Page 45 of Warmer, Colder

Stasi shrugs, then starts to undo the clasps on the front of her top.

“What the hell are you doing?” It comes out as a shout that’s embarrassingly shrill.

“You can’t seriously expect me to sleep in this? Ialwayssleep naked. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t already seen it all.”

“It’s not like we actually need sleep now. Can’t you just be uncomfortable for one night?” I plead with her.

“Whether I need the sleep or not, I don’t want to spend the whole night tossing and turning. Being dead is already boring enough. I don’t need eight more miserable hours in my day.” Stasi unclasps the first hook. “Sorry to inconvenience you, but not all of us had the forethought to wear something comfortable before we died. One of us didn’tchooseto die.”

The air pulls taut like a noose between us at the mention of my suicide. “Do whatever you want.” The reminder of my death makes her being naked a non-issue because all I can think about is the sight of my unconscious body and my family falling apart around it.

“Fuck,” Stasi sighs under her breath as she slides under the covers quickly. “I’m sorry. That was too far. I know it’s still a sore subject for you.”

“Uh, yeah. I literally just fucking died. Of course it’s still a sore subject. Whatever you think you know about my death, you’re wrong,” I hiss in disbelief. I attempt to settle my irritation by closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths. I don’t want to accept her apology but I’m not in the mood to argue. I just want this day to be over. “I’ll find you something more comfortable to wear tomorrow,” I offer.

“Don’t bother. You won’t have my size,” she mumbles and somehow that makes me feel even worse for being so oblivious.

Is this how my eternity will be? Stilted conversations and arguments, forever at odds with the only person who can see or hear me.This fucking sucks.I just want to escape it all, I want the peace I thought I was rushing toward. In an attempt to slow my thoughts, I begin counting sheep. After the third round of one hundred, that fuzzy lucidity of dreaming begins to settle in. As I drift and ease into the embrace of sleep, I can distantly hear the familiar melody ofOnce Upon a December. My surprise quickly melts away as I lose consciousness.

Unfortunately, that serenity is fleeting, my dreams veering into completely different territory, specifically, to Stasi kneeling between my legs. Shocked by what I’ve conjured up, I awake abruptly to my hips rocking creating an intense pulsing between my legs.

A snicker sounds from beside me, and I nearly jump out of my body. My eyes meet Stasi’s, which are much too close to my own for comfort. But when I go to lean away, I shift again accidentally grinding down on something between my legs. Instead of finding a pillow, skin meets skin. Horror clutches me as I realize it’s Stasi’s thigh.

“I can explain. This isn’t what it looks like.” A reasonable explanation evades me as I attempt to pull away, but her hand clutches my ass.

I shoot her a glare, but the cocky grin spreads wider across her face. “Oh?” she says expectantly.

“Don’t look at me like that. Sex dreams are completely normal.” With a heave, she shifts me up and down her leg.

“Shh. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not. But you have the wrong idea.” I push her hand off my ass. “It wasn’t about you.”

Her raspy laugh only adds to the pleasure I’m fighting between my thighs. “Aww, don’t be mad at me because you weren’t able to sleep beside me for one night without touching me. There’s no need to lie.” She lifts my leg, spreading me open. “Look at that. There’s no denying that your pussy is wet for me.” Stasi shrugs smugly. “I tend to have that effect on women.”

Insecurity bubbles within me at the accuracy of her words. The last thread of my pride hinges on me not looking down at my soaked shorts. I fail when she strokes a lone finger down the seam, applying just enough pressure to make my hips lift. The reaction is instinctual like my body desperately wants to obey her. Instead, I sit up and slam my legs shut, guarding myself against any further provocation.

My tired body’s reaction doesn’t mean anything. It’s still trying to purge the mental image of her touching herself; this is just a residual side effect. It did something to my brain chemistry. Itmademe want her.

No.No. No. Not want her.I wanted that elusive freeing feeling she embodies. It’s been so long since I felt anything remotely close to pleasure.Not since you had her fingers rubbing you.My disloyal subconscious supplies.

I shake the disconcerting thoughts away only to find Stasi watching me closely. Too closely. Huntress eyes too keen. “You don’t have an effect on me.” I use air quotes around the last five words. “You’llneverhave that effect on me.”

“Is that a challenge?” She has the audacity to perk up.

“No,” I hiss as I untangle my feet from the blankets and get out of the bed. Her spicy floral perfume is clouding my judgment as I try to find my words. “No, it is not a challenge.” I pull my flannel tightly around me. “The only reason anything ever happened between us was because I was drunk, okay. And asleep.” I tack on. “I’m not like you.”

Her jaw ticks and that flame of lust in her eyes takes on an icy chill. “Not like me?” She crawls across the bed toward me and instead of retreating, my traitorous eyes rove over her naked body. “Liar.” Her breath across my cheeks is a jarring return to reality, immediately bringing my attention back to her face.

“Fuck you.” The words arch from my lips and land a deep cut.

Stasi eases off the bed so she’s standing in front of me; looking down her nose at me despite the fact that she’s completely exposed. “Not even if you begged.” Each syllable is weighted with promise.

Instead of the acidic disgust I expect to invade my throat at the insinuation, rejection punches me in the gut, and something like desperation tugs at my core. It’s disorienting, the start of a carnival ride when you’re not ready.I hate her fucking games. “Not even if you were the last person on Earth . . . oh wait.” I retort, but the smart comment is weak, just like the threads of my sanity around this woman.

“Get. Out,” Stasi bites out, her eyes focused above my head.

Without another word, I gather what’s left of my pride and race toward the door, only slowing momentarily to check that no one is in the backyard.

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