My gaze drops to the floor. Something seems off about that. I look up as I try to see the top of my head. When I find out that’s not possible my brows furrow. Noah puts his free hand on my upper arm and guides me forward into the SUV. For no reason other than the fact that I got the good painkillers, I laugh, big and loud.
He leans over me to help buckle me in, and his signature ocean-breeze scent wafts under my nose.
I love the ocean.
The wind.
The sun.
The breeze.
The cute men in swim trunks with deep olive tans. Before I have a chance to filter my words, I word vomit, “I bet you look good in swim trunks.”
“Excuse me?” One brow rises higher than the other, and he freezes.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. It was a reasonable observation.” I flatten my palm to my chest in a humble position. “You were just so fragrant. Like the ocean. Beach. Place. Not like a sewer.” I gesture into the silence as I think of a suitable way to explain how random this is, but my brain is fuzzy. It’s like they gave me truth serum. The only thing I’m capable of is oversharing all my thoughts that should never be spoken. “You look good anywhere.” I smirk as my body is Jell-O, just a glob of mass without bones or even sore muscles.
A shocked chuckle bursts out of him as he shuts the door and runs along to the other side of the car. The drive back to the lodge to meet up with Sophie and Axl is a bit of a haze. These meds make my thoughts so fuzzy and disjointed, I hardly even know what I’m saying. I’m quite sure I didn’t shut up for a single second. I blubbered all the way back to the ski resort. I don’t even think I muster full sentences. It’s more like random words. Nachos. Snuggles. Hot chocolate. Hockey. Kissing. Kissing. Kissing.
After picking up Sophie and Axl, we arrive at our cabin a few minutes later. Noah slips his arm around my waist and gently pulls me from the car.
I’m not a fan of walking.
But I love being in his arms.
Been craving that most of the day, and it’s fantastic. Aside from the fact that my feet drag like wet rags made of bricks over the light dusting of snow, Noah does a decent job of tugging me forward. “How many pills did they give you?” he asks.
“Two,” I answer. I stare off into space, holding up two index fingers trying to count. “There was one white one and two blue ones.”
“That’s three.” Sophie corrects me as she holds the cabin front door open wide for us, and I pass over the threshold with Noah.
“I think we can agree she had more than enough for all of us,” Axl quips as he hangs back, waiting for us to get through the door. His hands are filled with all our bags, since he was the only one not preoccupied with getting me into the cabin.
Sophie comes up on the other side of me, helping Noah guide me to the couch in the center of the room. She speaks in a soft voice, “I think she needs to rest until some of these meds wear off.”
“I’m not tired.” I zigzag a medicated index finger at her, and I giggle when I realize it no longer hurts to do that. I do it again because I can.
Sophie gestures for me to walk forward, coaxing me like a toddler who just figured out how to walk. “Just lay down and take a little rest. When you wake up, we’ll have some food ready.”
Her tone is so soothing that, despite the fact I’m wide awake, I slide my feet toward her. “I feel fine.” I plop down on the couch, stretching out. Before I can utter another word, Noah has a flannel blanket swaddled around me. As he tucks it tight around my stomach, I grab his hand and let out a series of giggles, squealing, “That tickles.”
“Close your eyes.” He sounds hot when he says that, so I listen. Not before I pat the top of his head twice, like he’s somedomesticated animal. His hair is soft, and it brings more ocean waves . . .
Now that my eyes are closed, I visualize his floating head. He’s handsome with his dreamy dark eyes and his plump pouty lips that look so kissable.
Of course, I observe how soft they look.
Wait a second . . .
Am I sleeping or am I talking?
Oh, and did he say if I upgrade the ski plan, we can kiss? I vaguely remember something about that option. The details are fairly opaque.
My thoughts garble together in wave-like patterns.
Or maybe I’m speaking out loud?
Who knows.
