Page 43 of Lost in You

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Trinity

My head is made of concrete. I let it fall back onto the pillow immediately, groaning from the pounding sensation.

I had a lot of whiskey last night. Though I’m hurting right now, I also feel lighter. Linc and I laughed more than we have in our entire time here. We shared a lot. We both leaned into a free fall, not worrying about how hard we might hit at the end.

We both chose all truths in our game, learning each other’s secrets and laughing about our embarrassments. I thought I might pee my pants from laughing when he told me his story of getting an erection in front of his entire class in seventh grade because he was hot for his teacher. And now he knows I mispronounced Lena Horne’s last name in a speech in front of my entire middle school, humiliating myself.

Though I don’t want to move, I need water. When I sit up and look around the cabin, I don’t see Linc anywhere. My heart flutters with worry as I slide out of bed.

The bottle of whiskey is still on the kitchen table, about a quarter of it left. There’s a note next to it.

Outside exercising. Be back soon.

L

I smile at the message, which feels almost intimate. After last night, I have a better understanding of Linc. There are still so many questions I want to ask him, but I’m not sure my body can handle more Truth or Dare Boggle just yet.

I drink a glass of water, refill it and drink half of the second glass. Today needs to be about rest and hydration for me.

My ankle is much better and letting loose last night helped my anxiety. If it wasn’t winter, Lincoln and I would probably pack up supplies and start hiking, but we can’t risk hitting a snowstorm.

I wonder if my office has been cleaned out. Has someone been hired to replace me at work? When I do eventually make it back home, will I still have a job?

Even with a hangover, questions still fly through my mind at a rapid-fire pace. I want to go back home—very much. But I don’t hate it here. Not at all. There are no alarm clocks or schedules. I’ve never spent so much time just being, reading books and listening to music.

Life can’t be like this all the time, but the break from sixty-hour workweeks has been nice.

I start making the oatmeal we eat for breakfast every day, fantasizing about having a plate of hot, crispy bacon to go with it. And oh my god, fresh-squeezed orange juice. Just thinking about the sweet juice and the salty bacon makes my mouth water.

It’ll be nice to get back to the land of grocery stores and restaurants, but for now, I’m grateful for what we do have. This cabin and its food store saved our lives.

Lincoln opens the front door, a gust of icy air sending snowflakes in with him.

“Hey, morning.” He takes off his coat and hangs it up.

“Morning.”

Why does it feel like we slept together last night? I focus on my oatmeal prep, knowing I’m going to blush the first time our eyes meet. Our kiss and all the secrets we shared left me with a floaty, dreamy feeling that only gets stronger now that he’s back in the cabin with me.

“Want some oatmeal?” I ask lightly.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“How much snow did we get?”

“Uh...a foot, maybe?” He groans with satisfaction after pulling off a snow boot. “I made snowshoes. That’s a fucking workout, walking through thirty inches of snow in those things.”

“Well, you’re a man, so it’s probably more like eighteen inches.”

“You’ve got the jokes!” I smile as his deep voice gets closer to me. “Will you be here all week?”

I shrug. “Depends how good the audience is.”

I feel him standing behind me and I’m about to turn around and get the uncomfortable eye-contact blush out of the way when he wraps his arms around me from behind.

My lips part. It feels amazing, having his big, carved body against my back. I set down the oatmeal spoon and lean back against him. His arms are banded around me beneath my breasts and the cold seeps from him to me, but it doesn’t bother me at all.