by Lucy Lennox
But it didn’t matter because just like that, his smirk was gone and was replaced with an intense scowl as he turned to climb the few stairs into his own place as if there was no such thing as ice and the idea of helping a neighbor up from a near-death slip-and-fall was unheard of.
“Gee thanks, asshole,” I muttered, as I used the rail to right myself.
He turned back to face me before opening his front door.
“Did you say something?”
“Yes, I said I hope your day is moving along swimmingly, you sweet, sweet considerate neighbor. How lucky I am to have landed in such a nice, welcoming place. Now go on back inside and get warm before your front porch attacks you the way mine did me. Cheers!” My words came out in the overly friendly polite voice I’d honed over years of trying to kill people with kindness. I’d learned early on that acting like a harmless, panting puppy dog was more likely to keep me safe than if I let my true feelings show. Once I realized people thought of models as vapid, empty vessels, I’d discovered giving them what they expected was easier than trying to change their perceptions.
Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, but I ignored him and took a step toward my front door.
And immediately lost my footing.
This time even the porch rail couldn’t save me. I hit the corner railing post hard as I went down in an ungraceful heap. I couldn’t stifle my cry as pain shot through my hip.
“Shit!” I heard someone yell.
No, not someone… the insensitive sex god who would likely burst into laughter again at any second. This time I had no interest in seeing him smile or watching his eyes light up with humor.
I turned to tell him to go fuck himself, because let’s face it, there was a time for sugary-sweet politeness and a time for saying it like it was, and I was definitely at the latter point. But before I could say anything, Jake called out, “Are you hurt?”
I didn’t even have time to answer before he dumped the wood as if it was infested with fire ants. After bolting across the two snow-covered lawns, he slid to a stop next to me on the porch.
“Where does it hurt?” His voice had taken on an urgent, concerned tone, and I couldn’t help but notice my heart rate kick up.
Boo dropped into a crouch and growled angrily at him. I reached out to calm her with a hand on her sweater.
“My hip,” I said as I tried to shift my body to take some of the pressure off the pained joint. My eyes fell on my Vans. “Stupid shoes. I think I need to get some of those clodhoppers you have,” I said, nodding toward his ugly-ass boots. They looked like what I imagined mythical snow tires looked like if, indeed, there was such a thing.
Jake glanced at my shoes with a frown. “Why the hell are you wearing smooth-soled shoes? Don’t you know how to dress for the cold? Where are you from?”
His hands gently assessed my joints, starting at my feet and moving up to my ankle and knee. I shivered, but not from the cold. I was actually suddenly warm.
Very warm.
“New York. And, yes, I know how to dress for the cold,” I managed to get out as my body began responding in a very inconvenient way to Jake’s gentle touch. “But back home we use this thing called salt. It helps keep surfaces from getting so slick.”
“We use salt here too, Oz.” The sound of my name on his tongue did funny things to my insides. “But in order for it to work, you have to actually scatter it around.” His eyes looked from my slick steps to me and back before I realized what he was implying.
“Oh. There’s not someone who does that for us?”
“No, Oz. There’s not. You kind of have to take care of yourself around here. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
I hated the humiliation that went through me at his words. “You’re absolutely right, Jake,” I said, forcing a smile to my mouth that I wasn’t feeling. “How silly of me. Thank you for pointing out the error of my thinking.”
Jake’s eyes flipped up to mine and I saw them flash with confusion for a moment. “Oz, I’m sorr—” At that exact moment, his hands reached my hip and I couldn’t help but wince.
“Fuck,” I whimpered, interrupting him. Not that it mattered–his apology meant shit. I knew what he thought of me. It was what most people thought of me. Explaining to him that I’d spent my entire adult life in a world where things like spreading your own salt and knowing that snow tires weren’t just a button you pushed, weren’t even something you had to think about, was a waste of time. He’d see what he wanted to see. So I focused on getting him out of there. “That’s the spot I landed on. I think it’ll be fine if you can just help me up, please?”
