Page 10

CHAPTER EIGHT

paige

I’ve always found snow falling to be a peaceful sight, if not hypnotizing as it rains down in its rhythmic nature.

It’s one of the few things in life that can make my New York hustle slow down for a beat and just stare. Saving me from my worries and anxieties even for a short breath. A wondrous reprieve.

Yet as I look out the expansive window, at the winter scenery before me—the snow blanketing the already covered ground and the mountain peaks that sit in a storm-cloaked veil, I feel no peace, I am not calm.

Any therapeutic relief snowing might have given me has been chased away by an egregious shift in the day. Leaving only space for more boisterous, if not insidious in nature, emotions to find a home.

Rage. Annoyance. Contempt.

They’re all stewing inside me as I keep my heated glare trained on the weather outside, hoping it’s blazing enough to dispel the falling snow so I can escape this godforsaken cabin.

That’s right.

Cabin.

As in Nate’s family cabin.

As in…I’m still in the middle of the woods with Nate fucking Ford.

Now trapped here by the forces of a cruel winter’s fate.

All because the truck didn’t start.

That stupid, fucking old-school red truck that almost killed me on the way up here now sits proudly in my view, completely unaware of the turmoil it’s wreaking by not starting.

Especially since no one can come up here to rescue us until tomorrow at the earliest. Meaning I’m now stranded in the middle of nowhere with Nate.

A shiver runs up my spine at the thought.

After the little slip-up on the ice that will not be mentioned, Nate and I kind of awkwardly drifted apart, silently packing up our belongings. With me trying to avoid his questioning stare in the process.

While I went to grab the stuff I put inside the cabin when we first arrived, things I didn’t want left out in the cold, Nate said he was going to get the cab warmed up.

Silence had greeted me as I stepped out of the house with my coat and bag slung over my shoulder. I didn’t think anything of it.

Until Nate said, “I think the battery died.”

Then the silence shattered, opening to my new reality. Almost frantically, I made him turn the key over and over and over again with only the truck sputtering in answer.

“I still can’t believe you don’t have jumper cables here,” I grumble, glaring at the lake as little mounds of snow pile atop it.

“I have jumper cables but nothing to jump start them with.” It’s, like, his third time telling me this, but I keep hoping the answer will change.

Isn’t he supposed to be Santa’s favorite this year? Where is the miracle, Santa? Send us something to use the cables on!

Because what’s the point of having them if you have nothing to use them with?

That’s like saying I have water but no glass to drink it in. Completely useless.

“What about one of your friends?” I don’t look away from the window. “You do have those here, don’t you? Or is everyone too busy celebrating the peace and quiet they’re now getting without you around?”

“Still have friends here. And they all still love me.” I find that hard to believe. Still not turning around, I watch Nate’s faint reflection ripple in the clear glass of the window. “Unfortunately, they’re all either working or not in town right now. But we’ll be fine. My buddy Dax said he’ll drive up in the morning once the snow passes, so it’s no big deal.”

No big deal—I beg to differ.

“Tomorrow isn’t good enough.” My eyes start to burn from the intensity. “What about your dad?”

“He won’t be in town until tomorrow…” The day I’m supposed to leave. He trails off, only to hastily add, “I usually pick him up in town after he parks his semi’s cab behind Dick’s.”

So he couldn’t come get us, anyway.

Oh, great. Great. Great. That’s just great.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I shift my stare, training it on the hunk of vintage metal. The shiny red exterior with a cream panel along the side starts to turn white as it continues to catch snowflakes, but what I need it to do is turn on.

Maybe the rage powering my veins will be enough to jump-start the thing. Jumper cables, shumper cables.

My eyes narrow to slits. Turn on.

Nate chuckles from somewhere behind me. Amusement oozes from the sound as I whirl around, giving him a lethal stare to shut him up.

Maybe if it can’t kick-start the car or dissipate frozen water, it can at least melt him, leaving me to simmer in peace.

