Page 164 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 3

“You like it?” Damon asked, pushing the door behind us.

As it clicked shut, silence settled around us, and I turned to him, stepping close enough to put my arms around his body. “I love it. I absolutely love it.”

Damon lifted one corner of his mouth, smiling devilishly, and looked into my eyes. “I knew you would.”

“When did we stop casting curses on one another and start being sweet?” I asked.

“You never know. I might lock you outside when we get out of the tub,” he said. “Gonna make myself a Seth popsicle.”

“That…sounds dirty,” I said, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

“And that is why it’s you here with me and not anyone else,” he said, laughing to himself as he carried our things to a corner and plopped down into the sofa. “God, I love a nice fireplace. Why don’t we always live like this?”

“I could live like this,” I said, coming over and sitting next to him. I casually scooted closer and into the fold of his arm where it rested along the back of the sofa. “It’s always ‘you up?’ and never ‘let’s build a log cabin and make preserves and collect firewood all year long.’”

“Romance is truly dead,” Damon agreed.

My gaze traveled from his warm eyes to the fire in the fireplace. String lights stretched along the walls, lamps hid in various corners, candles burned in brass holders in many places, and the entire cabin smelled like orange peel and cinnamon. The daylight was already draining from the sky as I leaned against Damon, head resting on his shoulder.

A faint reflection of us played in the window. We looked…

We looked like boyfriends.

We looked like we were home, together, only missing a playful cat running around, raising hell. And my heart beat a little faster as the image burned itself into my mind.

Damon leaned in and kissed the top of my head. He did that a lot. At first, I’d thought it was a way to tease me about my height, but then he kept doing it when we were in bed or sitting near each other, and I got used to it.

My hand rested on his chest, moving lower bit by bit until it was on his stomach, and tears burned in my eyes.

He wasn’t breathing either. Poor guy. He had no idea what to do with an irrational hookup, and neither did I. So I got up, mumbled something about washing my hands, and shut myself in the bathroom. My eyes were red-rimmed already, and my breath was shallow as I held back a sob. What the hell was happening to me?

I exhaled slowly, water running in the sink, and splashed my face a few times before I trusted myself to hold on to my senses.

I stepped out of the bathroom and found Damon standing by the window, sniffing like he’d caught a cold. For one moment only, I thought it would be so romantic if he had. We wouldn’t get to do all the fun things we’d planned, but I would take care of him for a few days, make him soup and tea and cut fruit for him and spoon him if he had a fever.

He turned around with a big smile on his face, barely containing the relief that I wasn’t crying or something. We bluffed our way through unpacking our things and putting together a very light cocktail with a splash of white rum and crushed herbs.

Damon turned on the lights on the back porch, although they were low and warm, strung wide above the hot tub, and raised an eyebrow at me invitingly. “I’m dying to know what it’s like,” he said.

“We can’t have you die,” I said. “I can’t drive.”

“Right, it’s so on-brand to want me to stay alive so you can hitch a ride back, Kane,” he said. “So, you better take off your pants because we’re going out for a dip.”

For no other reason than to maintain some artificial mystery, I went into the bathroom to change into a pair of shorts, feeling like I’d gone mad now that I was stepping out of a warm cabin and into the snow while wearing a little more than nothing.

Snowflakes kissed my bare flesh where they landed and melted as I tiptoed after equally underdressed Damon toward the hot tub. He laughed as he almost slipped on the melting snow and paused to wait for me. He stood outside in the cold by the steps leading into the tub, his arm stretched out and hand open for me to hold as I climbed in. I wouldn’t applaud him for being a gentleman. It would only feed his ego. Besides, he was getting rewarded plenty a little later.

I dipped one foot inside the bubbling hot water, the contrast making me feel like I was about to be boiled. A moment later, as I stepped inside a little deeper, the cold lifted off me, and a sort of relaxation I’d never felt before settled around me.

Damon followed me inside the tub, groaning the way he always did when pleasure caught him off guard. We lowered ourselves to the seats, and the water swallowed me to my shoulders.

Damon needed to slide a little further to cover his broad shoulders, his face flushed and hair damp from snowflakes and rising steam. He was so beautiful with his parted lips and a deep breath leaving him. “This, I tell you, is life we’re meant to live,” he said.

“You won’t hear me complaining. For once.” We laughed at that, and Damon got up to close the distance between us. When he was near me, he threw his arm up and rested it along the back of my seat.

I settled under it, one hand holding my cocktail above the surface, the other moving playfully along Damon’s leg.

“You know what’s funny?” I said, tracing lazy circles on Damon’s thigh underwater. “Six months ago, if someone told me I’d be sitting half-naked in a hot tub with you, willingly, I would’ve reported them for psychological terrorism.”