Jake hesitated a moment and looked like he wanted to say something.
But then he reached out to grab me under the arms to help me stand.
Once he got me to my feet, we stood there for a moment, our bodies nearly touching. He was considerably larger than me. Unlike most models, my shorter stature hadn’t ever been an issue. I guessed that Jake had a good four inches on me and outweighed me by thirty to forty pounds.
“Your hair,” Jake suddenly whispered as his eyes skimmed my features.
I self-consciously reached for my hair, but the long locks hadn’t magically grown back overnight. It wasn’t that I missed my hair or the platinum shade of blond so many designers had gone crazy over… it was more what my short and now very brown hair represented.
Starting over.
Being someone else.
Accepting that for the first time since I’d walked my first runway, I might not succeed… that I might just be a one-hit wonder. A pretty face and nothing more.
“Oh, um, I cut it… and colored it. Just needed a change, I guess. You don’t… you don’t like it?” I asked.
What the hell? Why did I ask him that? I didn’t care if he liked it or not.
“No,” Jake said with a shake of his head. “I mean yes, I do… it’s… I do,” he murmured. I stilled when his hand lifted as if he were going to touch my hair.
That was the exact moment that my princess of a dog turned into a raging loon because Boo went nuts before Jake could touch me again. She growled and yipped and then jumped right at his crotch. Luckily, Jake didn’t release me because his arm around my lower body was what was keeping me upright. I shook my finger at Boo.
“Boo! No! Bad girl! We don’t touch the nice man’s package.”
I looked up at him, feeling my face flush. “I mean… unless he wants us to.”
Shit, had I said that out loud?
I knew that I had when I saw his face. You’d have thought I’d suggested whoring him out to the Queen of England. He jerked his hands back from me and mumbled something about me being fine with a little ibuprofen and an ice pack.
I clung to the porch rail to keep myself from falling again as he hurried back to his place. He disappeared into his cabin, leaving the haphazard collection of firewood all in a jumble on the floor of his front porch and not sparing me even one backward glance.
I stared after him, wondering what the hell his problem was. Was it typical straight-guy heebie-jeebies? I sure as hell hoped not. With the two of us isolated so far out here on our own, it would really suck if he was a homophobe.
After narrowing my eyes at Boo for scaring off the sexy eye-candy, I made my way stiffly inside. According to my laptop, I’d missed a video call from my best friend, Zoey. I texted her to let her know I’d call her back in a few minutes before making my way to the kitchen for the ice pack, pain meds, and a bottle of water. Once I was finally ready to call her back, I made my way past the two temporary folding tables I had set up as my makeshift sewing station. The cabin had come with some very simple furnishings, but I’d prefer finding much sturdier tables before really getting to work.
I settled onto the large sofa and pulled my favorite blanket around me before propping the laptop on my knees and starting the video call.
Zoey answered immediately, and just the sight of her wild, dark curls brought tears to my eyes.
I missed her already.
She was the closest person to me and the only one I trusted with my life. We’d met at my first agent’s office, and even though her career hadn’t taken off like mine, we’d been inseparable ever since. At least until recently.
“Hey, cutie pie,” she said with a big grin. Despite her smile, she looked tired. Because of the work travel I’d done right before my move and Zoey’s road trip to meet her boyfriend’s family, I hadn’t had a chance to see my BFF in person in a couple of months. Thank god she’d agreed to come spend Christmas with me.
“Hey, Zo-Zo-Bug,” I said back. “Tell me everything. I feel like I haven’t seen civilization in years.”
“Dude, seriously? You’ve been gone three days. I’m pretty sure all you’ve missed is me trimming my toenails. And oh my god, your hair! It’s so…”
“I know,” I said as I fingered the short strands.
Zoey must have picked up on what I wasn’t saying because she leaned toward the camera and whispered, “I love it, Oz. It’s so… you.”
