Anyway, I still had a ways to go on being kinder to myself, but I figured I’d made a good start.
And I knew our family situation was going to be weird for a while, but shouldn’t we give it a shot? Didn’t we owe it to ourselves to at least try and see? Because if we moved forward, maybe I could have all this and more. The friendship and the laughter along with the passion.
It still seemed too good to be true.
The snow only seemed to get worse the closer we got. Bash had slowed the truck down to a snail’s pace, inching along the road.
I noticed Bash’s white knuckles against the dark steering wheel. I reached over and put my hand on his knee, wanting to quietly let him know that I was here and knew that he could do this. He glanced at my hand, then at me, but said nothing as he turned his attention back to the road.
Bash’s phone announced that he should turn right, and we went up a snow-covered hill. We fishtailed once or twice, but then we heard the message saying that we had arrived. I noticed that there were no lights on just as he said, “There’s no other cars here.”
I didn’t see a garage, and he was right; I didn’t see Ximena’s Jeep. She might have parked somewhere else. “Maybe we can’t see it. Let’s get inside and you can meet everyone,” I said. I knew all of my roommates were going to love the chance to spend time getting to know Bash better. Especially since I’d shared so little about him, but they’d all seen that kiss.
“Awesome. I would love to have the chance to be judged by your friends.”
Shaking my head, I grabbed my bag and we both ran through the quickly accumulating snow to the front porch, which was covered, protecting us from the heavy snowfall. I knocked. Then again. There was no doorbell, but I did notice the lock with a keypad. I punched in 4155 and heard the deadbolt automatically turn. I opened the door.
“Hello?” I called out. I stamped my feet on the front entry rug and hung my wet coat on the coatrack. Bash flipped on the overhead light and headed toward the back of the cabin. I went upstairs, thinking maybe they’d just parked out of sight, or someplace we hadn’t noticed, and somehow all decided to go to bed even though it was still early in the evening.
All of the bedrooms were empty.
I came back downstairs and found Bash in the kitchen. “It looks like somebody stocked the place up. We’ve got plenty of food,” he said.
“They’re not here. They left hours before me. This makes me worried.” I sat down at the dining table and tapped my fingers against it. “Do you have Felix’s number? He used to date Deja. I bet he knows her phone number.”
“I don’t, but I can get it. Logan probably has it.” He set down the package of deli meat he had in his hands and started texting. After a few minutes he said, “Got it.”
He handed me his phone, and I called Deja.
She answered. “Hello?”
“Deja, it’s Ember. I’m at the cabin. Where are you guys?”
“You’re at the cabin? Didn’t you get any of my texts or voice mails?”
I explained that I had accidentally destroyed my cell phone.
“We decided to call off the trip this afternoon because Molly checked the forecast. What?” she said, her voice sounding more muffled. “Molly says that her uncle brought by some food this morning. When we told him we weren’t going to come, he left it there in case we changed our minds or wanted to come up later.”
Bash was in the middle of making himself a massive sandwich. “Yeah, we found it.”
“We?” Deja repeated.
“Bash drove me up, and I’m not sure he should try to get out of here.”
“Oh, no. Not until tomorrow, at least. The storm is supposed to be really bad.”
“Yeah, we saw it. It’s not great.”
“I don’t know, being stranded in a log cabin with a hot man doesn’t sound like a bad way to spend an evening to me,” she said. “He should definitely stay until the roads get cleared. Which will take hours and hours and hours. I guess you’ll just have to find a way to fill that time.”
“Okay!” I said, conscious of the fact that Bash was standing right there and Deja’s voice tended to carry. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow, I guess. Bye.”
I hung up and then stood to bring the phone back to him. He was looking out of the window above the kitchen sink. “It is really bad,” he commented.
“Yeah, Deja was saying that’s why they decided not to come. Which they tried to tell me, but I had my phone turned off to take my test and then I broke it, so . . . here we are.”
“Here we are.” He turned around, facing me and leaning against the sink, his arms propped up behind him on the counter.
“She, um, she also said that we’d have to wait the storm out. So you’ll, you know, need to stay here tonight.”
“Not a problem. I’m going to go look for a thermostat and see if I can get the heat going.”
He brushed past me, and my nerves jolted awake, anxious to be touched by him again. I wandered back into the front living room. All of the walls were a light wood color, and the vaulted ceiling went up at least two stories. I guessed the giant windows usually had an incredible view, but right now all I could see was a wall of white.
I went over to the fireplace in the corner. There were some logs in it, including one of those fake ones where you lit the paper on the outside and it burned. I had never operated a wood-burning fireplace before, and I hoped there wasn’t anything to it. There were matches on the mantel, and I used them to start a fire. If this place didn’t have a heater, at least we could warm up this one room.
And maybe you’ll have to snuggle to conserve body heat, my overactive imagination suggested.
Bash returned just as I’d settled down onto the oversize, comfy couch that faced the fireplace. “I turned the heat on. At least we won’t freeze tonight.”
He sat down next to me, his arm along the back of the couch, almost touching me.
