by Cassie Sweet
“Just think, if we die out here, it was in the pursuit of an apology.”
“We aren’t going to die.”
The knowledge that it was hard to die in a traffic accident while traveling at a slow fifteen miles per hour only helped reduce his stress by a few degrees. There were always assholes on the roads who believed heavy snowfall was a personal challenge to their driving skills. Drew wasn’t one of them. On days like this, he preferred to stay indoors.
They drove for another hour. Snow blew and drifted in whiteout conditions.
“Keep a lookout for a hotel sign.”
“I have been. All I see is a long white forever.”
Drew looked over the tops of his sunglasses. “Really? Have you turned poetic on me?”
“Not turned. I’ve always been. You just never noticed it. One of my many charms you walked away from.” Hill wiped at the window again. “Wait a minute. Look over there. I see a green sign.”
Drew slowed down. A small green rectangle covered in snow stood planted in the ground right before what might have been a driveway. He eased the vehicle into the entrance and slowly to a carport.
“Keep the engine running. I’ll go in and see if they have a room.” Hill jumped out and ran into the lobby.
It was hard to see all the way to the desk. Snow had blown under the carport and adhered to the glass.
A few minutes later, Hill came running out, slid into the passenger’s side, and slammed the door. “They have a few vacancies, but there are a lot of motorists stopping in and grabbing them. I got one of the last ones.”
“Are you sure you want to share with me?”
“Come on. Give me some credit. Why should we take up two rooms when someone else might pull in and need it? That’s selfish.”
True. And even though he might have smothered Drew to the point of asphyxiation, Hill was never selfish. If anything, he’d always given too much of himself to those he loved. It was a fault, but it wasn’t the worst one to have.
“What room?”
“Two forty-three. It’s around back.”
Drew put the truck in gear, went around to the back of the hotel—more like a motor lodge—and parked near the stairs. “Good thing I didn’t take all the food up there with me when I set up.”
Hill glanced over. “Yeah, good thing because I doubt we’re going out to forage in this storm.”
They grabbed their luggage, and Drew picked up the shopping bags. The stairs were buried in at least six inches in snow. Deeper in other spots where the wind had blown it into drifts.
“Be careful.”
Hill stumbled and went down on a knee. “Ugh.”
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
“Can you walk?”
“Give me a minute.”
“You can’t stay out here.”
“I have no intention of staying out here. I just want a minute.”
“In a minute you’ll have frostbite.”
Truly, it wasn’t that cold out, but he wasn’t about to leave Hill on a snowy concrete stair.
“Do you want me to go to the room and come back for you?”
Hill straightened. “I can manage now.”
Drew allowed Hill to pick himself up. They trudged to the room, two weary travelers who had no hope of reaching their destination. All his good plans for a perfect Christmas were shot to hell.
“Do you believe in karma, Hill?”
Hill limped, favoring his right leg. “Of a fashion, why?”
“Because I think it just bit me in the ass.”
Hill shot him a snow-covered frown. He looked like the abominable snowman’s slightly less charming brother. “What are you talking about?”
“I had this holiday all planned. It was going to be perfect. It hasn’t gone at all the way I’d envisioned it.”
Hill stopped walking and stared at Drew as if he’d lost his mind. “Cheer up. We might yet lose power. Then you can revel in the fact this torture will be complete.”
“You think this is torture?”
“Every moment I’m in your presence.” Hill started walking again.
The room was close. They made it the rest of the way there without speaking. Truthfully, Drew didn’t know what to say. Everything out of his mouth had been wrong since he’d first stood on Jen’s porch and asked Hill to let him in the house.
It was becoming crystal clear that he should’ve handled everything differently. Jen had been right. Hill didn’t like sneak attacks.
Hill stopped in front of the door, took out the key card, and slid it into the lock. The light flashed green, and he turned the handle. Cool air rushed out. The heaters hadn’t been turned on.
“We’ll have to keep our coats on until this place heats up.” Drew carried the bags to the counter where a little kitchenette was located. He looked around and gave a nod. Other than the lack of warmth, it wasn’t a bad room. They’d be comfortable and off the roads.
Hill stood at the thermostat, adjusting the heater. The blower kicked on with enough force to make the ceiling tiles expand and contract.
Hill held his hand out in front of the vent, wiggling his fingers. “It’s coming out hot, so it shouldn’t take too long to warm up in here.”
Tension hung in the room, as if the blowers were forcing that through the vents as well as the hot air. They were alone and no longer on the road. What in the hell was there to talk about? Drew didn’t want to bring up his seven-year absence. That just seemed to irritate Hill more. If they stayed away from that and a few other topics, they might just get through this without losing a layer or two of skin.
Drew ran a hand through his hair as he watched Hill move around the room. He turned on the television and promptly found the Weather Channel.
“The only thing they’re going to be able to tell you is that the blizzard came earlier than expected.”
Hill glanced over. “Yes, but I want to see how long they’re projecting it to last.”
“How long did you get the room for?”
“I told them one night but we’d let them know in the morning if we were leaving or not.”
