Page 44 of Curvy Cabin Fever

“You could leave now, you know,” I remark, nodding toward the road. “The storm’s passed. It won’t be easy, but if you really want to go, you can.”

Her lips press together, and I see the flicker of hurt in her eyes before she masks it.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asks softly.

And there it is.

The fucking question I don’t have an answer to.

I swallow hard, my grip tightening on the shovel. “I?—”

She steps forward, forcing me to look at her. “Because I will, Rhett. If you tell me to go, I will. But if you don’t want me to…” She trails off, her breath curling in the cold air between us, waiting for me to say it.

I should tell her to leave or push her away before I fuck this up even more. But my hand twitches by my side, itching to reach for her. My jaw clenches so hard it aches, and I stand there like a fucking idiot, mute.

And Aria sees right through me.

Her shoulders drop, and her voice is barely above a whisper when she speaks again. “That’s what I thought.”

Then she turns to leave.

And for the second time in two days, I fucking watch her walk away.

And I hate every second.

15

MORGAN

Aria and Damien have retreated to his bedroom, but this time for rest. Aria looked exhausted, and Damien glared in Rhett’s direction when she returned inside, asking if he’d upset her anymore.

“No,” Aria had said, but then yawned. “I’m just so tired.”

Damien had taken her hand and guided her to bed, leaving me alone with the big bad wolf.

Not that I mind, but Rhett Callahan is as stubborn as a mule when he wants to be, and that is all the fucking time.

Rhett and I have always been closer out of the three of us. Maybe because I see beneath his tough guy exterior, or my secret crush makes me wear rose-tinted glasses.

Who knows?

I take my coffee outside and watch him work, shoveling the driveway like it’s done something personally to upset him. I won’t complain; I’d watch Rhett empty the trash—he’s that sexy. But I can see his tense movements, stiff jawline, and furrowed brow, which tell me he’s lost in his head again.

I sigh and lean on the railing, glancing around.

“You’re in a mood,” I observe, sipping my coffee as Rhett grunts, barely acknowledging me. “Talk to me, man.”

But he doesn’t.

He’s complicated, yet here I am, willing to do anything for him to feel better. He was in the wrong yesterday, but he spent all day and all night alone, and I hate that. I had agreattime with Damien and Aria, but Damien isn’t great at sharing.

I doubt he’d do it again, the possessive prick.

“You need to tell me what the fuck you were thinking, speaking to her and then us like that,” I urge pointedly, staring down at him.

He’s like a sexy lumberjack, and for a second, I wish we had some wood for him to chop.

My dick strains in my pants, and I curse myself.