by Cindy Steel
“I did. Ask Matt.”
“What? No way. He would have told me.”
“I believe his exact words were, ‘you touch her, and I’ll kill you. And if she ever finds out, she’ll probably kill you, too.’”
I drew in my breath. I could hear Matt saying the words perfectly. The perks of having an overprotective twin brother.
“From his glowing recommendation, I gathered the feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated, so I just kept annoying you for attention. And you kept hating me, so we all won, I guess.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Would it have changed anything if you had?”
The cold and the heat underneath our blankets were beginning to be a doozy. It felt intimate to have a heart to heart conversation, when you are literally heart to heart. I couldn’t look at him any longer. I laid my head on his chest while he cleared his throat and rubbed his hand briskly over my arm to warm it.
It was already warm.
“I’m not sure,” I said into his chest. And I wasn’t sure. If I had known he liked me in high school, would that have changed me? Softened me toward him?
My feet and legs were still freezing, so I wheedled my way in between his legs, smiling slightly as he hissed when my cold feet touched his. Things were getting confusing. I needed to move, to break our contact and get up from his cozy body of warmth. I just couldn’t bring myself to care. I would care tomorrow when my brain wasn’t so foggy, and my eyes weren’t so heavy. When Chase’s arms weren’t locked around me so tight.
“Chase?” I asked, drowsy again and perhaps a bit lightheaded. Somehow, in my half-unconscious state, I had finally solved a puzzle that had been plaguing me since the day before.
“Yeah?” He mumbled, as if he were almost asleep.
“You lost with the Jack of Hearts yesterday.”
“Huh?”
“The Jack of Hearts was my throwaway card. You switched it out of the discard pile with one of your cards and let me win, didn’t you?”
There was a long pause, but then, in a faraway voice, he said, “sure doesn’t sound like something I’d do, Blister.”
I said no more, but my heart leapt into my throat as he pulled me closer, tucking me in with his arms and warming my body. Even the term Blister had somehow lost it’s sting. Tonight, falling from his lips, it almost sounded… endearing, sweet. To any onlooker from the window, this would have seemed like a scene for lovers. As I felt myself drift off to sleep, feeling the way his fingers rhythmically rubbed my arm, it was beginning to seem that way to me too.
* * *
It was still dark outside. I figured it was probably five or six in the morning, but there was no way to know because there was no way I was moving a muscle to do anything dumb, like check my phone, or the clock, or to pee. If I moved, then this would all go away, and I quite enjoyed the sound of Chase’s deep and steady breathing in my ear. He even mumbled in his sleep once, and it was the most adorable thing.
Oh geez, the next few days needed to go fast. I had to get out of there. The cabin was feeling much too cozy. Even my thoughts toward Chase had been much more generous and forgiving than they had ever been before.
Look, here’s the thing—there’s nothing to forgive between Chase and I. It was all a long time ago. I’ve moved on. I’ve dated plenty. I’ve gained confidence in my talents and abilities, and even (for the most part) my looks. At least before I found myself stuck in a cabin with Chase Riley.
Even though I know we were both in junior high, and the comment was probably meaningless, I’d be lying to myself if I said I hadn’t thought about it since.
She looks like my dog, but not as hot.
So childish. So middle school. So dumb.
So not something you ever forget.
That’s the thing about middle school. It stays with you. Sometimes, it’s stuck in that unconscious part of your brain. Sometimes, you don’t hear from it for a while. Sometimes, you thought you’d forgotten, but during a moment of doubt, it was the first comment in my head.
That moment changed me.
Instead of striving for beauty like the rest of my friends, that was the day I decided to become funny. Witty. Snarky. If I couldn’t be beautiful, being funny was the next best thing. I had dedicated my entire life to being self-deprecating and sarcastic. To let others know that I knew I wasn’t pretty, but that it was okay, because I was the one who made them laugh. Soon after, junior high faded into high school. I saw less and less of Chase, as he became immersed into the sports scene.
