Page 92 of Snowed In

Even in the dim light, I could see the blush extending all the way to the tops of his ears.

Not wanting to embarrass him, I gestured at the bed. “Do you have a particular side?”

“Um, no,” he said, almost shyly, walking around the bed to get in the other side. “I’m not used to sharing, so I kind of tend to sprawl.”

“Well, I’m a cuddler.” I slid into the bed beside him, my muscles practically weeping in joy at the soft mattress. “So sorry if you wake up with me wrapped around you.”

Rory gave an almost inaudible groan. My blood rushed south as I imagined him making that noise in a different context.

“That’s fine by me. You’ve designated yourself as my taxi driver for the foreseeable future; if you want to take payment in cuddles then go for it.” He winced. “Forget I said that. I’m not weird, I promise.”

I reached over to brush the hair out of his eyes. “I don’t think you’re weird, Rory. Cute, yes. Adorable, absolutely. But weird? That’s not a word that comes to mind when I think about you.”

“You…you think about me?”

I swallowed hard. With snow muffling the already silent night, it was like we were the only two people in the world. It made me reckless. “More than I probably should.”

“I’m so confused,” Rory whispered.

Before I could ask him what he was confused about, he twisted suddenly onto his side, facing away from me. “Night, Owen.”

I stared at his back for a few minutes, wondering what had just happened. “Night, Rory.”

Thirty long minutes passed with neither of us getting a wink of sleep. Rory was shivering so hard the bed was shaking.

As for me? I was torn between replaying our earlier encounter to figure out what I’d done wrong and fighting to not pull Rory into my arms.

Now though, I couldn’t stand it for another second longer. Reaching across the bed, I snaked one arm around Rory and rolled him towards me. He faced me with a startled yelp that was quickly muffled by his face being buried against my chest.

I wrapped both my arms around him, making sure he was fully covered by the duvet. “Don’t freak out, it’s just for warmth. If we don’t get warmer, neither of us are going to get any sleep.”

Rory huffed, lifting his head so he could speak. “I’m not going to freak out, Owen. In case it’s escaped your notice, I’m gay. Being cuddled up to a burly, attractive man is how I fantasise about going to sleep most nights. It’s you I’m worried about.”

The hope I’d been feeling was overtaken by confusion. “Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re straight,” he said, as though it was obvious. Suddenly the whole reason behind our misunderstandings became clear. “Straight men don’t generally feel comfortable cuddling up to gay men.”

“Okay, first, talk about toxic masculinity. I’m sure a lot of straightmen would have an issue with that.” I pulled back so I could see Rory’s face clearly. “Not that I’d know, because I’m not straight.”

Rory’s lips parted in shock. “What?”

“I’m not straight.” I pulled Rory closer, letting my hard bulge brush against his. “And just so we’re on the same page, I too have fantasies. Mine just involve an adorable barista.”

ChapterSeven

Rory

“You’re really not straight?”

“Nope.” Owen squeezed my arse, pressing his erection firmly against mine. “I’m bisexual, Rory, andveryinterested in you.”

“Oh my god,” I groaned, letting my head fall against his. “I’m such a fucking idiot. Do you know how much time we’ve wasted?”

“Well, in my defence, I did ask you out on a date once, and you turned me down.”

Oh no.“You were being serious?”

“Yes.” Even in the darkness, I could see his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Took a bit of an ego hit that day.”

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