I sighed and nodded my head. I looked around the cabin and confessed, “It’s really quiet here. I think time moves more slowly. It’s weird. It’s darker too. I didn’t know dark was actually… dark. Like really dark. And you should see the stars at night.”
“Oz, be careful with Boo, you know? I’ve heard wolves and coyotes and shit eat little dogs like that out there.”
I glanced over to where Boo stood on the back of a chair growling out the window in the direction of Jake’s cabin. Her white hair shot up in spikes around her head like a tiny lion’s mane. The fur trembled with the vibration of her rumble. She really didn’t like that guy.
“For some reason, I feel like she could handle herself,” I said with a laugh. “She’s one tough bitch. If she had her way, she’d have my sexy next-door neighbor by the throat right now… or points farther south.”
“Ooooh! Sexy neighbor, do tell!”
I could see Zoey’s familiar blue walls in the background and caught sight of the frog lamp I’d given her for her birthday a couple of years ago.
“Total hottie but total straightie,” I said with an exaggerated frown. “Which is good because I’m here to work,” I added, though I was likely trying to convince myself more than her.
“Nothing wrong with working by day and fucking by night, Ozias,” she teased.
“Nope. Not this time. I only have a couple of months to create a debut clothing line from scratch. If I want to show in NY Fashion Week, I have to have this stuff done by the end of January at the latest. God, it’s freezing in here. I can’t figure out how to get the damned heat to work right,” I muttered, reaching for another blanket.
“I get that you need to work, but you should take a little time to have some fun too. Tell me about the town. What’s Haven like?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not really sure yet. I fucked up my car before I even had a chance to see it. Now I’m scared to drive to town. If I don’t man up soon, I’m going to run out of food. No place delivers this far out.” While I knew whining was unattractive, I also knew Zoey was used to it from me when I was out of my comfort zone. I put on a good show around strangers, but my confidence was always in jeopardy when I was forced to try something new. I’d learned early on to not let people see you sweat it, though. Because then they’d pounce.
I’d learned that the hard way.
She sat up straight and leaned in toward her webcam. “Okay. Here’s the deal. I’m going to help you set goals. Enough sitting around being helpless—”
I couldn’t help but interrupt her. “I’m not fucking helpless. Take that back.”
“I know you don’t want to be helpless, so that’s why we’re setting goals. You have three things you need to accomplish tomorrow before you call to check in. The first is figuring out how to heat the cabin properly so you don’t die. That shit’s no joke. Second, you’re going to drive that new car of yours to town and stock up the fridge and pantry. Third, you’re going to find a cute boy in town and smile at him with your drop-dead smile. The one that earns you gazillions of dollars.”
“But, Zo… if I pull out my Laird face, someone might recognize me.” I flinched even as I said the stupid stage name my agent had stuck me with way back when. God, how the hell had I ever thought the name was mysterious and sexy? “I’m flying under the radar here, remember? No photos making their way to social media so no one comes bugging me to get back in front of the camera.”
Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. “No one will recognize you with that hair, Oz. Trust me. But, fine. We’ll change that last goal to making one new friend. Find someone who won’t know you’re a famous supermodel. Surely there are some old folks there who don’t read Vogue or drool over Armani ads. Strike up a conversation and remind yourself that just because you live by yourself in the woods doesn’t mean you can’t still interact with friendly people. You’re a people person, Oz. If you don’t find some people to chat with when you go into town, you’re going to get super down and depressed. Trust me. I’ve known you for years.”
“Not true. I’m actually looking forward to some time alone. It’s been crazy this past year with runway shows, photo shoots, music videos… I think it’ll be good for me to get some peace and quiet.”
Zoey did that fake cough laughing thing. “Remember when you got hired for the solo shoot in Kenya and hated the photographer? You swore you were going to treat the entire trip like a silent meditation retreat. How’d that work out for ya?”