Then, something unexpected happened. Matt joined the golf team. He and Chase were put together as partners, and hit it off. Middle school had been tough, but through it all, I had Matt. My twin. He was always there, and when he was there, that meant we were together. A team. But then suddenly, he had friends I didn’t have, joined a sport I wasn’t involved in, and went to parties I was never invited to. At first, he would ask if I wanted to go, but I knew who else would be in the car and I declined every time. After a while, he stopped asking. I took a quieter, more behind the scenes route at the school newspaper. There, my snark and wittiness paid off, and soon I was writing a weekly column detailing the daily life of a student.
Our junior year, Matt joined the football team as well, thanks to Chase’s influence. Then, I couldn’t avoid Chase because he was always in my home. If sports jokes and niceness was Matt’s thing, snark and wit became mine. Chase gave as much as he took, which led to some interesting movie nights in our living room. At that point, I had discovered that if I wanted to keep my brother and I close, I would have to endure a few football parties at my house every week. And to be honest, I found myself having a nice time, more often than not. Not that I would have admitted that to anyone.
The newspaper column got me a full ride scholarship to college and became a great platform for my life as a writer. So, there was a lot of good in my life that stemmed from that one little comment.
But all of a sudden, here I was, once again, awkward and unsure. A couple of nights locked in a cabin with Chase and I discovered that the small crack of insecurity in my foundation never really went away. It got covered up and forgotten, but at the cabin I had to face it. I had to face him.
Now, I’m left wondering who has cracks in their foundation from a thoughtless comment made by me?
My pride had been stung by this boy a long time ago. I bit back with humor and verbal jabs, which had always suited our tepid relationship just fine. It was all a game to him, and while he knew nothing of the real reason behind it, it hid something much deeper for me.
But that morning, I found myself awake, and for the first time since I arrived at the cabin, my body wasn’t shaking with cold. My skin felt smooth in the absence of goosebumps. My head lay nestled in that perfect spot on a man’s arm. His hand covered mine as it lay pressed against his chest. The soft rhythm of his breathing lifted our hands up and down, while one of my legs was thrown carelessly around his. All of this was wrapped neatly inside a large, flannel blanket.
At great risk to his own well-being, he had saved my life.
Chase Riley had saved my life. Now I lay next to this man, who once called me a dog, while he held me in his arms as if I were something precious.
And it’s making me second guess everything.
Chapter 9
We awoke on Thursday morning, coiled together like sleepy snakes. The fire had died sometime in the early morning. When I breathed, puffs of chilled, white air escaped my mouth. I lay with my head perched on Chase’s chest and my body nestled into his. I wasn’t sure if I was too embarrassed to make eye contact, or if I was too reluctant to move away from his heated body. Chase took a deep breath as he released my hand on his chest to rub his eyes for a moment.
My breath caught as the fingers on his hand that was curled against me, stroked my arm softly for just a second. Did he realize?
“You sure go through a lot of work just to sleep with me.”
I hit him on
the chest as he laughed. Chase gently disentangled our limbs and pulled back the cover of our blanket, as he jumped up to add more logs to the fire, a rush of frigid air taking his place.
Two days until Christmas. Two days until Chase had to leave the cabin. I would stay, awaiting Matt and Gina’s arrival. It all seemed too fast. We had just gotten on friendly terms and soon he had to leave.
Chase touched the light switch and looked over at me and said, “fingers crossed.” He flipped the switch and to our surprise, the bulb flickered on, brightening the room with a hazy, yellow hue.
“Guess we aren’t going to starve today,” Chase said, as he wandered toward the hallway. “And I’m turning on the heat in all the rooms.”
