Page 63 of Fragile Lives

“You are when I say you are,” she repeats with a challenge and a sneaky half-smile.

A smart man knows how to pick his battles, so I respond with, “Yes, ma’am.”

She rolls her lips, trying not to laugh, and stands up. “Since we’re stuck here, I want to get a Christmas tree.”

“But it’s not Christmas anymore.” I look out the window.

“Who cares?” She shrugs. “It’s New Year’s soon. Can you help me get one?”

“Yeah.” I nod. I’ll get her the moon if she wants it. It might take longer, but I’d reverse gravity so the shining ball could be in her magical hands.

“Cool.” She looks outside. “It’s getting dark even earlier here. Like we’re on a different planet.”

I follow her gaze. “Yeah, I didn’t expect that, but I like it.”

“Me too.” She smiles and looks at the bed. “I guess we’ve solved the problem of sleeping arrangements. Even though this bed doesn’t have a good track record of conversations held there.” Then she adds with a quirked brow, “But if we manage to keep our mouths shut, maybe we’ll manage?”

I let her have this moment because I totally deserve that.

Chapter Eighteen

LEILA

Last night was…interesting.

The convulsing muscles of his tattooed stomach will get me through many lonely nights in the future, that’s for sure. The moment I imagine him spasming under my touch, my own muscles contract, and I smack the tiled wall of the shower. The physical sting grounds me, bringing me back to reality.

I went too far.

I dove too deep.

I didn’t listen to Ken’s warning and got hooked on Stephan’s powerful presence. And he was so right—there will be no coming out of it. One thing he got wrong, though—there won’t be coming out of itfor me, because I’m too deep. Iseehim. Ifeelhim.

And I’m addicted to him as if he’s the best drug out there. I don’t think Stephan is the one in danger here—I am. At some point, he’ll get tired of me. He will see me as I am—his friend’s little, inexperienced sister. And I don’t mean just in sex, but in life in general—he’s seen so much while I’ve seen so little. That’s not self-pity talking, no. It’s the reality of the situation.

Stephan is a drifter, and he’ll never settle down, nor would I want him to. He’s too large for me and our small town—I understand that, but I can’t make myself stop gravitating toward him. So, I decide fuck it, I’ll ride this wild horse as long as he’ll let me.

Besides that, I wasn’t joking when I said we would end up fucking like rabbits. The chemistry in the air around us was palpable, and from everyone’s warnings, they all knew it. It was a matter of time before it was too much in this small space, and we’d explode. I’d prefer sooner rather than later.

Finishing my shower, I step into the chill air and instantly shiver. Are we running out of gas? Why is it so chilly?

I quickly dry myself, get dressed, and walk out of the bathroom.

And find no one. The place is small, so it’s hard to lose a person in here, but Stephan is nowhere to be found. I’d be lying if I said my blood didn’t turn to ice when I don’t find him. I run outside, not bothering to grab a jacket.

I rush to the porch, my fuzzy socks sliding on the slippery surface. I wail like a banshee as I slip, but a strong hand grabs my elbow and steadies me.

“Are you insane? It’s cold out here.” Stephan’s voice chides me as he reaches for me. “And you’re not even wearing boots.”

His arm wraps around my torso from behind and pulls me into him.

“Put your feet on my boots, or you’ll freeze to death.”

I do as I’m told, and he wraps the front of his jacket around me, enveloping my shivering body into his warmth, smelling delicious and cozy. My heart palpitates with the adrenaline of not finding him and nearly falling, beating against my ribcage. Right where his arm is placed.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask, my breath coming out in white puffs.

“Came to get more wood.”