Page 11 of Curvy Cabin Fever

RHETT

J esus, fuck, if I have ever had a night with no sleep, it was nothing compared to listening to the fuck marathon going on in Morgan’s room all night long. They spent all day and all night holed up in that fucking room.

I stare at the lake, coffee in hand, for a change.

But even the brown nectar isn’t making me feel better today.

No, there’s nothing that will fix my mood, of that I’m sure.

Because something sits like a fist in my chest, clamped around my heart, making it hard to breathe.

I can’t work out what exactly it is, but it’s a feeling unfamiliar and unwelcome.

I want to clench my fist and ram it into the wall, to feel it splinter and wreck around my knuckles, leaving them bloody and dry.

To my knowledge, there’s only one emotion that can conjure that shit up, and it’s envy.

The famous green-eyed monster, the one thing I rarely suffer from .

Yet here we are.

Because I can tell myself it’s the sounds that kept me awake, the rhythmic thud of the headboard against the wall, the deep, contented sighs, the grunts and groans of one of my best friends as he pounded into the woman I haven’t been able to get out of my fucking mind since the second I laid eyes on her.

Or maybe it was the way she moaned his name, or her gasps when he did something particularly well.

And I don’t doubt he knows exactly what he’s doing because Morgan is an expert with any gender. I’ve seen many smug grins on his face after he’s spent the night with men or women, and they always try to come back for more.

Not that it matters to me, it just means whatever he’s doing is worth their while, that’s all.

But Aria?

That fucking woman.

She turned up out of nowhere, claiming to have paid for my cabin, so we had no choice but to put her up. And what has she done? Seduced both of my best friends in the course of three fucking days.

How the fuck?

I shake my head and sip my coffee. Maybe she’s a seductress, all plump lips, dark hair and curves for fucking days. Maybe it’s her husky voice, her flushed cheeks or?—

Nope. Not doing this.

I step out onto the wraparound porch, inhaling the sharp scent of pine still heavy in the chilly air. The world outside is a frozen masterpiece, untouched and gleaming under the pale morning light.

The lake stretches out before me, a vast expanse of glassy ice, cracked in places where the cold settled deep into its depths. The rising sun barely peeks over the treetops, casting long shadows across the snow, turning the thick drifts into a mixture of silver and blue. Everything is still.

Too still.

Like the world is holding its breath, waiting for something to shatter the peace.

Ice weighs down the trees around the lake, making their needles glitter like diamonds. A few stubborn branches sag under the weight, and now and then, a chunk of ice breaks free, tumbling to the ground with a muffled thump against the packed snow.

The cold bites at my skin through my thick wooly sweater, sharp and bracing, but I welcome it. Anything to distract me from the thoughts gnawing at the edges of my sanity.

A faint wind stirs through the trees, rattling frozen branches, sending tiny crystals swirling through the air.

I exhale slowly, watching my breath curl into the morning, a brief glimpse of heat before it vanishes—just like my fucking peace of mind.

Because no matter how still and quiet it is out here, nothing inside me is calm.

I stare out at the frozen lake, forcing myself to focus on anything but the pounding in my skull, or the tension in my gut. The fucking ache that weighs heavily in my chest.

Morgan is my best friend . I should be happy for him. I should be able to brush this off and act like last night didn’t fucking gut me.

But I can’t.

Because every time I close my eyes, all I see is her with him .

I grind my teeth, lifting my mug to my lips, but the coffee’s already gone cold.

Perfect.

The door creaks open behind me, the quiet shuffle of movement breaking the stillness.

I don’t turn around—I don’t have to.

I know exactly who it is.

“I didn’t think I’d find you out here.” Morgan’s voice is rough with sleep but still fucking smug. Like last night wasn’t just a fuck marathon, but a goddamn victory lap.

I force my fingers to unclench from the mug, but my jaw stays locked. “Yeah, well. Couldn’t sleep.”

Morgan leans against the railing beside me, stretching his arms overhead with a satisfied groan.

I want to hit him.

I want to wipe that cocky grin off his face, to make him feel even half of what I’m feeling right now.

Instead, I stay perfectly still, my fingers tightening around the railing.

Morgan eyes me, taking a slow sip of his own coffee before smirking. “Something on your mind, man?”

I exhale sharply through my nose. “Nope.”

He chuckles.

Fucker .

“No?” he goads. “Because you look like someone who spent all night thinking about something in particular. Or, I dunno— someone .”

I finally turn my head, meeting his gaze. It’s a mistake.

Because he knows. He fucking knows—he’s enjoying this.

I shake my head, turning back to the lake. “Are you done?”

Morgan hums, taking another slow sip of coffee. “Not even close.”

I grit my teeth. Patience, Rhett. Patience.

“Are you jealous?” he asks casually, like he’s fishing for a reaction.

I don’t give him one.

He chuckles again, pushing off the railing. “Relax, man. I’m just fucking with you.”

Yeah. That’s the fucking problem.

The door creaks open again, and this time, it’s not Morgan I feel. It’s her .