I stretched my sore limbs before standing up. I don’t know why my body still felt so tired. My eyes squinted at the clock in the kitchen. Eight in the morning. I had slept for nearly fourteen hours. Did nearly drowning and being saved by a hot guy from hypothermia cause fatigue? I heard Chase step into the bathroom and turn the shower on while I started folding up the blankets that were strewn all over the floor. Either way, a little physical distance between Chase and I was probably a good thing at this point. I had basically used him as a human pillow all night, and enjoyed every minute of it.
I switched the laundry and flitted about the cabin, tidying up. Or told myself that’s what I was doing. I just wanted to be busy, or at least look busy so that when Chase emerged and I had to face him again, he might not be able to tell how much the night before had affected me.
I did inventory on our supplies. We had two large potatoes, one package of bacon, four eggs, a few granola bars, some oatmeal packets, hot chocolate, and half a refrigerator filled with fresh caught fish. When a fully dressed and delicious smelling Chase walked into the kitchen, I was proud to have something useful to report to him. Maybe if I talked about fish all the time, it would keep my mind from wandering back to his warm chest and light touch.
We were both sick of fish. Well, I was always sick of fish, but this time, even Chase admitted he wasn’t feeling it that day. Since neither of us wanted to expose ourselves to the memories of the place that nearly killed us the day before, we seemed to form some sort of silent agreement that neither of us would be venturing outside for our food.
“Would you like to share some of my bacon?” I asked, lightening the mood. The gleaming, annoyed look he shot me made the whole comment worth it.
That was the beginning of our new dance.
Two steps forward, one step back. Cha-cha-cha. The back and forth between the awkward and the familiar. Snark and sweet. Bold and timid. We had tread upon new ground the night before, and neither of us had found our steady footing. New territory was yet to be discovered. We now knew it was there, within reach, we just hadn’t found it yet.
In the middle of mundane tasks, like washing dishes or tidying up—our gazes would meet with sheepish smiles. Over and over it happened, until I was a bundle of nerves, and very much aware of how awkward my hands were. Even walking became difficult when I felt his eyes on me. At the table, eating our bowls of petrified oatmeal and two slices of bacon, his legs had brushed against mine… twice.
What was happening? It was Chase Riley for heaven’s sake.
All to myself.
Chase, for his part, remained a charming tease, but kept his distance. Well, as much distance as a nine hundred square foot cabin could afford.
Probably for the best.
* * *
It turned out the power was dancing too. It went back off after breakfast and flickered on and off throughout the rest of the day. We had granola bars and milk for lunch. Around dinner time, our growling stomachs kept us near the kitchen to be ready to fry up some fish if we had the chance. It didn’t necessarily sound good to me, but it was a hot meal, and warmth was something I craved.
We had spent a quiet day together. Chase lounged on the couch, reading a book he’d found at the cabin, while I spent time curled up in the easy chair, writing. I hadn’t planned on staying there all day, I usually did my best writing in my room, alone. But the warmth of the fire drew me like a bear to honey. I had Chase’s freshly washed sweatpants with my tank top, paired with his large sweatshirt. I also wore a pair of his socks, and I had never been cozier.
The words poured out of me.
Near 6:00pm, the lights flickered on and off for almost a minute before finally staying on. We waited a few moments, staring at the lights, making certain. After a minute of no flickers, we raced into the kitchen. Chase grabbed the frying pan and began heating it up, while I rummaged through the stinky piles of dead fish carcasses for our dinner. I grabbed the two smallest ones I could find.
“I’m glad to see your taste in food is improving,” Chase said. He reached out to grab the fish wrapped in foil that I held out to him, our fingers brushing on contact.
“Desperate times.” I replied, bumping him with my hip as I stood next to him at the stove. He placed the fish on the hot pan, it sizzling and popping against the heat.
“That smells like death.”
Chase grinned as he put his arm around my shoulders, drawing me in close. “I love your sweet talk.”
