I hate how good he smells. I hate it because every time I hear his voice, look at him, smell him, it’s hard to force the fact that I’m still married out of my head. I’m technically single, but it still doesn’t feel right to acknowledge the tension brewing between us. My attraction toward him guilts me.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask softly.
“It means…” He shakes his head and leans on one side of his hip. “It means, why do you want to get to know me? You’re going to leave soon.” His fingers lurch to my chin until he’s tipping it upwards. I submissively let him direct my body as I stand. “Talking leads to attachment. And attachment leads to disappointment.” He breathes against my lips teasingly, then pulls back with disdain written all over his face.
“That’s an awful way to look at things,” I counter.
“It’s the reality.”
“I think you’ve protected your peace a little too much in these mountains.” I huff. “Where are you going? Are you headed toward the same place you were hiding for three days?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” he grumbles. He takes another drag and blows the smoke over his shoulder, keeping his eyes trained on mine. His gaze falls shorty to my lips before he pulls away.
“I’m curious,” I point out. It’s not a lie. I want to get to know him even when he’s being hot and cold all the time.
“I have stuff to do today. I don’t have time for your inquisition.”
“Like what?” I lift a brow. “Where are you going? To make a snowman?”
He’s so serious all the time. He makes it so easy to get under his skin. It’s actually fun.
“Shed hunting.”
Out of all the things I thought he was going to say, that wasn’t one of them.
“Shed hunting? What is that?”
Gavin gives me a long sweep from head to toe before he concedes. He turns around and continues to saunter away, looking more relaxed than he did in the kitchen. I push off the tree and soldier into the snow until I’m right beside him.
“Slow down, I have little legs,” I complain as I try to match his fast pace. “My legs aren’t as long as yours.”
An icy wind rattles the leaves and branches. God, he’s so tall.
“Fine,” I offer. “I’ll help you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Coraline, go back to the cabin.”
“No.”
“Do you know any other word than no?”
“Whatever. So why do you like shed hunting?”
“You’re annoying.”
“Yes,” I tell him, stepping over a branch.
He’s given up on trying to convince me to go back, and I cherish the small victory over the long silence. I gaze up at the mountains, wrapping my head around the beauty. Now that the snow fog has cleared, everything is clearer. There’s a bright blue lake running not too far from here.
“Every spring, animals shed their antlers. I collect them. That’s why I call it shed hunting.”
Finally!
He’s opening up to me.
