Page 54
“If you need anything, just step outside and call my name. I’ll hear you. Everything echoes here.”
“Sure. You got it. Thanks.” I can’t look at him right now. My right leg shakes as I try to keep myself seated and not wrap my body around his.
What the hell is going on with me?
He doesn’t let my shoulder go. Of course not. He loves to torture me. Alaska releases the grip he has on me, only to drag his fingers across my back, sending a shiver down my spine.
A simple, innocent gesture that was probably an accident or means nothing, yet I want it to mean something to him.
I want to mean something to him.
He snags his black cowboy hat and long black coat from the rack. Swinging the door open, a cool breeze sweeps through, and I shiver. Alaska backtracks, heading around the dining room table to the living room.
The layout of the cabin is very open, cozy, and a little small, but perfect for Alaska and his friends. The living room is open to the dining room, the chalet-style windows allowing the sunlight to pour in, making the area seem more spacious than it really is.
There’s a worn leather couch sitting to the left against the wall, a giant red blanket folded over the plush arm. Alaska grabs it, his thundering steps becoming louder the closer he gets to me.
The loud pounding might be my heart and the rush of blood in my veins as the distance between us becomes less and less.
I stare at his hand as Alaska reaches for the chair, turning it with a flick of his wrist. The chair grinds since I’m sitting in it. How did he move me so easily? Without effort. Without strain. He didn’t ask me to get up to get out of his way.
“What is it? Do you need me to move?” I try to stand, but his massive palm lands in the middle of my chest, keeping me in place.
He squats, and it puts him at eye level with me while I sit. The blanket wraps around my shoulders, his fingers close to my jaw as he pulls the blanket across my chest.
His thumb skims across my throat, and again, I can’t tell if it’s an accident or if he is trying to steal touches.
Like magnets, our gazes find each other, locked and unmoving. Alaska leans forward, his eyes darting to my mouth before looking up at me again.
Damn it, kiss me. Kiss me to put me out of this misery.
“There. Sorry about that. There are more blankets in the basket next to the couch if you get cold. Help yourself to anything, and remember, the radio works now. I’m sure your sister is worried sick and…Brian.”
“I’ll make sure to let them know I’m okay. Thank you. For everything. I really appreciate it, Alaska.”
So much for that kiss.
He gives a curt nod and stands, rubbing a hand over his mouth before heading towards the door again.
“And he isn’t your boyfriend?”
My brows raise in surprise at that question because I thought we went over this already. I pull the blanket tight around me, wishing it was Alaska keeping me warm.
“Ah, no. Not my boyfriend.” I pick up my fork and push the eggs around, feeling a little awkward and tense.
“Are you sure?”
A crooked smile tilts my lips. “I’m sure. I’m not—well—I’ve never been with a man before. And Brian is great, but if I were to be with a man, he isn’t my type.” I can’t believe I said that. I don’t even know if I have a type. If I do, Alaska fits it perfectly.
“You…have a type?” He sounds just as unsure as I feel.
“I…” I fix my attention on him, roaming his body as if I’m undressing him with my eyes. “I just might,” I finally say, doing my best to put all the cards on the table.
Those red irises brighten, and he looks away, turning his head to hide himself. I swear, two white points are poking from between his lips.
“Would…” he begins, the word strangled and choked in his throat.
“Would I what?” I lean a bit closer, wanting him to finish his question because whatever he asks, the answer is yes.