“What?” I snap with panicked hostility. Does he not get we’re stuck here?

Nate isn’t even remotely put off by my tone or our reality as he leans against the stone fireplace, resting his forearm along the garland-covered live edge mantel. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, his landscape tattoo he got when he was nineteen on full display.

Calm. Cool. Infuriatingly collected as he stares at me, his lips twitching. Eyes gleaming with an enjoyment I want to destroy.

“Nothing,” he tells me. “Just enjoying the view. And the knowledge that you’re probably trying to melt the snow with your mind.”

“I am not,” I reply indigently. But my cheeks heat with annoyance.

I don’t like how well he knows me. I don’t like him.

At least he doesn’t know about trying to start the truck with my mind.

“Mhmm,” Nate hums, rolling his lips together as he fights a smile. He tries to wipe it away by rubbing his beard in thought. “Of course not. Because that would be ridiculous.”

“I’m sorry.” I don’t sound anywhere close to sorry. ”But do you find our situation funny?”

“Our situation? No. You?” He stops fighting himself, unleashing a grin that only enrages me more. “Absolutely.”

I huff, inwardly stomping my foot.

Of course he does. Because why wouldn’t he? It’s sooo funny being trapped on a mountain in close quarters with the last person you want to share air with right now.

So. Fucking. Funny. I’m practically doubling over on the inside. With fury.

I ball my hands into fists, focusing on the pressure of my nails digging into my skin.

“Glad to know I’ll have to tell the EMTs to give you a CT scan when we’re finally rescued from this prison. Make sure you haven’t had too many ego inflations recently.”

Although as far as prisons go, this isn’t a horrible one. Company aside, of course.

“‘Preciate that, sweetheart.”

I stick my tongue out at him.

The cabin, while modest in size, is quite cozy. If not a little chilly from the log walls surrounding us.

It definitely has all the markings of a bachelor pad. Sport team logos decorate the walls, along with mounted fish, most likely from their trips up here. An outdated two-seater couch with an Afghan blanket thrown over the stained, lumpy cushions sits across from the fireplace, a live edge coffee table in front of it.

But among the raw manliness of the space, it’s also decorated for Christmas. Like the mantel and porch outside, garland is woven around the exposed beams on the ceilings, two stockings hang by the fireplace, and a tree adorned with lights but not ornaments, sits in the corner opposite of me near the large windows that overlook the mountains and lake.

“I can give you a tour if you’d like.” Nate watches me take in his home.

I cross my arms over my chest. “I’d rather you call a tow company.”

“You know I will.” He reaches into his back pocket for his phone. Some of the humor vanishes from his expression, replaced with a healthy amount of concern as he eyes me. Can he see the slight tremor in my fingers? “But you’ve already watched me call the only two companies in town. Both of them said the same, they can’t come up until the snow stops. The roads up here are too hazardous otherwise. The best they can do is try tomorrow if they can get their truck here.”

He starts to redial one of the numbers, the companies owned by the same two brothers.

“Stop.” I shake my head. I don’t need him placating me. “There’s no point in bothering them. They’d probably just bump us down the list of rescues anyway.”

“Dax will be here tomorrow, as long as the roads aren’t covered in ice. And even then, we just have to wait for the sun to melt it.”

“We’re in a snowstorm, Nate. The sun could be hidden for days. The news kept saying be prepared. That sounds pretty serious to me.”

He shakes his head. “They always blow these storms out of proportion. The truth is they can only predict what they think will happen, and in my experience, it’s usually the worst so people will take it more seriously. Guarantee we’ll have you back at the resort by afternoon tomorrow.”

“And if you don’t?” My arms tighten around my waist. My flight to Austin’s goes out late tomorrow night.

“I’ll get you back down the mountain, Paige, as soon as I can. I promise.”

I know you will. The sentence gets trapped in my throat. I just hate that I’m stuck here with you.

I finally pull myself away from the window and plop down on the couch, trying to shift into a comfortable position. But the cushions are so old and flat, I feel the wood from the framework poking my already bony ass.