“I thought you were going to get something to eat,” I said, watching the flames dance.
“I’d rather be here with you.”
He was choosing me over food? That felt profound. Deep in a way I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around. The look in his eyes made my breath catch, my heart sputter.
This was it. This was the time to tell him.
“Bash, I think we should talk. It’s important.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EMBER
“Is it about the global water crisis?” he asked jokingly.
“What? No. I mean, that’s important, but that’s not . . .” I let out a deep breath. It had been difficult to change my mind-set. I’d spent so long thinking of myself in one way, the way I had mistakenly believed he saw me. It would have been nice if once I found out the truth I could have just snapped my fingers and felt differently about my body image. When I’d asked him for time and space, I had really needed it. To not only process the information he’d given me but mostly to try and figure out a way to be happy with myself, regardless of what anybody else thought. “I think I’ve taken the time that I needed, and I’m ready now. To have the conversation that we need to have.”
His lack of reaction surprised me. No smile, no sparkle in his eye, no reaching for me to pull me into a scorching kiss. Instead he just . . . looked at me.
I suddenly felt very stupid. “I mean, if you’ve changed your mind and don’t feel the same, I get it, but . . .” I let my voice trail off, not sure what I intended to say next. Because I didn’t want to walk away. I didn’t want to lose the chance of us before we’d even begun.
There were several more awkward moments before he said, “You know, I think I finally understand how my parents felt about doing drugs.”
Of all the things I thought he might say in response to my statement, that one hadn’t even charted. “What?”
“You’re like an addiction for me. Only it’s not just physical, it’s in my soul. In my heart. I want you constantly. I want you in my bed, in my life, al
l the time. It feels like there’s never a point in time where I don’t think about you. Want to kiss you. Hold you. Wake up next to you. I want to tell you every stupid thing that happens in my day. When something makes me laugh, the first thing I think is ‘I can’t wait to tell Ember.’”
His words were like fire, only they burned inside of me. His gaze captured mine, making it impossible to look away. My heart thudded, slow and hard.
“There’s something I haven’t told you. Something I should have told you a long time ago. When our parents got married, my dad sat me down. He must have seen how I felt about you because he warned me to stay away from you. He didn’t want me to break up his new relationship with your mom. He said that unless I could see you and me as a couple for the next thirty years of family get-togethers at Christmas, that I should leave you alone.”
I was surprised by the hot tears that suddenly clouded my vision. “And you can’t see that.”
He reached forward, lacing his fingers through mine. He shook his head. “E, no. That’s the problem. I can see the next seventy Christmases with you. I can see forever when I look in your eyes.”
I didn’t know what to say. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Forever? And instead of this information easing my tears, it gave them permission to run free, spilling down my cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he murmured, leaning close to wipe the tears away with his free hand. “That’s the last thing I want.”
He reached his hands out tentatively, looking at me for permission. I nodded, and he drew me to him, holding me tight. I laid my head on his broad shoulder, feeling like I was finally where I belonged. I put my arms around his chest and let myself melt against him.
He began to say words against my scalp, causing a tingling sensation. “You’re right here, and it’s like I haven’t been allowed to say or do what I want. It seems so unfair. I try so hard to be good and to do the right thing and keep my dad’s rules and Coach’s rules, and the one thing, the one thing I want more than any other, I’m not supposed to have. I don’t want to destroy our parents’ lives. Or Lauren and Marley’s. But the thing is . . .” He let out a deep sigh, his warm breath stirring my hair. He put his hand under my chin, lifting it up so that I was staring deeply into his dark-green eyes. “The thing is, E, I love you. Always have.”
My heart burst, fizzing and bubbling inside of me, filling my veins with unbearable lightness and hope. Bash had just said he loved me. The darker, insecure part of me wanted to dismiss his words, to count them as lies. But I could see the truth of his words in his eyes. “Are you serious?” It was the only thing I could think to ask. I had to know.
He stroked the side of my face with his fingers. “I’m so serious. This is why I left. Not because I wasn’t attracted to you, which, I would like to point out again, I was and still am, but because I was in love with you, and I knew it would wreck everything. And my dad had been sad for so long, and he was finally happy again, and I didn’t want to be the reason that fell apart.”
“You put your dad’s happiness above your own.” That was exactly the kind of thing Bash would do.
“I did. Now I realize that I also put his happiness above yours, and that was wrong.” He leaned in and pressed a soft but blazing kiss against my cheek. “I’ve regretted it every day since.”
I put my hand against his chest, leaning back. “We were young. It wasn’t wrong of you to want to protect your father. Trust me, of anyone, I understand that. But why didn’t you say anything before?”
“What could I say? How could I explain this? I don’t know that I understood all my motivations until recently, when I forced myself to look at what I’d done and why. You of all people know that I’m all about avoiding a problem and pretending that it doesn’t exist and it’s not something I need to deal with. All I can say is that at the time, I thought I was making the right choice. But I know now that I didn’t just martyr myself. I hurt you and what you thought of us and of yourself.”
