Page 27 of Curvy Cabin Fever

DAMIEN

A ria just sits with me.

We don’t say anything—we don’t need to. The silence is comfortable, and I love the feeling of her leaning against my side, her head resting on my shoulder as if there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

I don’t know how long we stay like that—long enough for the morning chill to seep through my shirt, long enough for my pulse to slow and my chest to loosen for the first time in days.

Being with Aria calms me like nothing else.

When she finally stands, she squeezes my hand before heading back toward the cabin, leaving a warm patch where her palm was and a bigger, quieter ache in my chest.

I watch her go. I tell myself I’ll follow in a minute, but really, I just need to get my shit together—I need to make sure when I walk back in that I’m still her rock.

Because it’s strange knowing that I am sharing her— technically —but it doesn’t feel like that, not really.

If Aria is happy, I’m happy. I mean, I know that Morgan and Rhett have got their thing going on—who doesn’t know that—but does Aria know?

Jesus Christ.

Will she care, or will they all… fuck ?

I suck in a breath and shake my head. I don’t want to be part of that—I want her to myself in the bedroom, but I don’t feel jealous of them having her without me. As long as that’s what she wants, I mean.

By the time I push open the door, the smell of food hits me first. Morgan’s at the stove, humming to himself, pan clattering as he flips something golden and buttery.

Damn, he can cook.

Rhett’s sitting at the table, staring out the window, boots tapping an anxious rhythm against the floorboards. Aria is curled up at the end of the couch, hair falling into her eyes as she reads, one leg tucked under her, looking—if possible—happier than she did yesterday.

No one says much. Just the background hum of a house full of people trying not to crowd each other. I set my boots by the door and hang my coat, spying the flannel I gave Aria earlier, a smile playing on my lips at the thought of her snuggling it.

Morgan glances over his shoulder at me, eyes quick and clever. “You hungry, man? Hope you like eggs for the third day running.”

“Eggs are good,” I say, settling into the seat across from Rhett. “Protein.”

“Better than the jerky,” Aria calls, her voice light, teasing.

And just like that, we’re a family. Four people in the middle of nowhere, pretending this is easy, that the outside world isn’t waiting, that what we’re building here can last.

I don’t know how it will end, or what happens when the snow finally melts, but I know one thing for sure?—

I’d rather have her like this—surrounded, adored, the center of our small universe—than never have her at all.

I sip the coffee Morgan’s brewed—strong, a little burnt, but hot—and let the warmth settle into my chest. Rhett hasn’t said a word since I sat down, but his foot still taps against the floor like he’s nervous.

I can only imagine how he feels—fucking Morgan and Aria. I’ve got it all going on in my mind with just Aria.

Aria tucks her bookmark between the pages and sets her book aside. Her eyes sweep the room once—first to Morgan, then me, then finally to Rhett.

“We should do something tonight,” she suggests. “Something fun.”

Morgan flips a pancake. “Like what, darling? Strip poker?”

Rhett finally snorts, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Pretty sure I’d lose. I can’t bluff for shit.”

“Truth or dare?” Aria offers, smiling.

I arch a brow. “I’m sure if you want one of us naked, you only need to ask.”

“True.” Her grin is wicked and bright, but underneath it, I see something else. She doesn’t want sex right now—she wants a deeper connection—something else. Something the four of us can share.

I like how she includes me without hesitation. I’ve been the quiet one in all this. The shadow. Yet she doesn’t care.

Morgan sets the last plate down and gestures grandly. “Breakfast for dinner is served. Eat up before Rhett broods a hole through the wall.”

Rhett rolls his eyes. “I’m not brooding.”

“You’re always brooding,” Morgan mutters.

“Boys,” Aria warns, sliding into the seat beside me, across from them. “Behave.”

Maybe she will be good for them.

My thigh brushes hers under the table. She doesn’t move away.

Dinner passes with snorts of laughter and simple conversation.

The kind that only happens when people are comfortable with each other but still feeling their way around things.

Rhett talks more than usual—about hunting, the tools in the shed, the frozen generator.

Morgan teases him, tossing in jokes that get progressively more ridiculous until even Rhett cracks a smile.

Aria soaks it all in, laughing at all the right moments, reaching out to touch a hand here, a shoulder there. She’s not choosing between us—not yet—but it’s not because she’s indecisive.

It’s because she’s trying to let us all know she wants us, all of us.

And fuck me, it’s working.

I watch her move, speak, and laugh. I watch the way she looks at Morgan—tender and sweet—and the way she glances at Rhett—heated and intrigued, like she’s still unraveling him thread by thread.

And then there’s the way she rests her hand on my arm when she passes me the butter. Like I’m her anchor. Her calm in the storm.

I’m not in competition with any of them. They’re my best friends, and I love this.

And maybe I’m falling for her. Maybe .

After dinner, Morgan cleans up, humming some old song under his breath while he does it, shoulders swaying to the nonexistent beat. Rhett disappears to check on something—again. Aria leans back on the couch, stretching like a cat, her shirt riding up just enough to tease the edge of her hip.

I grab a spare log and feed the fire, poking at it until the flames flare bright and hot.

Behind me, Aria says softly, “You’re always the one doing that.”

“What?”

“Keeping the fire going. Making sure everyone’s warm.”

I shrug, half turning. “Someone’s gotta.”

She crosses the room and sits beside me on the rug, her legs folding beneath her, shoulder brushing mine. We sit like that for a while, watching the flames crackle. Her body is relaxed, but there’s something about the way she leans into me—quiet, trusting—that tells me she feels safe, cared for.

And I like that.

Later, I watch Aria across the room, laughing with Morgan about something I can’t hear. The firelight catches in her hair, turning it to dark velvet, and something primal shifts inside me. It’s not just that I want her—though God knows I do constantly—it’s something deeper, more possessive.

When she glances my way, smiling that smile that’s just for me, I have to shift in my seat to hide my reaction. There’s something about the way she fits so perfectly against me, like her body was made to complement mine, that makes me think dangerous thoughts.

“You’re staring,” Rhett mutters, nudging my shoulder.

“Can you blame me?”

He follows my gaze and shakes his head. “You’ve got it bad, man.”

If he only knew. The things I imagine doing with her go beyond what I’ve admitted to anyone, beyond what I’ve even fully admitted to myself.

Sometimes when we’re together, when I’m buried inside her and she’s gasping my name, I think about what it would be like to truly claim her.

To fill her completely, to know some part of me would grow inside her.

The thought alone makes my blood run hot, makes me want to drag her away from the others right now and?—

“Earth to Damien,” Morgan calls, and I realize I’ve been silent too long, my thoughts wandering into territory that makes my face heat.

“What?” I ask, clearing my throat. “I’m just thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” Aria teases, dropping onto the couch beside me, her thigh pressing against mine.

I drape my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, my fingers absently tracing patterns on the bare skin of her arm. “You have no idea,” I murmur against her hair, breathing in her scent.

When her hand lands on my thigh, innocently high but still enough to make my imagination run wild, I have to fight the urge to whisper exactly what I’ve been thinking into her ear.

But I don’t. Not yet. Some desires are better saved for when we’re alone, when I can watch her reaction, see if she’s as intrigued by the thought as I am.

For now, I just press a kiss to her temple and let myself imagine a future where she carries more than just my name.

Which she will, one day.