Brighton scurried back to her bed, burrowed under the covers,and tried to sleep, but she couldn’t get warm. Her toes were like ice, and she could never sleep when her feet were cold. But it wasn’t just her extremities. Herboneswere cold. She couldn’t stop shivering, her teeth clacking together. She spent at least an hour like that, close to tears, envisioning losing her nose to frostbite. She knew she was catastrophizing, but outside the snow still fell, accumulating around them like a cocoon, and she couldn’t think straight with her blood slowly solidifying.
She threw the covers back, the need for warmth overriding everything else. She flung open her door and hurried to the other side of the cabin to Charlotte’s room. She didn’t knock. Didn’t slowly creak the door open. She just barged in and tapped a sleeping Charlotte on the shoulder.
“Hmm,” Charlotte said, unmoving.
“Charlotte,” Brighton whisper-yelled, the name barely understandable through her shivers.
“M’sleeping,” Charlotte mumbled.
“I know, I’m sorry. I just…” Brighton hopped from one foot to the other. “I’m freezing.”
Charlotte slowly rolled over, cracked one eye open. “What?”
“The power’s out. There’s no heat.”
Charlotte lifted her brows. “Seriously?”
Brighton nodded. “Can I…?” She nodded to the bed. It was a queen, large enough that they wouldn’t have to touch, but the concept of body heat was the only thing keeping Brighton going at the moment. She waited for Charlotte to laugh, to tell her to get lost, but Charlotte just stared at her for a second before flipping the thick green-and-red plaid comforter back. She scooted over a little to make room for Brighton—Charlotte’s default was sleeping in the middle of the bed, which meant that when they weretogether, Brighton had woken up most mornings with some part of her girlfriend draped over or wrapped around her.
Brighton didn’t hesitate. She practically dove into the warm spot created by Charlotte’s sleeping body. Charlotte didn’t falter either—she flung the covers back over them, locking them in. Brighton sighed in relief, tucked her hands to her chest, and waited for Charlotte to situate herself a few inches away, but then…
More warmth.
Arms wrapping around Brighton, pulling her close.
Brighton held her breath, nodded when Charlotte asked if it was okay, her words still slurred with sleep. Charlotte might not have been thinking clearly, might never have done this in the light of day, but Brighton couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment.
Right now, the only person she’d ever loved was holding her, a chilly nose pressed to the back of Brighton’s neck. Right now, there were no drunken confessions or abandoned altars or misunderstandings. There wasn’t a New York or a Nashville. There was onlythis.
Two childhood best friends turned lovers, holding on to each other in a storm.
Chapter 21
Charlotte flung off her covers,wondering why the hell she was so damnhot.
It was morning, but the light coming in through the blinds on her window looked odd, as though it were muffled in some way. She was sweating, her flannel pajamas damp, and when she moved her ankle a bit to see how it was faring, she ran into another leg.
Not her own.
“What the hell?” she said, scooting out of bed so fast she nearly tripped on a part of the comforter that was draping onto the floor.
Brighton stirred, rubbing her eyes as she sat up.
“What’s—”
“Exactly,” Charlotte said. “What’s going on? Why are you in my bed?”
But even as she asked, foggy memories came back to her.
The power’s out.
Can I…?
Then there were absurd flashes of arms wrapped around bodies and nuzzling, but surely,surely, that wasn’t Brighton.
She curled her hands into fists.
She knew it was.
