“Sloane …”
“No.” She cuts me off. “I know you’re used to handling everything yourself. I know you’re the hero who saves everyone else. But right now, you’re not on duty. You’re not working. You’re just a guy stuck in a cabin with a girl who cares about whether you freeze to death.”
The words hang in the air between us. Cares about whether you freeze to death.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” I say quietly. “You were sleeping so peacefully.”
“I don’t care. Next time, wake me.” Her voice softens. “Please.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Next time, I’ll wake you.”
She nods, satisfied, and turns to leave. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
“Sloane?”
She pauses, looking back.
“Thank you. For taking care of me.”
Something shifts in her expression. Softens. “That’s what emergency friends do, right?”
I smile despite the cold still lingering in my bones. “Right.”
She leaves, closing the door behind her, and I stand under the warm water, thinking about how this woman I’ve known for barely two days, and she is upset that I scared her going out in the snow.And I hate how much I liked it.
I’m dressed in dry clothes and sitting on the couch with Sloane curled up next to me, a thick blanket wrapped around both of us. She’s holding the mug of tea, making sure I drink it, and her free hand is on my chest, like she needs to feel my heartbeat to confirm I’m really okay.
“The storm’s getting worse,” she observes, looking at the window.
“Yeah. We’re probably going to be stuck here at least another day, maybe two.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “Is that okay with you?”
I look down at her, at this woman who just took care of me with the same fierce protectiveness I’ve been showing her. At this woman who’s been hurt and betrayed but still has room in her heart to worry about someone else.
“Yeah,” I say honestly. “It’s more than okay.” She snuggles closer, and I wrap my arm around her, holding her tight.
Outside, the storm rages on. But in here, we’re warm and safe and together. And for now, that’s enough.
10
SLOANE
Iwake up wrapped around Jax like a koala. My leg is thrown over his hip, my arm across his chest, my face buried in the crook of his neck. We’re in bed. I vaguely remember him carrying me here sometime after he warmed up, and the morning light filtering through the window is soft and gray. The storm is still going, but it’s quieter now. Less violent. I don’t move. Don’t want to disturb this moment. Because last night changed something between us, and I’m terrified and exhilarated in equal measure.
When I saw him standing there in the entryway, covered in snow and ice, shaking so hard he could barely speak, my heart stopped. Actually stopped. And in that moment, I realized something that scared me more than Chett’s betrayal, more than being alone, more than anything.
I care about Jax Reid.
Not just ‘this is fun’ care. Not just ‘good sex’ care. Real, genuine, terrifying care. The kind where the thought of something happening to him makes my chest ache. The kind where seeing him hurt makes me want to fight the storm itself. The kind I swore I wouldn’t feel again.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Jax mumbles, his voice rough with sleep. His arm tightens around me, pulling me impossibly closer.
“How can you tell I’m thinking?”
“Your breathing changes. You get all tense.” His hand slides up my back, warm and soothing. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
I hesitate. We’ve been honest about the physical stuff, about the ‘fun’ we’re having. But this? This feels different. Bigger.
