Girlfriend. Am I his girlfriend? We haven't discussed labels. We've barely discussed anything beyond the immediate crisis and the immediate need to get each other naked.
"I don't know how to cook rabbit." The words come out flatter than I intended.
Wolfe pauses in the middle of hanging up his coat. "I'll handle it."
"That's not the point."
He turns to face me fully, and I see him register my expression. The tight jaw. The arms crossed over my chest. The way I'm sitting on the edge of the couch like I'm ready to bolt.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Everything." I shake my head. "I don't know."
He doesn't push. Just stands there, waiting, giving me space to figure out what I'm trying to say. It's one of the things I love about him. Also one of the things that drives me crazy.
"You left this morning without telling me."
"I didn't want to wake you."
"That's not the point either." I stand up, pacing to the window, staring out at the endless white. "I woke up alone in your bed and I didn't know where you were. I made coffee and it was terrible. I burned toast. I sat on your couch in your cabin wearing your shirt and I realized I don't know how to do any of this."
"Any of what?"
"This." I gesture at the space between us. "Living here. Being with you. Whatever this is that we're doing."
Silence. I can feel him watching me, processing, trying to figure out the right response.
"You're scared," he says finally.
"I'm realistic." I turn to face him. "Derek's gone. The storm's over. There's no reason for me to still be here except that I want to be, and wanting to be somewhere isn't the same as belonging there."
"You belong here."
"Do I?" I laugh, but it sounds bitter. "I'm a social media influencer from San Diego. I make content about hiking trails and sunset views and which energy bars taste least like cardboard. You're a former Navy SEAL who catches rabbits with snares and speaks maybe fifty words a day. We have nothing in common."
"We have this." He closes the distance between us, stopping just out of reach. "Whatever this is."
"This is adrenaline and proximity and really good sex. This is two people who got thrown together by circumstances and convinced themselves it meant something."
The words taste wrong in my mouth. I don't believe them, not really. But I can't stop saying them, can't stop poking at the fragile thing between us like I'm trying to prove it will break.
Wolfe's expression doesn't change. "Is that what you think?"
"I don't know what I think. That's the problem."
"Then let me tell you what I think." He moves closer, and now he's in my space, close enough to touch but not touching. "I think you're scared because what we have is real and real things can hurt. I think you're looking for reasons to run because staying means being vulnerable. I think you're picking a fight because it's easier than admitting you don't want to leave."
My breath catches. "That's not fair."
"It's true."
"You don't know that."
"I know you, Sadie." His voice is low, intense. "I've known you for five days and I know you better than I've known anyone in years. You talk when you're nervous and you deflect with humor and you push people away when they get too close because you're terrified they'll leave first."
My eyes sting. I blink hard, refusing to cry.
"Derek made you feel like you were too much," Wolfe continues. "So now you're trying to convince yourself that this is too much too. That I'll get tired of you. That the sunshine act will wear thin and I'll realize you're exhausting and annoying and not worth the effort."
