Chapter Nineteen

It shouldn't have surprised me that Orion Broderick was a delightful, diligent lover, but I found myself a little surprised anyway. I never really thought of sex as a thing where you can study, practice, and improve, but whatever concentration he'd brought to becoming an exceptional soccer player, it seemed he'd also brought to other physical feats.

And it didn't hurt that he was strong AF, with stamina to match.

Scraps, who ignored us for some time, finally became annoyed enough to jump down off the bed and return to her wool blanket, which Orion had folded and left in the corner as a makeshift dog bed. She eyed us resentfully before huffing a breath and falling back to sleep.

And we—sweating, hearts pounding with exertion, breaths coming in hard—collapsed into giggles, holding each other like we'd never seen anything so funny.

"Poor Gizmo," Orion panted. "Do you think we're awful dog foster parents?"

"I think Scraps will be fine. But probably when we're, y'know, done, we should bring her back to the bed so she doesn't freeze."

He leaned over me, fingernail tracing one of my nipples. "You're preoccupied with freezing."

"Because we're literally snowed in ."

"Yeah, inside an insulated house with weatherized doors and windows. And a kick-ass woodstove."

I lifted my head enough to kiss him. "That's fair. Which reminds me, uhh, what's our plan? Like, what do we do after tonight?"

"We let tomorrow handle itself." He lowered his head to my chest, lips trailing down my body.

"Are you saying that not obsessing about every detail is an option? Because I don't think that's in my playboooooo ..." My words trailed off as he became extra distracting. "Umm ..." I threaded my fingers through his hair and let thought melt away into sensation. Tomorrow would handle itself. Wise man, Orion Broderick. Wise, wise man ...

The morning was cold and bright white outside, but cold and dark inside. I lay for some time with my head tilted so I could see the new view from the bed: out the window toward the back of the property, which was all dark tree trunks and white, white, white. As I watched, the wind would blow through, and clumps of snow would fall, revealing more dark branches beneath.

It was almost skeletal, almost naked seeming, the way the wind was undressing the trees. It made me feel ... something. Exposed. Aroused in a way that didn't really have to do with sex, but with creativity, that spark of energy that builds instead of destroys.

I brought Orion's hand gently to my lips and kissed each of his fingers before tucking it back under the blankets. I didn't have words for what had passed between us, for the odd sensation I had that something had changed, that part of me had shifted into some alignment I hadn't known I'd been missing.

Not to be all clichéd, and he wasn't the key to my lock, or my other half, but I'd always considered kissing a precursor and sex a destination. With him it was ... different. It was all just layers on layers, each aspect a whole unto itself, as if there was no end to what we could discover about each other. Or ourselves.

Clearly I was becoming a sap. But in Orion Broderick's bed, with a little dog curled up under the blanket between us, I didn't care. If this was being a sap, well, bring it on.

I didn't mean to fall asleep again, but I must have, because the next time I woke up, it was to the pleasant sight of a naked Orion pulling on socks.

"Good morning," I said, rolling to my side around Scraps, who snuffled into me.

"Morning." He pulled on the rest of his clothes before leaning over to kiss me thoroughly. "Can I interest you in the house breakfast?"

I batted my eyelashes. "Is it porridge? You know how I swoon for porridge."

"Indeed. Would you like yours with nuts, sir? I'd do the eyelash thing there to indicate that I was being naughty, but I'm actually not, and also you just did it, so I don't want to copy your move."

"So you're offering to not ejaculate into my breakfast? I'll take it!"

He wrinkled his nose. "Just for that, you're getting nuts in your oatmeal, which is good for you anyway."

"You're nuts," I shot back for lack of a better retort.

"Get up already." He scooped Scraps into his arms, ignored my outraged "Hey!" and disappeared out the door.

"Rude!" I called.

The view outside was even brighter, now that it was full day. I didn't actually know what time it was because my phone was ... somewhere. But before it had felt like day, but early , and now it felt like day, but much later .

