Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
I open my mouth to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words die on my lips as I catch the way he’s looking at me—intense, like he’s trying to see right through me. It’s the same look that used to make my heart race, the same look that made me fall for him all those years ago. I hate that it still has that effect on me, that it still makes something twist deep in my chest.
For a moment, the air between us thickens, heavy with things we’re not saying. The crackle of the fire fills the silence, each pop of the wood like a reminder that we’re trapped here together, with nothing but the past between us. My pulse pounds in my ears, my body betraying me with a surge of heat that has nothing to do with the flames.
I shake my head, breaking eye contact, my voice coming out rougher than I intend. “This doesn’t change anything, Slate. Just because we’re stuck in a cabin together doesn’t mean we’re—” I falter, unsure how to finish the thought, and Slate’s smirk deepens, a dangerous edge to it.
“Doesn’t mean we’re what, Emma?” His voice is a low rumble, rough and teasing, and he steps closer still, until the heat of his breath brushes against my face. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me? Like you’re remembering exactly what it was like between us?”
My cheeks flush, anger and desire twisting inside me, but I refuse to back down. “Maybe I’m remembering how much easier things were when you weren’t around to complicate them.”
His eyes darken, his hand coming up to brush a strand of damp hair from my face. The touch is brief, almost gentle, but it leaves a trail of heat across my skin that I can’t ignore. “Yeah, well, I’m here now. And I don’t think either of us can pretend we don’t feel this.”
My breath catches, my heart thudding against my ribs, but I force myself to hold his gaze. “Feel what, Slate? That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just the storm. The cold.”
He huffs a low laugh, the sound rough and disbelieving, and his hand lingers near my cheek, his fingers brushing the edge of the blanket. “Keep telling yourself that, Emma. But I think you know it’s a lot more than that.”
We stand there, inches apart, the firelight flickering across our faces, each of us caught between the urge to step back and the undeniable pull drawing us closer. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears, feel the way my body leans toward him despite myself, but I grit my teeth and hold my ground, refusing to be the one who breaks first.
Slate finally steps back, but the slow, knowing smile that curves his lips makes it clear he’s not retreating. He’s just giving me space to come to him. “Better get comfortable, Emma. We’re going to be here for a while.”
The tension snaps, but it doesn’t dissipate. It just shifts, settling into the charged air between us. I drop down onto the edge of the low bed against the far wall, dragging the blanket tighter around my shoulders, pretending I don’t notice the way Slate’s eyes track the movement.
He settles on the floor in front of the fire, leaning back against the stone hearth, his ocean blue eyes never leaving mine. The flickering light casts shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the intensity in his gaze. It’s infuriating, the way he sits there, so confident, so sure of himself, like he knows exactly how to get under my skin.
“So, what’s your plan, Slate?” I ask, my tone sharper than I mean it to be. “Wait out the storm, then play knight in shining armor and escort me back down the mountain?”
His lips curl into a smirk, and he arches an eyebrow. “That’s one way to put it. Or maybe I’m just keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t run off and do something reckless again.”
I glare at him, but he just keeps looking at me with that infuriatingly calm expression, like he’s got all the time in the world to wait me out. The cabin feels too small, too warm, like the walls are closing in, pushing us closer together even when I want to put as much distance between us as possible.
“You’re such a pain in the ass,” I mutter, shifting on the bed, trying to get comfortable, trying to ignore the way my body is all too aware of his.
His smirk widens, a flash of something dark and teasing in his eyes. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.”
The words hang between us, loaded with a challenge that makes my pulse quicken, my skin prickling with a mixture of irritation and something I don’t want to name. He’s too close, too smug, and every part of me itches to wipe that look off his face.