I opened my mouth to argue with her but quickly closed it. “That guy was really hot,” I muttered. “And it wasn’t my fault he got off on dirty talk.”
“I’m not saying you need to talk the whole town’s ear off, babe. I just want you to remember who you are. Instead of just thinking this is your chance to become the best designer you’ve always wanted to be, why don’t you consider this as your chance to become the best you you’ve always wanted to be?”
I felt my stomach drop out. “You think I need to become some kind of better person?” I couldn’t help but have hurt feelings from her words. I’d always tried to be a good person–friendly, generous, kind.
“No, no. I’m not saying this right,” she said, waving her hands in frustration. “You’re the best person I know, Oz. But I think you’ve spent a lot of years adapting to a life you never really wanted. You always talk about how the people around you in the modeling community are shallow and always looking for the next big thing. You say it bothers you that people aren’t more genuine, more real. Here is your chance to interact with real people–people who couldn’t give a crap what color is hot for next year—”
“Purple,” I blurted. “And I want to die from happiness.”
I couldn’t help it. It was so true.
“Ozzie. I love you, and everyone who ever gets to know the real you loves you too. Please don’t hide the wonderful Ozias Lemuel Ballard from the world.”
I flashed angry eyes at her across the miles. “Don’t trot out the birth name. Two can play at that game.”
Her apple cheeks pinked as she laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. I guess I just don’t want to think of you so far away from me all alone out there. You know I’m just a phone call or text away, right?”
“I do. Same goes for you. Anything new on your end besides the toenail thing? That’s gross, by the way.”
Her smile was gone in a snap as if someone had shut the light off inside of her. Before I had a chance to ask about it, she faked another call.
“Ooop! That’s work calling, gotta go. Maybe start with the first goal on your list by asking Sexy Neighbor Man for help with the heat!”
Zoey disconnected the call so suddenly, I found myself staring at the blank screen with the angry retort still on the tip of my tongue.
I would ask the arrogant, conceited, homophobic, hot, smells really good, oh-so-sexy Jake for help when hell fucking froze over.
And five hours later when I ran out
of blankets in the middle of the night and was still shaking, I thought maybe, just maybe, that was what it felt like when hell really did freeze over.
Chapter 2
Jake
God, I used to love coming home. A sense of peace and safety would come over me every time I made the long drive up the mountain to the cabin that secreted me away from the world. Of course, that had only happened after I’d learned how to push back all the other shit that was rattling around in my head.
Like the loneliness.
The fear.
The bone-crushing guilt.
I drew in a deep breath and willed away the images that started flashing through my head. It was at that moment that I drove past the spot where I’d spied the flashy red Jaguar. Enough snow had fallen in the last four days that the tire marks were almost completely obliterated.
Oz.
He was the reason I seemed to avoid going home lately.
I wanted to call Xander and ask him what the hell he’d been thinking in renting his cabin out to the cute but very naïve kid who had no business being out of the city, let alone smack-dab in the middle of nowhere.
But calling Xander meant talking to Xander, and that was something I just wasn’t interested in. It was hard enough to have to run into him in town on occasion. If I called him, I’d inevitably get invited to yet another one of their social functions. For someone who’d been so quiet when he’d been living next to me, Xander Reed had turned into quite the social butterfly.
And he seemed intent on dragging me along for the ride.
Even if it was kicking and screaming.
But my friend had gotten smart in going about it. He often used his kid to draw me in before setting the trap. Hell, I’d already agreed to spending Thanksgiving at his place with his fiancé, Bennett, and their adopted son, Lucky. Lucky had insisted that I needed to come because their friends from New York, Aiden and Ash, wouldn’t be joining them for the holiday, since they were coming for Christmas instead. The recently turned seventeen-year-old had lamented that if I wasn’t there, Xander’s Aunt Lolly and her boyfriend would bring their nudist colony ways to dinner and start shedding clothes before the turkey was even cut. But having a semi-stranger present might hold them off until after the pumpkin pie came out.
