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Chapter 10

Ruben

Damn it! Goddamn it! What was Shane doing in my cabin?

“Get out!” That was the best I could come up with.

Shane twisted his mouth and seized me up with a raised eyebrow. Without breaking eye contact, he dropped his luggage on the floor.

“This is number seven, right?” he asked.

“What? Yes! My apartment. Get out!” I barked again.

With a rip, he tore open his ski jacket. “Then it’s my apartment too, and I’m staying.”

“You! What?” I gasped. “That can’t be.”

“Not only can it be, it is. . . . ” He gazed around. At the two beds pushed up against opposite walls. “I’m guessing this is your bed.” He pointed to my unmade bed, which was on the side of the bathroom and away from the front door. “Then I’ll take that one.” With a smug sigh, he flopped down on the second bed.

His legs, still wearing boots, dangled off the end. He stretched luxuriously, and I stood there as if struck by lightning.

What was happening here? Water was still dripping from my hair onto my shoulders. The cabin door was ajar, and the ice-cold air rushed around my calves.

Shane raised his head slightly and let his gaze drift over me. “I didn’t think I’d ever see that again.”

I inhaled deeply. What did he mean by that? That he didn’t want to see my flawed figure? It was one thing that I constantly questioned myself about my appearance, that I used my insecurities as an excuse to avoid discussions and possible pain—okay—to run away from these discussions as if the devil himself were after me. But it was something else entirely when someone else made fun of me. I wouldn’t tolerate that.

I lifted my chin, put my hands on my hips, and stared at him defiantly.

“What’s that supposed to mean? That you can’t stand the sight of me?”

Shane’s eyes widened almost comically, and he stared at me. “Okay?” He pushed himself up on his elbows and checked me out unabashedly.

Oh. Well. The crumpled T-shirt thing hadn’t covered anything on me, anyway. Frustrated, I threw it on my bed.

“What? Okay?” I snapped at him. “What is it, that repels you about me?”

“Nothing. I said that I didn’t expect to see you and your body again.”

My shock-addled brain processed the last few sentences. Ah. Right. That’s kind of what he had said. And his facial expression, which was more than marked by astonishment, did not indicate any mockery. Hm. What did he mean then?

There I stood. Akin to a Greek statue that no longer knew what or why. Adrenaline was still pulsing through my veins. Damn. What were we doing here?

I was standing stark naked in front of my ex- . . . ex-something. It was so cold that the hairs on my whole body stood on end, and Shane continued to stare at me openly, as if he had nothing else to do today. The fact that my body hair stood on end was not because of Shane’s gaze, but solely because of the damn cold.

That look.

Was it the same he had given me hungrily in the summer? I couldn’t think with him lying there in front of me and me wearing nothing at all. I couldn’t bear to see him any longer. I could hardly stand his self-assured smugness.

Ignoring Shane, I went to the door to finally close it.

“Really? Even now, you’re running away from me?” His words were malicious, bitter, and wrapped around my neck like a tightening noose.

I slammed the front door shut with a loud bang. “I’m not running anywhere. Someone didn’t close the door,” I snapped.

“Is that so? You’ll forgive me for suspecting that, considering our last few encounters.”

I gritted my teeth and stomped back into the bathroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shane get up, take off his jacket, and open his luggage.