I try to keep my face neutral as I ignore the hard surface. Because despite my surly, if not completely volatile, personality right now, I do strive to have manners. And this isn’t an insult to Nate, but to his father who has always been a very kind man to me.

A pang of sadness breaches my bad mood. I miss Nate’s dad. And his grandparents.

From the moment Nate and I started to become close, as those little nine and ten-year-old kids, they quickly embraced me and my brother as family. And for two kids who only grew up wanting to be wanted, it was everything.

Betty still calls me, and James, Nate’s grandfather, will sometimes meet me for coffee before I go to the rink or catch me on the way home. His dad will send me birthday texts and postcards from his travels. He’ll even answer my calls if I ever need help with some kind of repair around my apartment.

But no matter how much they’ve felt like family to me and Austin and even my niece, Clover, they’re not ours.

They’re Nate’s.

And I’ve always worked really hard to respect that since he ended our partnership. And I think that’s what makes it sting the worst. Why I still care about his betrayal two years later.

It wasn’t only because of figure skating.

I didn’t just lose Nate as my partner.

I lost the family that chose me—Nate included.

My eyes start to sting, and I suck in a sharp breath. No, no. You are not allowed to cry. Not yet. Not in front of him.

I will not go from wanting to burn the weather down to crying. I have not reached that breaking point…yet.

Drawing in a slow breath, I pick my head up and look for something else to focus on.

Unfortunately, there isn’t much to look at that can distract me. Leaving me with really only one option.

My eyes land on Nate as he adjusts the pocket of his shirt. Two red button eyes watch me almost smugly from it as he does.

“I can’t believe you put him in your shirt.”

Him being Snowball, my hedgehog. The forever stowaway.

He’s what I came to collect from the house when Nate went to start up the truck. Him, and my coat and my phone.

“I can’t believe you brought him with you.” Nate runs a gentle finger down the slope of Snowball’s nose, who lifts his little chin to follow. His paws clutch the pocket’s edge for leverage.

From the moment we got in the truck and Nate greeted me, Snowball tried to claw and bite and cry his way out of his carrier.

My aging, disgruntled pet, who predominantly likes to sleep and eat around me, practically became a different beast entirely at the sound of Nate’s voice.

Feral to be reunited with the true love of his life.

“Yeah, sorry about the surprise. The only way I convinced Kylie to not lock me in the hotel room’s closet was that I’d take Snowball so she could have a little sexy video call with Kev.” Although, now I’m thinking about it, Kylie should’ve tried a liiiiittle bit harder to get me to stay.

Phone sex be damned.

“I don’t mind.” Nate peers down at Snow, rubbing the top of his head with the same finger that ran down his nose, affection clear on his face. I’m not the only one reminiscing on things we’ve lost from the last two years. “I’ve missed him.”

There’s a longing in his voice that I don’t think is directed towards my hedgehog.

A fist tightens around my heart, crushing me. Nate continues to stroke Snowball’s head, oblivious as I’m unable to pull myself away. Snared by his beguiling profile.

He almost kissed me earlier.

Worse, I think I was going to let him.

No, I was going to let him kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. Wanted to know what his beard would feel like against my skin, what his lips would taste like.

As if this situation isn’t bad enough already. Not only am I snowed in with my rival, but I’m now going to be plagued with that pure brain failure moment from the lake, too.

Because that’s what it is. What it has to be.

My brain simply short-circuited from the emotions he wrung out of me with his pushy questions. Not because I wanted to.

No. I’m not that unwell.

But as I sit here, staring at him tenderly pet my hedgehog, I remember the feel of his thumb brushing against my cheek. The soft, careful stroke and the way it has my body heating up even now.

From just a memory. A whisper of a touch.

I need to get as far from Nate as possible. To dig out one of the boxes I’ve shoved into the recess of my memory, carefully open it wide enough to throw what happened on the lake inside, and then quickly lock it back up. Shoving it away to never deal with again.

