I yank the belt, pulling the rest of it through the buckle and feeling the cool leather tighten around my skin.
Something rises up my throat, almost like vomit but almost like my stomach and how it’s flipping, too. My chest rises and falls in shallow breaths.
I look in the mirror.
The belt fits like a cuff on my wrist, the slack hanging, and I stop breathing, the image of Kaleb grabbing it and tying it to his bed above some girl’s head flashing in my mind.
He yanks the strap, her body jerking, and I whimper.
Jesus. I shake my head and take it off, tossing it back on the bed.
I’m not old enough for that. And…I have two wrists. He only gave me one belt. Nice little scare you tried to give me, Noah.
I shiver again, looking over at my fire. Out of wood. Great.
I drop my blanket on the bed and hurry down the hallway, jogging down the stairs. I’m not going into the shop. It’s too frickin’ cold.
The fire in the great room still crackles, and I hurry over to the stockpile next to the fireplace.
But I can’t resist.
I turn around and bend over just slightly, letting the heat warm the back of my thighs. I face my fingers to the flames as well, wiggling them and basking in the heat.
I tip my head up and see Kaleb sitting in the high back leather chair not three feet away, watching me.
A shotgun lays across his lap, and he holds the neck of a beer bottle in his fingers.
I straighten, the hair on my arms standing on end. “Is everything okay?”
He slouches a little, his long legs bent ninety degrees at the knees as the firelight flashes across his bare chest.
“I know you understand me,” I say. “I know you can nod. Or write or something. Why don’t you want to talk to me?”
The light makes his eyes glow as he watches, and I frown.
He acts like an animal. He just eats and sleeps and…
The shop door opens and closes, and I pull my eyes away from Kaleb to see Noah, walking through the great room.
He looks over at me as he also carries a shotgun.
“Can’t sleep, either?” he asks.
I watch him check the locks. “It was cold,” I reply. “I came to get more wood.”
Why are they both still up? And armed? I thought we were safe.
“Watch a movie with us?” he suggests.
“I thought you said they couldn’t get up here,” I say instead.
He plops down on the couch, propping up the weapon on the arm of the sofa. “They can’t.”
“So why are you both up guarding the place?”
“Precaution.”
“For what?” I press, almost amused. “Is your plan really to open fire on police officers if they show up?”
Noah shakes his head. “Not them.”
I shoot a look to Kaleb, who watches the fire as he takes a drink of his beer, and then back to Noah.
He must see a puzzled expression on my face, because he’s quick to explain.
“Holcomb and his cronies know that we’re safe from them up here during the winter,” he points out, “but also…whatever and whoever is in town… is safe from us, too.” He grabs the beer on the end table and twists off the top, tossing it next to the lamp. “If the snow isn’t as thick as we want, I wouldn’t put it past him to ambush us tonight and try to take you back down the mountain before we woke up and lost our chance to follow you in the weather.”
So…
I glance between them. “You’re guarding me?”
He feigns a smile as his only answer.
They’re awake at one in the morning, armed and alert for me?
“Awwwww,” I croon, faking teary eyes and putting my hand to my heart.
“Shut up,” Noah grumbles.
I laugh quietly, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge.
“So, what will happen, then?” I ask, sitting cross-legged on the couch next to Noah. “When the snow melts, will Kaleb be in trouble?”
What happened tonight was the locals’ fault, but I know if I wasn’t here it wouldn’t have happened at all.
“It’s not your fault,” Noah assures me, pointing the remote and clicking the TV on. “They were looking for you for a reason.”
“Why?”
He takes a deep breath and sighs. “Because for some people, it’s not enough that they have their share,” he explains. “They want it all.”
I study him as he scrolls the streaming choices. I’m not sure I know what he’s talking about, but at least it sounds like this didn’t start with me. I pull the blanket off the back of the sofa and cover up my legs, taking a drink of my beer.
