Page 114 of Snowed In

“I…must be lost here. Either you’re suddenly showing me a nosey side of you I didn’t know existed or…did you not know that I’m gay?”

The words float over my shoulder so smoothly that they seem at odds with the foreignness of their context.Gay?

Ronny Carmichael?

“Wait a minute,” he adds, his body going stiff against mine when I feel his head move to look over my shoulder. “You’renotnosey. I don’t think you’ve ever asked me a single question about myself.” A breath leaves his lips, dusting against my cheek. He has his answer, and I suddenly feel like an utter fool.

“You…can’t be gay.” My weak rebuttal comes out in a disbelieving whisper, which has him making another sound of bewilderment. Well, join the club, Ronny. Join the damn club.

“Uh…why not? Am I overdue on my membership dues or something?”

How can he joke right now? I will not be laughed at over a completely plausible assumption.

Whipping my head around, I narrow my eyes at him. “I saw you kiss Miriam on the mouth on your first day of work!”

Brow wrinkling, his amusement doesn’t fade. “Miriam, whom I’ve known since high school? The same Miriam who was my date to every one of our school dances?ThatMiriam?”

What is that supposed to prove? “How in the hell am I supposedto know your teenage history? But, yeah,Miriam. The Miriam you also told youowed a baby!”

Eyes pinched shut, a grin splits his face. His chest rumbles against my back.

“Oh, my God,” he sighs, shaking his head. “She has four kids and is always complaining about how stressed out she is over motherhood. It was a joke. I was thanking her for putting in a word with Sal for me. The last thing she’d want is another kid, and we both know I certainly wouldn’t be the man for the job. She knows I’m gay. She always has. It’s why we’d go to the dances together every year. She never had a date, and neither did I.”

He…

What?

That cannot possibly be true. I mean…it can. Of course, it can, but…

I suddenly feel smaller, my face incredibly warm. Embarrassment is a good combatant against the cold.

Turning my head back toward the space heater, I blink, dumbly. I should try to reclaim some of my dignity, but all I can manage is, “Oh…”

“‘Oh?’” he challenges, but I don’t have the fortitude to respond. “You okay there, Curly?”

“Yeah. Fine. I just…wouldn’t have guessed.”

He keeps silent, which shouldn’t be more unsettling than when he speaks, but somehow is. Ronny is gay… Ronny-plastered-to-my-body-like-a-well-fitting-glove-Carmichael is… gay. It’s officially no longer cold in this cabin, which makes zero sense. Am I so starved for physical contact that my hormones have locked onto his pheromones like a heat-seeking missile because I know he doesn’t go around offering baby-making services? No way. It still doesn’t change his obnoxious humor, nor the way he always smirks at me like it’s his mission to get under my skin. I just… part of me assumed he did it because he knewIwas gay and he wasn’t. This shoots my mental profile of him out of the water, though.

“Well,” he says somberly. “There you have it.”

It feels like a loaded statement. I can practically hear his gears turning like he’s dying to question why I pegged his interests wrong. Instead, his body relaxes, and he rests his head back on his arm, saying nothing on the matter.

“Um…I’m sorry about the top/bottom joke. You just…well, you always make me a little nervous, to be honest. You’re so serious all the time, and my instinct is to lighten the mood whenever it feels too serious.”

I’mdiligent, I want to retort, but my mouth just hangs agape as I stare through the darkness at the cold wood floor.Hemakes mefeelandsoundlike I’m too serious—it’s one reason he’s always rubbed me the wrong way. His warmth sharing and the news of his sexuality, however, dissolve my tension in a way only an apology can provoke. It wasn’t exactly an apology. It felt like…vulnerability. Something I certainly never expected Ronny to be capable of, and most certainly not with me.

“It’s fine.” I shrug to show I’m capable of nonchalance. Stupid holidays. Stupid Trent. I’m not normallythisuptight. “I have a great sense of humor. You just…caught me off guard.”

“Well…do you want to switch? Are you uncomfortable?”

Fuck me. Has his voice seems sweet now. Vulnerable Ronny—gay,vulnerableRonny—awakens every dormant, emotionally needy fiber in my brain and body, making me want to turn around and loop my arms around him.

Geez. When was the last time another man held me?

“No,” I warn too sharply. “This…this is good. You were right. It’s warmer like this. Thanks.”

“No problem. Hopefully, the storm calms down soon and the plows can get out in the morning. We should sleep while the heater’s still running. If it goes out, we’ll need to move around to keep warm.”

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