I had been outside a little while and had been getting cold. The snow wasn't falling anymore, and I had a couple layers on under my sweater but not enough. I walked back into the warmth of the cabin and saw Cameron kneeling in front of the fireplace, feeding two big logs into it.
"That took a while," he commented.
"Yeah," I said, almost apologizing.
"Can I ask who it was?"
"It was Brett." He was facing away from me, so I didn't see his reaction to the news if he had had one.
"Did he ask about me?"
"Yes."
"What did he want?"
"He wanted to know how you were. He heard about the storm and was worried about you." He made a noncommittal sound, and dusting his hands off, he stood back up. God, you should have just told him it was Kasey wanting to talk about eyeshadow or something, I thought. Great. Yeah, add some lies into the mix, like it isn't already bad enough what you're doing to the guy.
"Maybe I should have brought that phone with me," he said, almost to himself. "Is he sending a rescue chopper?"
"No. He just wanted to know you were okay."
"Was that all he wanted to know?" he asked.
"He asked me to take care of you. I think he thinks you're half-starved up here. He supports you, but he knows how rough winters at this elevation can be." He made another noncommittal sound. Shit, he knows, I thought.
"The old man wants me to go back. He probably has money down on how long I'd be up here."
"Is there any more of that hot chocolate left?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
"Yeah. Your cup got a little cold while you were out. I can heat it back up for you if you want." I said I did, anything to get us away from Brett and the company. I'd tell him—but not yet. I wouldn't have a choice at some point, but just then, I did. I was looking at at least a couple more days before I could leave. I didn't want to spend them badgering him about the company. I wanted us to talk. I liked talking to him. I was beginning to like him, the person he was behind the image, the famous family and the massive fortune. He was just a guy under that all, one who was more interesting than I had ever given him credit for. When would I ever have him in this position again? Once the snow cleared, it would be over. I'd do it. I would, just not yet.
Chapter Nineteen
Cameron
The couch wasn't that bad. It wasn't great, but it wasn't that bad. It wasn't lumpy, at least there was that. It was almost long enough to take my height, and I was close to the fire. Close to the fire, yeah, which meant far away from her. It was morning. I didn’t know how early, but I had just woken up. The sound of Natalie coming down from the loft was what had gotten me up. She was in the shower. Two nights down. I was getting the hang of this.
Nothing had happened between us. We had spent the last couple days together and the last couple nights very far apart. The snow was still making the roads up here impassable, so I had a few more days and nights like that to look forward to. We cooked, talked, hung out—wholesome activities only. No inappropriate touching, or looking, none of that, but plenty of dirty thoughts.
For fuck’s sake, she was right there, all the time. She was gorgeous; I wished I was better than the things I thought about doing to her, but I wasn’t. It was insane, how much I wanted to peel all her layers off and fuck her. Did she feel the same? If she did, then I could stop feeling guilty about what went through my head when I
remembered she was naked in the bathroom right then. Does she feel anything at all? I wondered, folding my blankets and clearing the couch so we'd be able to sit when we had breakfast.
If she did, I wasn't saying anything would happen; I was just curious. If she did, then you'd have no problem, I thought. No worries that she didn't feel the same, and it would make things awkward. That was one way to look at it, but what were we looking at here realistically if something did happen? A couple days fucking on every surface and against every wall in the cabin, maybe, but that was it. She’d leave eventually. Whatever happened, if anything, wouldn’t lead to a relationship. With me up here and her down in Provo? People made long distance relationships across continents work, but I didn't want that.
Long distance was only worth it if you knew you were going to be together again. I wouldn't want that unless there was a good reason we had to be apart. What counted as a good reason? Nothing was going to happen. We weren't actually going to do anything, so it didn't matter that I was thinking about it. A good reason... shit, besides work I couldn't think of any. Unless deployment was on the table, but neither of us served. So then what? Would I move because I wanted to be with her? Would she move so she could be with me, hypothetically?
The bathroom door unlocked and opened up a crack.
"Cameron?"
"What?" I asked, looking over at the bathroom door. Her head poked out of it, and steam from the heat of her shower wafted out.
"I forgot to bring a towel down; could you hand me one please?" she asked. So much for trying not to imagine her naked. I went up to the loft where the closet was and pulled one out, bringing it back down with me. "Thanks," she said, reaching for it. She was behind the door but had to pull it open more to take the towel. The mirror in the bathroom behind her was foggy, but not foggy enough that I couldn't make out her back, ass, and legs in it.
"You're welcome,” I said quickly, walking away. Boundaries. Limits. I was past trying to stop thinking about her, but crossing the line into being a creep was out of the question. We had to trust each other for this to work. She had to trust me not to do shit like that, but fuck, I didn't even trust myself not to try to get another glimpse of her naked after that.
All that hypothetical shit was dangerous. I knew what I wanted, and it couldn't happen. It wouldn't be fair to her. Okay, but what about what she wanted? You haven't even asked her, so how do you know? Maybe she isn't looking for anything more than a couple nights of fun, and you're overreacting instead of giving them to her.