The room falls quiet as we view the selections, but I’m not concentrating very hard. Noah is dressed in black pajama pants and a white sleeveless T-shirt, his skin still so tan and smooth, and I want to roll my eyes at myself for noticing. I just don’t get many opportunities to lounge around with them. They often stay up to watch TV at night, but I’m so wiped by the end of the day, I’m aching for my bed.
He settles on a film, something with Tom Cruise when he was younger, and I lie my head back, holding my beer as I try to watch.
The only thing I know about this movie is that he dances in his underwear, and I find myself constantly looking at Kaleb to see any sign of amusement. Or perhaps a foot tap to the music.
But his face is hidden behind the curve of the chair back, and his body barely shifts during the film.
There’s a decent soundtrack by Tangerine Dream, though. Unfortunately, Tom (or Joel) is a good kid, trying to lose his virginity at the behest of his stupid friends when his parents go out of town for a few days. So what does he do? He hires a hooker and turns his parents’ house into a brothel. It’s nothing more than a teen male fantasy, and I can’t believe this is the movie that turned him into a household name.
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. “This film is so dumb.”
“Is it?” Noah asks, watching Joel and Lana have sex—in public—on a train. “Your laughing over there is sending me mixed signals.”
I never laughed. The comedy is subpar.
“This was similar to how I lost my virginity,” Noah offers, taking a swig of his beer.
I cock an eyebrow and look over at him. “A prostitute?”
“An older woman who only wanted one thing.”
“Your money?”
I hear a breathy laugh and look over, seeing Kaleb’s chest and stomach shake a little. Did I just…? Did he just…?
Oh, my God. He laughed. At my joke.
I finish my beer and set the bottle on the coffee table, the glow from the fire the only thing lighting the dark room. “Well, I’m sorry things didn’t go better for both of you tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last chance for overnight visitors,” I tease. “Nothing to play with this winter.”
Noah sits there a moment, looking like he’s contemplating something. “Maybe,” he says.
I narrow my eyes.
Maybe…
I nod. “You’re right. I mean, you can’t be the only people up here, right?” I ask. “There have to be other mountain men?”
He looks over at me. “Excuse me?”
“More warm bodies,” I clarify, maintaining a straight face. “There have to be more guys holed up in cabins up here, right? It’s okay. It happens in prison. Gay for the stay.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
But before I can answer, he launches over, grabs my legs and pulls me down the couch toward him as he jabs me in my ribs.
I try to hold back my laughter, but a little bit escapes. “Stop.”
“What did you say?” He pokes my inner thighs, and I slap at his hands.
“Well, you are kind of metro.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me what?” I curl, shielding myself from his fingers in my stomach.
“I saw you dancing with Cici at the race.” He leans over me, continuing his attack of jabs. “Maybe same-sex heat turns you on.”
I let out sad, little laughs but plead at him with my eyes. “Stop it.” I shove his hands away, but they keep coming back. “I mean, it’s okay. You have to cope with the seclusion somehow, right?”
He growls and grabs my feet, tickling the underside. I kick, laughing hard. “Stop it!”
But then, all of a sudden, he grabs me by the collar and pulls me up onto his lap.
He wraps his arms around me, whispering in my ear. “You wanna see how we really cope with the seclusion?”
My smile falls, my laughter gone, and I watch as he scrolls the TV’s files and finally clicks on one.
My ass is planted firmly in his lap, my back against his chest, and all I’m aware of is his body underneath mine, through the thin fabric we wear.
The screen goes black, the whole room cast in darkness again except for the fire, and Noah sits back, pulling me with him.
I tense.
Another soft glow lights up the room, but I’m afraid to raise my eyes because I know what he put on the TV.
I can’t look.
But I don’t want to leave, either.
I hear kissing. And rain.
The acting is bad—my face warms with embarrassment for them—but… I don’t know.
I stay sitting there on top of Noah.
It’s a boy and girl in the film. Teenagers. They’re making out in their car, and I can tell from the conversation that they’re in the woods on a rainy night. Secluded and alone.
Or so they think.