bandage that stopped the bleeding.

He’s right you know, the little voice in my head chimed in. You really do love this.

I sighed and began the process of drying off and dressing. Ignoring the stares I got as I wiped my body.

Maybe you didn’t realize it, but this is your element.

Walking away, I tried deciding what to do next. I had no idea what time it was, or how long it would be until dawn. I was still ravenously hungry. I was thirsty again too. I should be scavenging for food, or fixing the radio, or checking to see if the storm let up.

But I was doing none of those things. Instead I was standing here, only—

“Morgan...”

I turned and there was Shane, sitting by the edge of the pool. He was still holding his wrist, looking down into his hand.

“Could you bring me some of that mud?”

Thirty-Two

MORGAN

Shane’s hand was bad. Not ‘bad’ bad, but bad enough that I felt absolutely terrible.

“Oh my God… why didn’t you tell me?”

“Just did.”

Gingerly I took his hand in mine, blowing on it to get it dry. As squeaky clean and refreshed as Shane now looked, water still dripping from his beard, putting his hand the hot springs must’ve been agony for him.

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