Page 22 of Wrapped Up In You
“I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.” He slammed his lips into mine, electricity snapping and popping between us in the chilly December air. Eagerly, I opened for him, accepting the onslaught greedily. He tasted like syrup and laughter, and I could have kissed him like that for hours.
“We’re wearing too many clothes.” His lips moved against mine as he uttered the words as if he couldn’t bear to break contact long enough to speak.
“We should do something about that.” I dove in for another kiss, not wanting to break the contact either.
Abruptly, he jerked away, grabbing my hand and tugging me down the path with purpose.
“You know we only got about half of the snow cleared…” I couldn’t resist throwing that in his face.
“It’ll melt.” He glanced over his shoulder without breaking stride, tossing me a smirk with one eyebrow raised. “Eventually.”
I laughed, loving every bit of this playful side of him. “What’s gotten into you?” We stumbled into the cabin and began unwinding scarves and untying shoes, hastily trying to strip out of all our layers.
He kicked off his boots, then leaned over and kissed me on the nose. “It’s Christmas. Maybe I’m tired of taking life too seriously. Tired of analyzing every step I take and looking for all the ways it could go wrong. Maybe I want to live a little more like you.”
He leaned in to kiss me again, but I pulled back before his lips could touch mine. “What do you mean ‘a little more like me?’”
He pulled back, a little wrinkle forming between his brows. “Carefree. Not worrying about the consequences of your actions. Just taking life as it comes.”
I pulled back even farther so we were no longer touching. A drop of melted snow slid down my back, and I shivered. “Is that how you see me? As someone who doesn’t care about the consequences of his actions? Someone who’s thoughtless about others?”
He frowned and reached for me, but I took another step back. “Come on, Hay. You know that’s not what I meant. I don’t think you’re thoughtless.”
“But you do think I don’t care about the consequences of my actions?” God, we were right back where we’d started two days ago.
“Don’t twist my words.” Waves of frustration rolled off him. “I never said you didn’t care. I only meant that you didn’t worry about everything all the time.”
All the playfulness from just moments ago was gone completely. Instead, the air was thick with anger and frustration as we faced off against each other in the entryway.
“Oh, I see. I don’t worry about things. Got it.” I ripped off my beanie and peeled off my socks, which were soaked through from the snow that had slid into my shoes. “Well, I’m going to gonot worryabout the fact you’re an asshole in the shower.”
“Dammit, Hay! Don’t walk away like that,” he called out, but I waved him off, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door.
13
JONATHAN
The click of the door to the bathroom closing echoed throughout the cabin. It felt like a death knell to whatever this was between us.
But I didn’t want that. I wasn’t done with Hayden, no matter that this was supposed to be a fling with an expiration date. We hadn’t reached that date, and I wasn’t ready to let him go, dammit. I was starting to think I wouldn’t ever want to let him go. But that was future Jonathan’s problem. For now, I needed to fix this.
I replayed the conversation we’d just had, trying to figure out where it’d all gone to shit. I hadn’t meant to insult him. He wasn’t thoughtless. In fact, he was incredibly thoughtful.
But those had been his words, not mine. I hadn’t said he was thoughtless. I’d said he was carefree. Why was that bad? To live life without having paralyzing anxiety over every decision one made sounded liberating.
Still confused, I crossed to the bathroom and knocked. I could hear the shower running and wondered if he was ignoring my knock or if he couldn’t hear it over the sound of the water. I tested the handle, and when it turned, I slowly pushed the door open.
The small bathroom had already filled with steam, heating the space and fogging the mirror. I quietly closed the door behind me and sat on the toilet.
“Hay?” I called cautiously. Something hit the floor of the bathtub, probably the bar of soap. “Jesus. Fuck. You followed me in here?”
“Help me understand where I went wrong. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
He pulled back the shower curtain just enough so I could see his face. His eyes searched mine for a moment. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
At a loss, I shook my head.
He released a sigh, then said, “Get in here.”
