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“Get changed. Then we can talk.” He walks away, saying nothing more. I shut the door and struggle out of my wet clothes. I shamelessly sniff Easton’s shirt as I bring it over my head. Moaning at his signature scent, I slide it over my chest. His shirts were always so soft. Even my nipples perk at the feel of it. I step into his sweatpants, and when I look in the mirror again, I’m reminded of a girl from a long time ago. One who would wake up in one of Easton’s oversized shirts wearing the biggest smile.
Pushing down the nostalgia, I shake off the memory and clean my face. When I feel somewhat more presentable, I walk to the living room. Easton is seated by the fire with a glass of bourbon.
“When do you think the phones will be back up?”
“Not sure. Depends on how long the blizzard lasts. Then how long it takes the city to clean the road for the power company.”
“That doesn’t sound like it’ll be a quick fix.”
“Probably ’cause it isn’t.”
I could cry all over again. I cover my face. “Fuck!”
“Why you here, Cal?”
I lower my hands and say, “I can ask you the same thing. Last I checked, you were inmycabin.”
His laughter is anything but humorous. “Say again?”
“I know it’s been a couple years. Did you go deaf during that time?”
“I can hear just fine, babe—”
“Don’tcallme that,” I hiss.
He shoots from his chair and invades my personal space. “Seeing that you’re inmycabin, I can call you whatever I want.”
“In what alternate universe do you think I would willingly show up at your cabin?”
“This one, since you’re in it.”
My rage returns. Putting my kill plan on hold for Tory and Ashley, I aim it at Easton. “Wow, still full of yourself, I see. And why would you think I would ever want to see you again?”
“To apologize for starters.”’
Easton has always been a live-on-the-edge kinda guy. But this is going overboard. Because he isaskingme to murder him. “You—you thinkIneed to apologize?”
“For starters. Then you can tell me why you’re here—”
“I’m here because I rented this place! It’s mine! So you can get out ofmycabin, you arrogantasshole!”
I don’t have time to react. Easton’s arm hooks around my waist, and I’m pulled into him. His scent assaults my nostrils. At the same time, his breath skates across my cheek, and his voice whispers against my earlobe. “Look around, sweetheart. This is my cabin. Now, stop with the excuses and tell me why you’re here.”
He stares down at me, his normally bright eyes darken in intensity. They drop to my lips, and I suck in a breath. I need to push him off me. Punch him. Claw his face off. But I can’t seem to break our stare. He watches my mouth as I suck in my bottom lip, wetting it. Suddenly, the feel of him, his hands touching me, is overwhelming. He dips his head, and I know he’s going to kiss me. He could never be around me and not claim my mouth. He leans closer still. I know I’ll regret this later, but my eyelids flutter, my lips part, and I wait for his kiss. But it never comes. Just as quickly, he releases me. I stumble, my eyes shooting open as he sits in his chair by the fire and slams his drink. “Whatever. Wouldn’t be the girl I remember if you weren’t hiding.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“Not mine to fuck anymore, Cal.” He leans forward, grabs the bottle, and pours a fresh drink.
“That’snothow I meant that—God, I hate you!”
“Then it seems we still have one thing in common.” He slams the drink, his eyes trained on me. I wonder if he’s watching my head grow in size as it prepares to explode.
“You know what. . .” That’s it. I stomp over to my boots, shove my feet into them, then grab my jacket. Throwing my purse and laptop bag over my shoulder, I snag the bottle of wine and toss open the front door. “Have a nice life. Or not, because I could care less what you do.”
I step outside, ignoring the bite in the air. I take a swig of the wine, then start my trek back to my car. The wind has picked up, and at least two more inches seem to be on the ground. “You’re fine. This is way better than being inside with that jerk.” Even though inside has heat. “You got this, Baker. You’ve endured worse.” I try to convince myself of that, but my toes are still numb from before, the damp boots not helping. I make it to the bend, and my teeth are already chattering. The snow is too high and thick, making walking almost impossible.
Each time I lift my leg, I exert too much energy. When I cross the bridge, I can barely see in front of me. “God. . .dammit!” I gasp and fall backward into the snow. Even if I take a small break, the car is too far. The weather is too bad. And I’m already a popsicle. “So, this is where I die,” I cry and lift the bottle to my mouth. I chug it while cursing the world and making vows. The first one is to haunt Tory and Ashley for eternity for this. “I was so close to landing that Winston and Fields account.” I sob between drinks. “That contract would have secured my rent for months. And God, all the evidence I’m leaving behind.”