Drew nodded. Leaving the renewal open was the reasonable thing to do. If this storm had backed up into the one they were expecting or had stalled over the area, then they might be stuck in the hotel for the entire holiday. He tried not to let that throw him into a tailspin. He’d just have to deal with the weather as it came.
“Are you hungry?”
Hill hobbled over to one of the beds and sat down. He kicked off his shoes, then peeled down his snow-crusted pants.
Drew tried to look away, but those firm thighs encased in a pair of boxer briefs were just too much temptation not to enjoy. His gaze dropped lower, where Hill poked at his knee. It looked awful.
“You need to wash that off.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
Hill stepped out of his pants and headed for the bathroom but kept his coat on. It was a hilarious combination that had Drew stifling a laugh.
As if sensing the suppressed guffaw, Hill shot Drew a dark look. “Glad you’re finding my injury amusing. Maybe later I’ll bash my head open on a cabinet or something and give you a real fit of laughter.”
“Oh, go in there and wash it up and quit your grumbling.” Drew took a couple of deli containers of chicken vindaloo out of the bag and prepped them to go into the microwave. Thank God they’d found an extended-stay hotel with a kitchenette. It would’ve been a bitch trying to heat up to-go containers by holding them over a lighter. Not that he had a lighter.
The water turned on in the bathroom. Hill cursed, then closed the door. The tap turned off again, and then the shower started.
Drew bit his lip. Suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. Hill was behind that door, getting naked and ready to jump into a hot shower. There were plenty of shower-time memories flooding his mind and veins. One of the first times they’d made out was after they’d been playing rugby on a local league in
college. They’d come back to Hill’s house and were both caked with dirt and high from an excellent win. Hill had announced he was going to take a shower. The suggestion to follow him had been there in his eyes. Drew had been powerless to resist. The next thing he knew they were under the spray, mouths fused, hands groping, and both of them hard as hammers.
By that time in their friendship, Drew had already been head over cleats in love with Hill.
How would their lives have been different if he’d sat Hill down and told him the truth? That he needed a little breathing room and to develop some outside interests, ones that weren’t designed with them as a couple in mind? Never let it be said that Hill wasn’t a diverse individual. He’d had a lot of interests at one time: part jock, part gamer, part intellectual, part art snob. There were so many facets to him he’d been cut like a diamond. Most of those interests he’d shared with Drew, but they weren’t a passion for him. Drew had participated because Hill did.
In the end it hadn’t been fair to either of them: Drew for missing out on things he wanted to do and Hill for thinking he’d found someone who shared all his interests. Those differences hadn’t changed, only Drew’s appreciation for them.
A loud crash came from the bathroom.
Drew set the food aside and opened the door. Hill lay on the floor of the tub, letting the water spray down on him. All the moisture fled Drew’s mouth. He smacked his lips together before he could talk.
“Are you all right?”
Hill cracked an eye open. “Yes. Why?”
“I heard a crash. I thought you fell.”
“I did. But not far. Misjudged the distance when I went to sit down.”
Drew’s gaze raked over Hill’s most excellently fit body and stopped at a sexy tattoo on his hip. Suddenly visions of tracing the labyrinthine paths with his tongue filled Drew’s head. Hill didn’t have a tattoo the last time they were together.
“As long as you’re okay.” Hearing the strangled sound that passed for his voice, he cleared his throat. “When did you get the tat?”
Hill glanced down at his hip. “About six months ago. I shot a segment for a documentary on tattoos at a local parlor. They were doing a fund drive for multiple sclerosis, so I got one while I was there.”
Warmth spread through Drew. Hill had never met a charity or foundation he didn’t donate to—he was very generous that way. “That’s a good cause.”
Hill gave a faint smile. “It was, and we ended up shooting me getting the tattoo and working it into the piece. It was kind of fun.”
“It didn’t hurt?”
“It smarted like getting a bee sting on top of a bad sunburn, but it was livable.”
Drew reached for something to say and came up empty.
Hill frowned and mimed closing the door. “You can leave now.”
Drew could only stand there and blink. His mind had totally disconnected. He wanted to stay and just watch Hill. He’d missed being with him for so long it was almost hard to believe they were in the same room—and that one of them was naked.
“Drew?”
Christ.
Heat shot to his face. Staring at naked Hill in the bath had the predictable effect—the same one it always did. Drew’s cock was hard. Hill’s gaze slid down to rest on the blatant evidence of unintended arousal.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
Drew finally managed to get his feet to work. “I’ll go finish heating up lunch.”
All right, so he as good as ran away when he should’ve stripped down and climbed in the tub to offer Hill a thorough washing.
He wasn’t embarrassed to get a boner while looking at Hill in the bathtub. Why should he be? The way Drew saw it, an erection proved he still wanted Hill—found him desirable. It was nothing to be ashamed over. He’d probably end up going to bed with blue balls or having to go jack off in the shower, but it wasn’t something he was going to feel bad about.
He wasn’t even particularly upset over Hill’s comment. Of course Hill was probably looking at Drew like an opportunist when it really wasn’t that way at all.