“I’m working on it,” I told him. “I’m trying to see me the way that you see me.”
“It’s still hard for me to fathom how you can believe that you aren’t perfect. I would love nothing more than to worship every inch of you.” His words sent a spike of fiery heat straight through my core, and breathing suddenly became something I’d forgotten how to do. His hands began to wander. “I love the swell of your hips, the indentation of your waist, your stomach and the way you tremble when I brush my fingers there.” As if to prove his point, he ran his fingertips under the hem of my shirt, then along the skin of my stomach, and just as he predicted, I did tremble.
Then he ducked his head, planting a kiss against my stomach. The trembling turned to miniquakes, even though he had kissed me on top of my shirt, and even though I technically couldn’t feel the warmth of his lips, I still felt it. Everywhere.
He lifted his gaze, holding me captive. He explored my face with his lips, speaking softly to me as he did so. “I love your hair, how silky it is against my skin. I love the softness and slope of your neck. I love the curve of your ear. I am ridiculously in love with your lips. With how warm they are, how they feel pressed against mine. And I am also a fan of everything south of them.”
As shivers raced around my skin, I let out a laugh of delight, unable to believe that this was happening. That Bash loved me.
I realized that I hadn’t told him I felt the same and was filled with the need to let him know he wasn’t alone in this. “You know, my other theory about why you left that night was because I told you I loved you.”
“You loved me, past tense?” He went still. “Do you still love me?”
How could he even wonder? “Yes. I still love you. I can’t remember what it was like not to love you.” Over the years I had sometimes worried that I always would, that there would never be room in my heart for anyone else.
He kissed me, nipping at my bottom lip. “That’s kind of important to share.”
I let my fingers run through his hair, dragging my fingernails across his scalp. He shuddered, and his reaction did crazy things to my stomach. “I didn’t tell you sooner because I thought you didn’t feel the same way about me. You never said it before.”
The scruff of his chin gently rubbed against my jawline, and I sighed at the feeling. “I know. I should have. But I knew once I told you, that would be it. There would be no going back for me.”
“Going back?”
He pressed a kiss on the top of my nose. “You can’t unring a bell. If we cross this boundary, we can’t uncross it.”
Boundary? What boundary? Did he mean the boundary that was so far behind me I was now on a different continent? I was ready to scale any mountain, swim any body of water, crawl through any swamp if it meant being with him.
But I had to ignore my gut reaction and listen to what he was saying. “You’re right. And I’m willing to cross some lines, but maybe the best thing for us to do right now is to go really slowly. I want us to be a hundred percent sure that we’re making the right decision first.”
“How slow?”
“Really slow. Like maybe we keep it to mostly kissing.” Not that I wanted to, but he already muddied my senses and made it difficult to think of anything else just by kissing me. Upping the difficulty factor would only make the situation worse.
I felt his smile against my lips. He kissed me lightly, teasing, and it was all I could do not to grab him out of frustration. But that would be one mixed signal. “That . . . is going to be really difficult.”
“I believe in you. Go team!” I said weakly, my bones liquefying from another one of his gentle, light kisses.
“For you, I think I could do anything.” This time I got a lingering kiss, one that didn’t satisfy me but only whet my appetite for more. “Do you know that kissing you is better than jumping out of a plane?” he asked before he kissed me again.
“Everything is better than jumping out of a plane, so I don’t know that that’s much of a complimen
t.”
As I said those words against his lips, he chuckled, which I took as an opportunity to explain my slow position. “Anything could happen. Maybe it doesn’t work out between us, and it’s awkward for a little while. It can’t be any worse than you moving to another state just to avoid me. This is part of being mature, right? We can agree that no matter what happens, we’ll still be civil and get along. For me personally, I think having sex would make moving on too hard. And I know I’m not supposed to freak out about the future and go on all our dates at once in my head. I’m not trying to see the end before the beginning, because we don’t know where this will go.”
“E, I know exactly where this is going. But I’m willing to play it the way that you want to. Anything, if I can be with you.”
Again, his words thrilled me, shooting little quivers of desire through me. He had one of his hands on the side of my face, holding me while he gently planted kisses up and down the side of my throat. He was making it very hard to think. But there was at least one more thing we needed to talk about.
“Putting how we feel aside,” I said, pushing at his chest so that he would sit up and look at me and stop tempting me with his fiery touch, “we also need to recognize that things haven’t changed. Your dad still wants you to stay away from me, and my mom is determined to make you feel welcome at your home so that you’ll go back more, and she enlisted me to help. To be a good stepsister. She would not be happy if she knew we were dating. Freaking out would be an understatement. How are we supposed to overcome that?”
“We don’t need to tell them anything while you and I figure this out.”
“I . . .” I couldn’t even say that I didn’t want to lie to her because I had lied to my mother lots where Bash had been concerned. My reasons for doing so had always seemed valid. Was this really any different? “It feels wrong to do that. I don’t want you to be my dirty little secret.”
Just a Boyfriend Page 21
