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Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Gabe

I ’d thought I’d heard something, but when I stopped to listen, everything was silent. The only sounds were those of dinner cooking and the fires burning.

To say my heart jumped into my throat at a voice in the other room is like someone saying it’s snowing right now. No shit, fuckhead. I don’t know who he is, though he’s somehow vaguely familiar after I’ve looked at him for a minute. He looks just as shocked to see me as I am to see him.

“Who are you?” I ask. “How did you get into my cabin?”

The man deflates. He looks like he aged ten years in front of me. His shoulders fall and I almost feel bad.

Or I might feel bad except there’s a fucking stranger in the cabin I rented! He could have murdery weapons in his suitcase and a dastardly intent!

I may have watched one too many scary movies on the way here.

“Edries,” he says. Even his voice sounds tired. “Somehow, I think we both rented this cabin.”

“Noooo…” I say, immediately wondering if the guy who asked me if my partner was coming thought this man was my partner. Maybe I sh ould have told him the truth. Is this my punishment for lying? “That’s not possible.”

He shrugs as if to say, well here I am, possible or not.

I wipe a hand over my face and cross the room to the phone. As with most places, ‘0’ leads me to reception. A woman answers within two rings.

“Look, there’s been a mistake. A stranger is here saying that you rented this cabin to him, too.”

There’s a moment where I hear click clack clack click . Her voice gets quiet as she calls someone to look. Yep, there’s been a mistake. I feel a little better about that.

Another voice comes over the phone. “I’m sorry, Mr. Zanderman, you have our deepest apologies. There has certainly been a mistake and your cabin was assigned twice.”

“Fine. You’re coming to get this man?”

At the hesitation before she responds, I tense. I’m not going to like this answer.

“Unfortunately, we’re unable to. Not only has our system overbooked, but we’re sold out. Not least of all, the storm is too treacherous right now to send someone to get him. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Zanderman.”

“There’s only one bed!” I complain.

“We’re really very sorry.”

“Everyone’s sorry,” I mutter. “Fine.” Rudely, I hang up and lean back against the wall. I want to scream. I’d love to have a soccer ball to kick around as hard as I can right now.

Instead, I turn to look at Edries. He’s still vaguely familiar. Like I should know him. “Overbooked and the storm is too much right now,” I report.

He nods, not looking surprised or bothered.

“You don’t expect to share a room, do you?”

“You can take the couch,” he says.

“No. I paid for this cabin!” I say indignantly.

“I did, too,” he answers, shrugging .

God, I want to scream!

Instead, I turn and stomp like a child back to the kitchen. I’d had the foresight to turn the stove off when I walked away, so there wouldn’t be a fire that wasn’t supposed to be there. Frustrated tears sting my eyes as I turn the burner back on. This is not what I planned. This is not what I wanted. What the fuck am I supposed to do?!

I hear Edries moving around. He walks by the kitchen toward the bedroom, and I want to scream at him to stay out of the bedroom. How can these people think it’s okay to tell me ‘too bad, suck it up’ when they’ve literally dumped a stranger into my cabin? That’s not fucking safe. He’s going to murder me!! That’s how these stories go.

After a few minutes, I feel his presence behind me. Lingering in the door of the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, I ask, “Are you hungry? All the meal kits I ordered were for two, so there’s plenty.”

“Yes,” he says. “Thank you.”

I nod without looking at him.

“Do you need help?”

I need a lot of things. None of which I think he can help me with, since the most important of them is for him to leave. So I shake my head.

There isn’t a dining room in this small space. Just a little two-seater table in the corner of the kitchen next to the double doors which lead to the patio out back. It was too dark when I arrived to see the view it offers, but I bet it’s beautiful.

Edries is silent and motionless as he waits. It’s unsettling. I keep imagining him with a butcher knife in his hand, ready to chase me through the house before killing me.

Yep, too many scary movies!

I was almost through making dinner when I heard him in the living room, so it doesn’t take much longer to finish, and the meals are plated. They look gourmet if I do say so myself. Win for meal kits! I bring the plates to the table before heading for the fridge.

“I have water and wine. The champagne is for New Year’s Eve. There’s juice and milk, though I mostly got that for breakfast and cooking.”

“Water, please,” Edries says.

I grab two glasses and use the nozzle inside the door for cold water. Then I return to the table, setting them down. He’s standing behind his chair, hands behind his back as he waits for me. It feels weirdly formal, and Edries doesn’t make a move to sit until I do.

As I pick up my fork, I watch as he drapes his paper napkin in his lap. Very formal. Though I try not to watch him while we eat in somewhat awkward silence, we steal glances at each other. I’m not sure what it is about the way he takes a bite of his broccoli when I finally recognize him.

“Edries Franklin!” I say, as if I just won a prize for identifying him.

He gives me an amused half smile. “Yes.”

“Honestly, your first name alone should have triggered that memory. It’s not a common name,” I say, still slightly proud of myself for finally figuring it out.

“Indeed,” he muses.

We eat quietly before he asks, “Are you going to tell me your name?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Gabe Zanderman.”

He nods. When he finishes chewing, he says, “Soccer player, or is that a coincidence?”

