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His hand slides down my abdomen and inside my lacy underwear. Every nerve ending in my body comes to life as he moves his fingers in my most intimate place, and it doesn’t take long for pleasure to erupt through every last one, blanketing my entire body in warmth despite the chilly temperature.
Wes leans down and kisses me again. It’s not as frenzied as before. It’s soft and intimate. Filled with shared secrets and singular moments.
We’re quiet after that, soaking up each other’s company. I feel closer to him than I ever have before. Not because I just shared more with him physically than I have with anyone else, but because it’s accompanied with an emotional intimacy I’ve never shared with anyone else, either. With an emotion I’m scared to name.
“Do you want to go inside?” Wes asks. “It’s getting cold.”
“Inside?” I ask.
“Yeah. I have a key to the cabin.”
“What? You do?”
“My uncle only comes for a couple weeks in the summer now. He likes to have me look in on the place during the rest of the year.”
“Your uncle gave you keys to a cabin he never uses? That’s convenient.”
Wes smirks. “I’ve never used it like that. I just stop in a couple times a month to make sure everything’s working. I’ve been here more with you than in the past three years combined. I would have suggested it before, but I didn’t want you to think I expected anything.”
“You’re not worried about that now?” I ask.
“Not really,” Wes replies, still smirking. “You obviously have no issue escalating things when you want to.”
I blush. “It’s not that I haven’t wanted to before,” I admit. “But that—that was the first time I’d done any of that.”
Wes gives me a soft smile. “I’m not in a rush, Maeve. I’m good with whatever. I promise.”
I study his features, ones that have been familiar ever since the Glenmont game against Alleghany our freshman year catapulted him to local fame. The county newspaper the following morning featured a full page spread, heralding him as Alleghany’s saving grace after they’d resigned themselves to another four years of frustration.
I don’t see Alleghany’s quarterback when I look at him now, though. At the twinkling blue eyes and the ruffled light brown hair.
They’re right there, those three words. On the tip of my tongue.
“Let’s go inside,” I say instead.
Being alone with Wes in the cabin suddenly seems less dangerous than staying in his car. We both get fully dressed, and then slide out of his car and head to the front door of the cabin. I study the structure closely for the first time.
I’m normally too eager to see Wes to take in the scenery, although I’ve spent dozens of hours sitting right in front of it over the past couple months.
The cabin is small. Welcoming. Rather than traditional logs, the exterior of it is constructed from vertical boards of wood. The planks are weathered from years of exposure to the elements. A small fire pit sits to the right of the front door, and directly behind it is the outside shell of a massive brick fireplace.
I follow Wes up the two front steps, shivering. Now that we’ve left the wind shelter of his car, the icy gale rips through the cotton material of my sweatshirt with no barrier to block it.
Wes unlocks the front door and flicks on the lights. I step on top of a striped, multi-colored rug, glancing around the living room curiously. An overstuffed, plush couch stretches almost the full length of the room, facing the massive fireplace that takes up most of the wall. A small coffee table sits between the couch and fireplace, the surface littered with old magazines and well-worn paperbacks. There’s a dark green wood stove sitting in the corner.
The floor plan is open, so I can see past the couch into the kitchen, with a small eating nook off to one side. A sliding door leads to a screened porch that juts off from the wall of the cabin, overlooking the woods that separate it from the lake.
“I like it,” I tell Wes, smiling.
He grins back. “Yeah, I loved coming here as a kid. I used to beg my parents for a bunk bed back in the city the same way I had here.”
“How come your uncle doesn’t come here anymore?” I ask.
Wes shrugs. “I’m pretty sure my mom told him about the affairs. Or he found out somehow. He and my dad never got along, but things have been especially tense the past couple of years. They’ve barely spent any time here since the summer after our freshman year.”
“They?”
“My uncle, aunt, and cousin. He’s the one who threw that party we first talked at.”
