Page 4 of Nash
Nash laughs. “Funny,” he says, “I never thought of myself as a city boy. Not until now.”
“Well, you sure don’t know the first thing about these mountains. That’s for sure.”
I should be a little nicer to him. But just because he’s hurt and handsome, doesn’t mean I can’t be angry as hell about missing my girl’s night in with Cassy.
He leans forward and puts his hot cup of cocoa on the table. As he sits back, he winces. The cuts and bruises on his back and shoulders are some of the worst I’ve ever seen. He needs a doctor. But there’s no chance of that happening. Not until the storm passes.
Nash turns his head carefully until he’s looking at me.
I try to ignore him. But it’s like I can feel his eyes roaming my body. Undressing me inch by inch.
I shouldn’t like it, but I do.
I never want it to stop.
“I can’t stop thinking how lucky I am you we’re here,” he says. “It’s like a miracle.”
“Well,” I say, “not exactly a miracle.” With all the excitement I completely forgot why I was up here in the first place. “You’re brother-in-law phoned. He says it’s an emergency. I came up here to pass on the message.”
“An emergency?” He tries to stand up but instantly falls back down into the chair. “What kind of emergency? I need to use a phone.”
“Woah,” I stand up and put my hand on his shoulder. “You ain’t going anywhere, big guy. Not in this weather.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “What about a phone?”
“Up here?” I say. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re about as likely to get service as you are to grow a second dick.”
As soon as the words slip out of my mouth, my cheeks start to burn and I turn away.
I’ve been spending too much time hanging around with the boys at work.
“Hey,” somehow he manages to stand up. He puts his hand on my arm and turns me around. I can’t believe I’m acting this way. “What’s wrong?”
I bite my lip. “Nothing.”
He puts his huge hand on the side of my face. I tilt my head to the side and let him cradle my cheek. Something about it feels so damn right.
“Look,” he says, “it seems like we’re both stuck up here. We might as well make the most of it.”
“The most of it?” I say.
What does that even mean?
Is he hitting on me?
Every single inch of me wants to grab him by the neck and pull him to me. I want to rip my clothes off and ride his cock like there’s an asteroid heading straight for earth and we’ve only got twenty-four hours to live.
But, the reality is, after the storm passes, we’ll both go back to our normal lives.
Nash will go home. I’ll never see him again.
And there’s something about the feelings I’m starting to have for this man, that tells me I might not be able to handle the overwhelming loss when he leaves. Not if I sleep with him.
It’s best just to keep my distance. I’ll have a couple of glasses of whiskey and grab one of the big, heavy blankets and I’ll curl up on the couch and go to sleep and in the morning I can head back down the mountain and pretend like none of this ever happened.
“I've got some food in the cooler,” he says. “A couple of bottles of nice wine. There’s a lovely big fire to keep us warm. We can sit down and eat and talk and have a good time. Sound good?”
It sounds like a date to me. But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. A girl can enjoy herself, can’t she? It’s not like I have to sleep with him.
