If I were to be her introduction to sexual pleasure, I’d need to be damn sure she was ready for me.I’d want it to be a slow, incremental process.I’d need to take my time with her, guide her, and encourage her while I protect her from any kind of harm.
The experience would have to be perfect.Because she’ll lose her virginity once in this lifetime.It should be something she can look back on with a smile and a sigh.
I want that for her.A woman that kind and good-natured deserves nothing less.
I place my hand on the latch and step inside.It’s silent.I see the firelight flickering on the other side of the tarps.
I take off all my outerwear, staying as quiet as I can while my mind continues to spin.
In a few moments, I’ll be sliding under the covers with Phoebe.I’ll be sleeping with her.Now would be a good time to remind myself of what’s important here.
Responsibility.
Protection.
Trust.
Nothing more.
I place more logs on the fire and heat up a pan of water.While it warms, I look over my shoulder to Phoebe.She’s sound asleep, on her side facing the fire, the blankets pulled snug around her.
Her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks.I can just make out the freckles across her nose and the rise and fall of her breath.Her lips are parted just the tiniest bit.Such a soft pink.
I look away.Why torture myself?Where’s the benefit in that?What’s the point of admiring something I can’t have?
Responsibility, protection, trust…it’s my new mantra.I sound like I’m selling fucking home and auto insurance.
The water is heated.I grab a towelette and soap from the supplies, then carry them along with the warm water into the icy-cold back room.I pull the curtain, pour the water into an old ceramic wash bowl I found in a cabinet, and give myself a quick cleanup.
By quick, I mean lightning fast, since I’d prefer not to freeze my balls off.Just the essentials.I’d like to spare Phoebe the side effects of a day’s worth of climbing, shoveling, digging, and axe-wielding.Even in bitter cold, I’m the kind of man who sweats it out.
I dry off on my T-shirt, then put on my thermal underwear once more.I won’t be much to look at during our brief blizzard adventure, but Phoebe has seen me well-dressed plenty of times.She knows I have style.
And anyway, who cares what I look like or what I’m wearing?This isn’t some kind of reality TV dating show.It’s real life.Realer than real.
I remember what Cal said when I first told him I planned to follow him and Finn into the Navy and then become a SEAL.I asked him to tell me about the biggest lesson he’d learned up to that point.
He thought about it a moment and said, “When you’re in the shit, your world shrinks down to a pinprick of attention.The pointless stuff falls away.All you see is what’s right in front of you and who’s most important to you, and then you do your job.”
He was right, as Cal often is.
I’m in the shit right now, for sure.And Phoebe is the only thing I see and the person most important to me.My job is her wellbeing.Everything else has fallen away.
Seeing it like that makes it pretty simple.
I hang up my wet coveralls and shirt near the fire, then check the logs one last time.The flue seems to be holding together, so for now at least, it’s all clear.Still safe.
Now I have to decide where I should situate myself.Do I lie in front of Phoebe, providing a shield in case a log should dislodge or a spark carry?Or do I spoon her from behind, where I can warm her back while the fire warms her front?
I decide on the second option.I’ll just do what I’ve done thousands of times before—let my body rest while my mind stays half awake, alert to any potential danger.
I’ll put out any fires.Literally.
I grab the emergency blanket from the couch and walk around behind Phoebe, sliding down next to her and on top of the old rug.
There’s no point in tugging at the blankets so we can share.That would only wake her up and I know she’s exhausted.So I press my front to her back and pull the space blanket over both of us.I’ll be fine.If I get cold I’ll just suck it up.
I’ve survived far worse.