I grin. “Yes, soccer. I’m surprised you didn’t say ‘gay soccer player.’ It’s like an official job title.” I roll my eyes. It used to bother me, but now I just smile proudly. Yes, I’m gay. And yes, I’m a pro soccer player. Eat me, asshole haters.

Edries’s eyebrows knit together. “That’s… kind of inappropriate, no?”

I snort. “Yes. Very. Still, no one seems to care.”

“I suppose it’s the same as people referring to me as ‘Edries Franklin, eccentric billionaire,’” he muses.

“I was pretty sure you had that trademarked by this point,” I say .

He grins and… I don’t hate it.

“I decided something a long time ago. I’m going to be remembered and while the first thing that people might think about when they hear my name is that I wore a flamingo print suit as a teenager—once—and they’ve never let me live that down, there’s also going to be a legacy left behind. Organizations, franchises, investments. I’ll have done good. And all these people who scoff and snicker because I’m ‘eccentric’ will anonymously disappear into history as if they didn’t exist.”

My fork paused on its way to my mouth about halfway through his explanation. I’m left staring at him, reconsidering this man entirely. A smile forms on my mouth as I finally bring my bite home. I like this guy. That’s kind of a fuck you to the world without actually saying it out loud.

“I get that. I’ve thought something like that too, but maybe not consciously,” I say and take a sip of my water. “All the haters out there bitching because I’m gay and playing soccer are usually washed up or wannabes. Those who couldn’t cut it in the league or weren’t good enough to make it pro. But here I am, living their dream and my sexuality just gives them something to hate.”

Edries smiles. “Exactly! The loudest haters are only shouting their jealousy. You’re leaving a legacy behind, but one that’s even bigger than just your game.”

“Yeah? If you say I’m hot, I’m going to forgive that you barged into my cabin.”

He laughs. “No, I was going to say that you’re helping to pave the way for younger gay kids who want to play but don’t think they’re allowed to. I might have enormous bank accounts and my name plastered all over different organizations, but you’re going to be remembered and revered for ages as a proud gay man who didn’t hide his sexuality just so he could live his dream. Your place in history is going to shine much brighter than mine, as it should.”

Okay, if he keeps complimenting me, I’m going to have a hard time resenting the fact that he’s here .

“Also, I paid for this room. You just got to it first,” he says casually, bringing a bite to his mouth. The playful smile on his lips makes something inside me flutter.

“I think my credit card says otherwise,” I retort.

“We can compare transactions when we’re back in reception. I’ve been told that the Wi-Fi isn’t going to work during the storm. For now, you’re just going to have to accept that you’re the interloper.”

“Ha! Not to sound like a six-year-old, but I was here first.”

Now Edries is smiling. And hell, so am I.

We finish eating in a much less awkward silence, and he tells me that since I cooked, he’ll clean up. I don’t hate this idea, so I leave him in the kitchen and head for the living room, where I pop in a movie and make myself comfortable in the oversized chair.

Edries joins me as the opening credits start to roll, dropping onto the couch.

“I’d like to point out that everything I ordered specifically is here. Therefore, I think you’re the one who’s the interloper.” I gesture to the wrapped items in the corner.

“Ah,” he says. “But the gifts under the tree are what I ordered.”

I glance back and frown. “Are you sure? Because I ordered some too.” Though, admittedly, I didn’t order that many. Now that I think about it, the pantry is overstocked. What I thought might be storm prep might actually just be two separate orders.

“Hm,” Edries says. “Well, we’re going to have to wait until Christmas to find out. No peeking.”

A chuckle makes me shake my head. “Sure, Edries.”

We stay up through two movies and then I’m beat. I can’t keep my eyes open, so I finally head for the bedroom. Maybe I was subconsciously avoiding this moment. It’s one thing to get along with the guy and admit that his company isn’t horrible. But sharing a bed? He’s still a virtual stranger.

And there’s no doubt that we’ll be sharing a bed. I think we’re both convinced that this is our cabin. Even with as comfortable as the couch looks, I’m not sleeping on the couch for ten days. I know what I paid to be here.

I move through the bathroom quickly and then crawl into bed first. The lights are already off, so it’s the fire that throws a warm glow around the room. Edries comes in a moment later. I watch with my blankets up to my chin as he adds more logs to the fire before proceeding to the bathroom.

Minutes tick by before he steps back into the bedroom, now in only shorts. He’s… different from what I thought he’d be without clothes. Not that I’ve given it much thought. I haven’t.

His thighs are thick, like he’s played a sport that requires a lot of leg muscle for years. Football or… soccer or hockey, maybe. His waist isn’t as trim as his slacks make him look. He’s thick, not fat, but thick. His upper body is defined but, again, thick. Broad shoulders, thick arms.

He climbs into bed, and I roll onto my side so he has my back.

“I added more wood to the fire in the living room so it doesn’t go out in the night,” he says.

Well, thank fuck for that. It hadn’t even crossed my mind.

“Thanks,” I say. “I didn’t realize I paid for that service.”

He snorts. “Good night, Gabe.”

“Good night,” I murmur. I don’t hate his presence in the bed, either. Though I can already tell that his body heat is going to be distracting me from sleep for a while. As is the tantalizing dip of the bed.

Ugh.

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