Page 72 of Snowed In

He was okay.

No blood.

No broken bones that I could see.

“Shit, Shi, are you okay, are you hurt?” I attempted to move across the console to double check my assessment forgetting about my seat belt entirely. It dug into my shoulder with an uncomfortable pinch, and I winced.

“I’m fine, butyou?—”

“I’m okay, just a little sore.”

“Your eyebrow, Gary… it’s bleeding.” He opened the glove box and pulled out a wad of napkins, shoving them into my hand. “Are you dizzy? Nauseous? How many fingers am I holding up.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from my chest. Shi was disheveled, his hair falling from his usual half-assed, thrown-together bun, his eyes wide and filled with something akin to terror, and yet still soft. He held up three fingers, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. Fuck, he was cute. He was always so damn cute and… Nope. Nope. Nope. I must have hit my head harder than I thought because I’d told myself I couldn’t, wouldn’t go there.

“Two fingers,” I lied, and his eyes got even wider. I tried not to laugh again but failed. “Holy shit, Shi… I’m kidding.” I held up the napkins to my right eyebrow. The scratchy paper smelled a little like greasy fries and Shi’s woodsy scent. My smile stretched even farther across my lips. “I’m fine. I promise. Just bumped my head on the steering wheel I think.”

He reached over and pulled my hand away from my face, his gaze narrowing as he chewed his bottom lip. I held my breath as he leaned in, his thumb grazing along the line of my brow. The touch stung a little, but I refused to move. He was so close. Too close.

“It’s not bad,” he said. “I don’t even think you’ll need stitches or anything.”

“Will it leave a scar?” I whispered, unwilling to breathe too deeply. Too afraid of his scent and the heat of his breath.

“I don’t think so.”

He leaned back and I finally allowed myself to exhale. “Damn… Scars are sexy.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Leave it to you to make jokes while we teeter on the brink of death in the wilderness.”

“Your ability to call upon the magic of drama ceases to amaze me.” I stared at the speckles of blood on the napkin, then through the windshield. We had driven off the road and down an embankment, and nearly missed a tree. Maybe Shi’s flare for the dramatics wasactually on point this time. I looked at him again, scanning his features one more time. “You swear you’re okay?”

“I’m good. Physically, that is. Emotionally…” His laugh was quiet as his voice cracked. He rubbed at his chest. “Fucking deer. I thought we were going to die.”

Shiloh blinked, a rogue tear spilling down his cheek. I wanted to reach out and wipe it away. Wanted to hug him and tell him I was here, and I would never let anything happen to him. But I sat still, my fingertips aching to touch him. I let that thought percolate, build as I watched him pull himself together. He huffed out another laugh, like his tears were somehow ridiculous as he wiped at his cheeks.

“Stop staring at me,” he said with a smile. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He didn’t, though.

He had no idea how much I cared about him. How over the last two years I’d fallen for my best friend and figured out that blank space I’d had in my life for so long. He had no idea how he’d helped me discover things about myself that thrilled and frightened me. He was clueless to the fact how every moment I’d spent with him made it harder for me to deny my feelings. I was in love with him. A man. And it made more sense than it should have. All the little tells of my life. The guys I admired when I was younger. The celebrity crushes my brothers would tease me about. I tried so hard to shove that part of myself away. But Shi. Without knowing it, he allowed me to be me, allowed me a safe place to understand myself even if I wasn’t ready to face what it all meant.

“Oh? What am I thinking?”

“You think I’m a headcase,” he said. “Always over the top.”

“Headcase? No. Over the top…”

He shoved me and we both laughed. “Jesus, what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

“We could make out until help arrives,” I teased, and he flipped me off.

“Ha-ha.”

“I’m serious, what if we die, what if we are the last people alive in this arctic dystopia and we have to make butt babies so the human race survives.”

“Butt babies?” He bit back a grin.

“Yeah… it’s in those wolf books you read.”

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