We fried the fish up in the small kitchen, amid accidental brushing, nudging, and teasing. I believe there was even a wink thrown around in the ring. All through dinner, my heart was in a constant state of flutter. Anticipation swelled in my breast at every touch. At the table, we sat corner to corner, our legs brushing and even kicking at times, as we laughed, ate our fish, and drank our hot chocolate. My nerves made the food wonderfully tasteless in my mouth. My heart was flying first into battle, while my head was trying to reason with it; attempting more caution.
I felt Chase’s eyes on me. I looked up and met his gaze, pushing a strand of my hair back behind my ear as I did so.
“Popcorn and a movie?” he asked.
I smiled. “Yeah.”
Caution, caution, caution, my head warned. My stubborn heart willfully ignored the plea.
Soon, the fishy smell of the cabin was overpowered by popcorn and butter. For all the cabin didn’t have, we were elated to find an air popper and a bag of kernels in the laundry room, earlier that day. I thanked the heavens that we had found a stray stick of butter in the back of the fridge. I wasn’t going to think about how long it could have been there. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and I was feeling quite grateful that night. As we rummaged through the eclectic shelves stuffed full of videocassette tapes, the air between us was pinging.
Electric.
Both of us were feeling in the Christmas mood and we settled on ‘It’s a Wonderful Life.’ Chase plopped down on the left side of the couch, while I rewound the tape in the tape rewinder before pushing it inside the VCR.
“Good thing my grandma had a VHS player at her house growing up, or we might have never figured this out,” I said.
“I knew being in a cabin with a grandma in training would come in handy this week.”
A comment like that, I could not abide by. Grabbing the popcorn bowl off the table, I stepped over his feet that were propped up on the coffee table, ignored his motioning for me to sit by him, and sat on the complete opposite end of the couch.
“What the?”
I looked over at him and met his playful affront with my stare.
“You take all my clothes and then you sit clear over there? With the popcorn bowl?”
“I’ve seen you eat popcorn, I think I should get a few minutes head start.”
Chase smiled, shook his head, and turned toward the TV when the movie began to start.
A few minutes later, I looked over to Chase, shivering on his side of the couch. Dramatically, I might add.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him, feeling a bit suspicious.
He looked over at me, a teasing gleam in his eye. “I’m freezing. How are you?”
I dropped my blanket and got up off the couch, sauntering toward him. He stopped shivering immediately, anticipatio
n warming his eyes as he watched me approach. And then… I kept walking to the other side of the TV and grabbed the brown ratty cabin blanket. I hit him with it as I walked by him, once again settling down on my side of the couch, amid his deep chuckle.
* * *
Throughout the first half of the movie, I was aware of movement to the left of me. Chase was constantly getting up to grab a drink, use the bathroom, or refill his popcorn bowl. It wasn’t until George Bailey had married his Mary, that I realized he was now only an arm’s length away from me.
I eyed him suspiciously out of the corner of my eye. He seemed intent on the movie, mindlessly eating popcorn, same as me. Confused, I turned my attention back to the movie. Had he been clear on the other side of the couch? Maybe he hadn’t been as far as I thought?
Chase stood up again, walking to the kitchen and filled his cup by the sink. When he turned back around, his eyes scanned the room and landed on mine before I jolted and focused my attention back on the TV.
Except, now there was no way I could focus on what was in front of me, when to the side of me all I could see was the blur of Chase walking closer. Seriously, was he walking in slow motion? My heart had pulses all over my body. I slunk down ever so slightly into the couch, pulling the blanket up higher as he settled back down on the couch next to me. His arm and leg brushed against mine, sending fire racing from my head to my fingertips.
My gaze was fixed on the movie, even when I felt him turn and look at me. I couldn’t look. I couldn’t acknowledge it. Him. He stared blatantly, for so long that my mouth betrayed me, and even my attempt to bite my lip couldn’t keep the smile from forming; along with two heated spots of color in my cheeks, and my rapidly beating heart.
I felt his smile before he turned his attention back to the TV.
A few moments later, my blanket was being tugged across my lap.