I stretched out, wiggled my toes, reached in both directions with my arms. This was bliss. Sweet, considerate guy. No distractions. Kissing. Sex. Heavy quilts. Cuddly dog.

Wait.

No.

I sat upright.

Was I freaking mad? This was not bliss. This was some kind of bizarre twilight world of snow and tuna and someone else's cuddly dog. What the hell was I even thinking?

No distractions because this was not the real world at all, and the second I left, the second the bubble popped, I'd go back to all the things that had made me miserable before.

I, unlike Orion, could not hide out in the mountains forever, licking my wounds. Or, okay, give him his due, living what actually seemed to be a pretty nice life that he apparently enjoyed.

Which he'd only had to start because of what I'd done. To him. And which I still hadn't actually fixed.

Feeling flattened by, you know, reality , I pulled on my own clothes and went to track down my very temporary cabinmates, mentally deducting all points I'd earned, if any, and reverting to Cleary: nil. Because Reality always won in the end.

Scraps was just finishing up her food when I got there, so I took her out to do her thing. The wind had died down completely, and everything was eerily still. It hadn't snowed overnight, so everything was also crunchy with ice. The cleared spot where Scraps had been peeing and pooping was frozen, and I had to kind of stomp around before she would deign to squat long enough to pee.

Christ, what was I doing here? Taking a dog who wasn't mine out to pee in the snow while Orion Broderick—yes, that Orion Broderick—made breakfast. I could still taste him on my lips. This was absolutely bananas, and I might've been dreaming all of it. Was probably dreaming all of it.

Except then I went inside, and Orion kissed me.

"No fair you brushing your teeth," I complained, and I nipped into the bathroom to do the same, or at least to smear his toothpaste around on my teeth and tongue, swish it, and rinse.

What are you doing? I mouthed at my reflection.

I knew what I was doing. I was fucking the guy whose life I'd destroyed. How the hell had I gone from "Fix Orion Broderick's life" to "Kiss Orion Broderick in bed"? In fairness to me, he hadn't listened to my pitch for how to give him back soccer, even if it wasn't the same as before, so I couldn't really be blamed for it not working out.

Fuck it. While I was here, in this cabin, with him (and Scraps), I could just pretend nothing else outside mattered. If Orion could put off reality, so could I. Then, when inevitably the snow melted and I had to go back to my real life, I'd give him my contact info so he could send me the bill for the garage repair, which I would figure out how to pay for, and I'd hook him up with someone else to talk to about the campaign (if he wanted to), and that would be that. We'd never meet again. It was fine. I could know reality was coming and still enjoy kissing Orion Broderick.

And I really liked kissing him. Being kissed by him. Engaging in kissing with him.

Good game plan.

We ate breakfast and didn't talk much except to comment on how cute Scraps was, or how the wind had stopped, or the way the woodstove cranked out heat even better than the central heating.

Then, as I was rebrewing my tea bag in the pot I'd boiled for my first cup, which I'd left on the top of the wood-burning stove, he cocked his head to the side and looked out the window.

"More wind?" I asked, also looking out.

"No. I think." Another pause. "The plows are running. Do you hear?"

I couldn't at first, but then, far off in the distance, I could detect a mechanical sort of grinding, dragging sound. "That's what the plow sounds like?"

"Yep. They're plowing the highway at last." He blinked at me in the pale light from the window. "Aren't you happy?"

"Uhh." I swallowed. "Yeah. I mean yes, of course, sure. The plows are running. Yay." I did not sound "yay." "Wait, the plows can run even though the electricity isn't on?"

"It'll probably be easier for them to fix if the roads are clear."

"Oh."

We stood there, a fresh sense of awkwardness threatening. But he stepped in and I stepped in and we kissed.

"Back to bed?" I asked, feeling weirdly vulnerable.

"Good idea."

We left Scraps on her blanket next to the woodstove, and this time we closed the door.