"Comfortable?" he asks.
"Very."
"Good."
The fire crackles.
"Jake?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. You didn’t have to do this."
"I wanted to," he says quietly. "I know we just met. But I wanted to."
My chest tightens.
"Goodnight, Madison."
"Goodnight, Jake."
I close my eyes.
I can feel the warmth of him in the dark.
Sleep takes a long time.
Chapter 4
Jake
I wake up with a face full of hair that isn't mine and a body pressed against me in ways that make my morning significantly more complicated.
Her head is on my chest. Her arm is thrown across my stomach. Her leg is hooked over my thigh in a way that puts her knee dangerously close to territory that is very much awake and very much aware of her presence.
I start to extract myself, and she makes a sound. A soft, sleepy little moan that vibrates through my chest. Then she burrows closer, her fingers curling into my shirt.
"Mmm. Warm."
Okay. New plan. Lie here and wait for her to wake up naturally.
I stare at the ceiling and listen to the storm still raging outside. The fire has burned down to embers. It's early, maybe six, judging by the gray light. We're not getting out of here today. Probably not tomorrow either, from the sound of that wind.
Which means at least two more days with Madison Tate wrapped around me like I'm her personal heating system.
There are worse fates.
She shifts again, and her knee slides higher. I set my jaw and think about tax codes. Property assessments. The water damage in the Hendersons' basement that I need to get an estimate on.
Her eyes flutter open.
For a moment, she doesn't realize where she is. She looks soft and unfocused, her dark hair a mess across my chest. Almost vulnerable.
Then awareness hits.
I watch it happen. The confusion, the recognition, the horror as she realizes she's wrapped around me like a vine.
"Oh my God."
