Now that the fear of freezing to death had subsided, my brain caught up to the position we were in. He smelled like firewood and linen, and he’d placed his face against my neck. His breath tickled my exposed skin, and tiny goose bumps broke out over my body. Not from the cold.
Despite all the clothes we wore, awareness of how hard and strong his body was against mine washed over me. His lips were so close, almost touching the spot just below my ear. His quickened breathing. The way his hand now rested against my stomach. The crackling sounds of the fire and the wind howling outside painted the perfect romantic picture. Sadly, nothing about this was romantic. He was only helping me warm up. And it worked—now I had to be responsible and tell him.
“I think I’m warm enough now.” I said, moving to put some distance between us.
“Couple more minutes.” He pulled me even closer, his deep voice vibrating against my back. “Are you feeling okay? Comfortable?”
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed, enjoying his body pressed against mine a little too much. “Very comfortable.”
Big guys weren’t really my type, but I liked how large he was. It made me feel petite and safe. Nothing would happen to me if we stayed like this for the entire week. I was sure of it.
“Good.” He hugged me closer and rested his chin on my shoulder.
His chin was in the perfect position to kiss my neck if he wanted.But he won’t kiss me, right?I froze as he adjusted his position, momentarily pressing his very cold nose against my skin before relaxing against me.
“Sorry. My leg fell asleep. I needed to change position,” he whispered.
I cleared my throat, hoping my voice sounded normal when I spoke. “If you’re uncomfortable, I’m fine, really.”
It was too much: the cold, Harrison, the ping-pong of my brain wanting his kisses but also not wanting to deal with it. Okay, who was I kidding, I wanted him to kiss me, but it would be inappropriate. We were blizzard buddies. He thought I was super weird and unworthy of a second date.Remember that, Becca. Don’t let the temp mess with your mind.
Kissing my neighbor was not on my to-do list.
He tightened his hold, and a tiny, almost inaudible sigh left his chest. I wanted to bottle up that sound and listen to it on lonely nights. It was adorable. Cute, little, content Harrison in his hot Henley shirt. I could write a poem about his sound.
Uh-oh! My mind is officially discombobulated.
“No need to guilt-cuddle me. I can move all my toes and fingers.” I wiggled my fingers against his hand resting at my waist. “Even my broken pinky toe.”
“You broke your pinky toe?” he asked, still not letting go of me.
“Dance-off with the girls. I got second place.” I thought about how confident I’d been doing the worm. It had worked until I kicked the TV stand and pain exploded in my foot.Becca Fairfield—second-place dancing queen.
“Of course, it was dancing.” His voice was thick with amusement.
I needed to stopOperation Cuddle My Blizzard Buddybefore I turned around and kissed the hell out of him. Just to shut him up. Not at all because I liked him.
“Well, I’m toasty now.” I cleared my throat, my stomach swooping every time his lips grazed my neck. Each goose bump reminded me how long it had been since I’d hooked up with someone.Too long.
“Maybe I’m enjoying this, Becca, and that’s why I’m not getting up yet.”
Wait! What?
Enjoying this? What did that even mean? My entire body tensed with indecision. Did I respond? Wait for more? Wiggle my ass against him for encouragement?
“I was cold, too. This helps,” he said after a moment of silence.
Oh, right.Duh.
Nervous laughter bubbled up and escaped before I could stop it. “I thought you were flirting with me for a second. How reassuring that you weren’t.”
“Who says I wasn’t?”
Oh, snap.
We were at an impasse, neither responding nor moving, and the silence drove me crazy. Thank God I faced the fire and not him—even though his face was right against my neck. He admitted to flirting. Kind of. A thrill rushed through me because I hadn’t imagined it, but why would he flirt? He didn’t like me… did he?
The more the silence dragged on, the more my thoughts rambled, and word vomit was a real possibility.Do I mention the date from two years ago? Do I admit I want to kiss him? Do I pretend I’m asleep and start snoring?
