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“You should be worried about the cold and what it does to Mr. Massive.”

The best thing for me is to stay out of it,allof it, even though there is something so sexy about Gilli. Something about her that draws me to her.

I’d love to feel that sweet ass in my hands. To nuzzle her tits, to kiss her, to fuck her and make her mine, even if it’s only for a night.

It’s not my place.

She stands, stretching her arms over her head, with her face tilted up to the night sky. “I’m heading in even if I’m not going to be able to fall asleep.” She turns to face me. “Are you going to be okay out here all alone?”

“I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”

She smiles, a final farewell, and then the sound of her footsteps grows fainter. Rather than push my luck, rather than go after her and reach for her and feel her warmth…or drag her onto my lap the way I might have, I stand.

And despite the chill, I limp to the lake and dive in, hoping it will clear my head.

Chapter 9

Gilli

Acrack cuts along the right corner of the ceiling at an angle, like someone took a box cutter and slashed through the plaster.

I scrub the base of my hands into my eyes hard enough for black and white spots to bloom behind closed lids, but I still see the crack.

Watery gray sunlight filters in through the curtains.

Another night of not sleeping well and the restlessness is catching up. It’s in the aches along my knees and elbows, the forward slope of my shoulders, and the constant throbbing headache across the top half of my skull.

How many more of these nights can I take before the breakdown happens? Because seriously, it’s coming.

I roll over with a groan and reflexively reach for the phone I would’ve stashed on the nightstand if I hadn’t chucked it. It’s weird not to have a cell, to be able to do something about myself, my situation, my life.

I’d replayed Aiden’s words for hours after I’d gone to bed. He probably sees my mom more than I do. He certainly knows her better than he knows me.

To say I love her is an odd thing, because I guess there is always going to besomelove for the woman who birthed me.

Do I like her? Is affection even possible after everything that has happened?

I’m not sure I like my own self so how can I like anyone else?

I brush my hand against my face again, letting the chill in my fingers sink into my overheated forehead. The clock reads 7:09 and the bright red numbers stand out against the gloom.

I should stay in bed and try to sleep. Or maybe I should go to town and find the public library so I can access their internet.

If I’m not able to do my own research here on the threatening user, then I need to get out and try. That’s what I came to the cabin to do.

So why can’t I step out of my own way?

My stomach churns with that stupid heat.

I’m not sleeping, I’m needling my stepbrother who has every right to kick me out, and I’m fantasizing about men I have no business fantasizing about.

What gives?

The others will probably want to sleep in after their late night. I don’t want to talk to them. I don’t want them to know why I’m here. They want me out, anyway. Is it even worth it to stay?

I push off the bed and swipe at my forehead again, erasing sweaty evidence of my nerves. The house is quiet and the door to the bathroom slightly ajar, the light off.

I should leave right now. Push the car to its limits and go literally anywhere else, find another, less obvious hiding place.