As if it doesn’t exist to begin with.

As if it’s nothing.

Because it is— nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

“Paige?”

I jump. My butt lands on the hard couch with a harder thud. Ow.

Even Nate winces at the sound. “You okay?”

I resist the urge to rub my throbbing tailbone. “Oh, you know, just peachy. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing right now than be trapped in this murder cabin with you.”

Just maybe ten hundred million other things.

“Murder cabin?” Nate rubs a hand across his jaw, over his mouth. Trying to hide his amusement. “Who will be the one doing the murdering here? Me or you?”

“You, of course. It’s your cabin.”

“Ah, right. Of course. How silly of me.” His hand is still covering half his mouth. But I can tell how much he’s enjoying this from the rounds of his cheeks and the way his eyes are crinkling. He clears his throat, trying to appear serious. And fails at it. “What if I promise there will be no murders in this cabin?”

“I’m still kind of regretting agreeing to the last promise you made me.” I gesture to the cabin.

“Right. How about a truce instead?”

“A truce?”

“Yeah, you know, a ceasefire? Putting aside our differences?” He pushes up his already bunched sleeves. “Just for as long as we’re stuck here.”

Alarm bells go off in my head. “I thought you said we were only going to be here until tomorrow?”

I can’t be here longer than that. I just can’t.

“We are.” I’m not sure he has the authority to speak with such certainty, but I’m not in a position to correct him. I want it to be true. “But for the sake of your blood pressure, I think we need to tone down the animosity.”

That…seems hard to do. But I can admit constantly bickering with Nate for the rest of the night will get pretty exhausting, and I am going to need all my energy to push that damn truck down the mountain tomorrow.

Wait! Why didn’t I think of that before? We’re on top of the mountain, we don’t need the car to be on, we just need get it on the road and let gravity take over?—

“Whatever you’re thinking, no. It can’t happen,” Nate cuts through my ingenious thoughts. I narrow my eyes at him.

“I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“You’re always thinking something.”

“Not this time.” I lean back on the couch, ignoring the wood now digging into my back as I cross my arms.

“Paige.”

“Nate.”

“Truce?”

“You really think we can get along without all this back and forth?” We can’t even make it through this conversation.

But Nate shakes his head. “No, but I’m hoping we can turn it down from hostile insults to cute, flirty banter.”

“I’m not flirting with you,” I snap, feeling my heart rate kick up. And sigh. “Fine. I’ll agree to your stupid truce.”

He grins, pushing off the mantel. “Excellent. Now. What movie do you want to watch?”

I stare at him.

“What?” He sighs. “What do you possibly have against movies?”

Nothing. That’s beside the point. “We’re stuck here for at least the rest of the day and you want to watch a movie?”

“I know you’re probably unfamiliar with the concept of a snow day, Ms. Workaholic.” Nate spares me a quick glance as he walks across the room to the gray backpack leaning against the wall. Snowball peers down with interest as he unzips the bag and pulls out a silvery-gray laptop. “But most people like to do nothing when presented with such a gift.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“I think you mean amazing.” He walks over to where I’m sitting. “Don’t worry. It’s your first time. I’ll be gentle with you. Take it nice and slow as I show you the ways of us degenerates.”

Before he can sit next to me on the couch, I maneuver around to stretch my legs out on the opposite cushion. Taking up the entire space. Oops. He said a truce, not a friendship circle.

Nate raises a brow, but he lowers himself to the ground in front of the couch without a complaint, placing his laptop on the coffee table.

“Any preferences?” He pulls up a streaming service.

When I don’t say anything, Nate glances at me. His deep blue eyes darken. “Not everything has to be so go, go, go all the time, Paige. You wanted to get away, right? Well, you can’t get more off the grid than this. Let go of your worries for a little bit.”

I don’t know if I can. I don’t think I’m wired that way. But I nod regardless.

Mother Nature isn’t really giving me a choice.