Drew got some cheese, crackers, and wine to munch on while he prepared the vindaloo. No sense in heating the food up if he didn’t know how long Hill intended to soak in the tub. Hell, he hadn’t even turned the tap for the bathtub on. He’d just lain there, letting the hot water pound down on him from the showerhead.
Drew bit his lip. Damn, Hill had looked good doing it too.
There were splashing sounds in the bathroom. Then the shower shut off. A few minutes later, Hill came out wrapped in a towel.
“See, it’s warmer in here already.”
“It certainly is,” Drew said under his breath.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. Take a load off that leg and sit down. I’ll bring you a snack while I’m fixing lunch.”
Hill hobbled toward the beds. “You mean you aren’t finished with it yet?”
“I didn’t know how long you’d be. It takes about three minutes to zap a vindaloo. I didn’t want it to get cold again before you got out.” Drew picked up the cheese tray and a glass of wine and set them on the bedside table. “Here, cranky pants. Now eat before you say something you don’t mean.”
Hill picked up his luggage, pulled out another pair of jeans, and put them on. He sat down on the bed and used one of the pillows to prop up his injured leg. “Wine and cheese? Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Yes.”
Hill looked up. His expression said he didn’t know whether to believe Drew or not. Good. Keep him guessing.
“Yeah, well I’m not easy. I’m not even cheap.”
“Believe me, I remember.” Drew went back into the kitchenette and started heating up the meal. Hill picked up the remote and scrolled through the channels.
“Had enough of watching the weather updates.”
Hill picked up a piece of cheese off the platter and set it on a cracker. “Unless they’re about to tell us we’re going to be hit by a surprise asteroid, then they aren’t saying anything new. It’ll last the better part of the night and into tomorrow.”
Not what he wanted to hear. But as the old, tired adage said, beggars couldn’t be choosers. He’d wanted to spend the holiday with Hill, and that’s what he’d gotten. They were snowed in at a motor lodge, but they were together. He’d just have to make it work.
Not a Creature was Stirring
HILL SAT on the bed with his leg elevated on pillows. The kneecap was busted up, bloody and skinned. It had blown up to twice its normal size. It hurt like hell and then some.
The room wasn’t bad. It had two queen-sized beds, a small kitchenette, and a flat-screen television hanging on the wall facing the beds. Another benefit had them dry and out of the storm, two positives that were cheap at any price.
Things could’ve been a hell of a lot worse. For instance, they might still be on the road looking for the damn cabin. That sexy, secluded cabin out in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Like he needed that kind of pressure. As it was, he’d gone thermonuclear when Drew had left the bathroom with a hard-on. Things had always been hot between them. Even in those days leading up to the breakup, which is why it took Hill by surprise.
Drew stood in the kitchenette, making them something to eat. The microwave whirred over the sound of the storm raging outside. The wind had picked up considerably since they’d taken refuge in the hotel.
Not a promising start to Christmas by any stretch of the imagination.
But then he knew that when he’d agreed to come on this fool’s journey. When they managed to get back to civilization, he was going to have to see about getting his head examined.
There was very little on television at the moment. A few reality show reruns, a competition on the Food Network, and an old black and white version of A Christmas Carol.
Scrooge.
He’d become Ebenezer Scrooge.
It hadn’t happened slowly over time but that one fateful
day when Drew had decided to tell him good-bye. He’d shut down and blamed the season for his broken heart. Well, it was no more the holidays’ fault than it was the snow’s or the Christmas lights’. No, it was a simple matter of Drew falling out of love with him.
It had to happen, right?
Young loves rarely ever lasted into adulthood. People grew and changed, and with it came the want for something more, not the same old same old.
Hill hugged a pillow to his chest and watched the movie. Listened to the words. Scrooge blamed the world for his hatred of it instead of looking to himself as the cause.
Which would explain Hill’s situation if he’d actually done something wrong. But he hadn’t. Not to his knowledge.
Drew brought a couple of plates over and sat down on the bed next to Hill. “Here. It’s not much for a festive dinner, but we won’t starve.”
“Always a bonus.” Hill took the offered food and sniffed it. His stomach let out a loud growl of anticipation.
Drew smiled. “The Hill seal of approval.”
“Not so fast. I haven’t tasted it yet. It smells good, though.” Hill lifted the plate and took a bigger sniff. Spices, sharp and tangy, tickled his nose. He’d always loved a good vindaloo. The hotter and spicier the better.
Drew took a bite and chewed methodically. He glanced at the television screen, then back at Hill. “When you woke up this morning, did you ever dream you’d be stuck in a hotel room with me during a blizzard, watching old movies?”
“It wasn’t my first thought.” Nor was it his second. He’d place it on the list between never in a million years and snowball’s chance in hell.
“I like being with you again. I missed you.”
Hill’s stomach did a flip-flop. “If you’re going to say things like that, at least assure me you mean them. I’m not going down this road if you’re just going to up and leave me again.” He shook his head. “What am I saying? I’m not going down this road under any circumstances.”
“What if I agreed to take it slow? I won’t push you for anything more than you’re willing to give.”