Aria steps onto the porch, rubbing her arms against the cold. Her hair is damp, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the shower, and she’s wearing Morgan’s hoodie.

My stomach fucking plummets.

She hesitates when she sees me, like she’s not sure if she should speak.

Good.

Because I don’t think I want to listen to a word she has to say.

Morgan glances between us, smirking against the rim of his coffee cup. “Morning, beautiful.”

Aria gives him a small smile, but her eyes flick to me—just for a second.

And fuck, that second is enough.

Because I see the hesitation. The guilt.

Like she knows exactly what last night did to me.

And maybe that should make me feel better.

But it doesn’t.

It just makes me fucking furious.

“I’m surprised you two came up for air,” I say through gritted teeth.

I can’t help it—I want them to fucking know how I feel.

“Oh, I’m sure we will get right back to it,” Morgan quips, just as the door opens for a third time.

What is this? Let’s all stress Rhett the fuck out?

“Where were you last night?” Damien mumbles, burying his head into Aria’s hair, his arms circling her stomach from behind. “This isn’t my hoodie, Aria.”

Her eyes flicker to me when I make the mistake of staring at her for a second too long, but I’m perplexed.

Is she a witch?

How has she got these two wrapped around her sexy fucking finger?

“She was with me,” Morgan states with a smile, but it fades when Damien shoots him a glare.

“I heard.” Damien turns Aria’s face to his, his lips brushing against hers as Aria lets out a whimper. “Did you lose your way to my room, baby?”

Then his mouth smashes against hers, his hands lifting Morgan’s hoodie clean from her body in one frenzied movement, leaving her in just a bra.

Fuck.

“Let me fucking remind you who you belong to.”

He rips open the door to the cabin, his eyes filled with heat and desire, shooting a warning stare to Morgan before Aria stumbles toward him.

“Wait, I can’t do this!” Aria cries out, tugging her hand away from Damien, who stares at her stone-faced.

I tilt my head, interested in this turn of events.

Does the scarlet woman have a heart, after all?

A smile twists at the edges of my mouth as she throws her hands in the air. She’s losing control, and no amount of orgasms will make her feel better. It must be out of character for her after all, then, to fuck different men on a rota of horniness.

“I don’t do things like this,” she whines, and I can’t help but snort. Her eyes move to me, narrowing into slits as her fists bunch at her sides. “Have you got something to say, Rhett?”

“Nope,” I reply.

I’m not giving her the reaction she wants.

Fuck no.

She might be able to control my friends, but I don’t think with my dick.

They do.

“You’re jealous!” she blurts out, and I sense Morgan and Damien stiffen. “Admit it.”

I twist my body, so I’m now facing the horndogs, and blow out a steady breath before meeting her furious gaze.

Her lower lip trembles, but she lifts her chin defiantly, ready to fend off my attack if needed.

I take in her flushed cheeks, her soft skin, and the fact she’s standing outside in stupidly cold temperatures in just her bra.

Her body is so shapely it should be a crime because I can’t take my fucking eyes off it. The thought of them touching her?—

“Rhett?” Morgan prods faintly, his eyes locked on me.

“Jealous of what? I don’t want sloppy thirds, thanks.” I drain my coffee as her skin pales, and I instantly feel bad. But I have to put her in her place—she doesn’t get to call me out like that. “You’re not my type.”

“Fuck you, Rhett.” Tears spring to her eyes, and Damien glares at me, stepping forward.

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that, you dick.”

“Or?” I respond, calm and collected as the veins in his temples throb. I don’t want to fight, but I’m done with fucking accepting this crazy reality. I watch Aria, the ache in my chest changing to guilt, but it’s soon replaced by fury with what Damien says next.

“Or I’ll fucking end you.”

Damien is not to be played with, and he’s right, whether I like it or not. I’ve offended the one woman who has caught my eye in…a long time. I hold his gaze until we hear Aria rush inside the cabin; the door shutting softly behind her.

“You need to get yourself in check, Rhett, or I swear to god?—”

“What?” I scoff, pushing off the railing. “You’ll ‘end me,’ your oldest fucking friend, over some piece of ass willing to fuck any of us?”

Damien’s fist swings out so fast I don’t have time to react, his knuckles slamming into my face as stars explode in my eyes.

Of fucking course.

This is how he handles shit when it gets too real—rage first, regret later. I should’ve seen it coming.

Morgan’s already between us, one arm outstretched to block another blow. I push off the rail, fury curling under my ribs, but mostly I just feel tired. Tired of being the one who always has to deal with Damien’s goddamn temper.

I launch myself at him, but Morgan is too strong, keeping us apart as he barks at me to fucking control myself.

“ Me? ” I bark, pointing at the two men I see as my brothers. “It’s fucking her that’s done this! She turned up, and you two have turned into fucking walking come faucets!”

Damien shakes his head and spits on the ground, his finger moving in my direction as he hisses, “Upset her again, and I will hurt you, Rhett.”

Then he heads back into the cabin, leaving Morgan and me outside.