Page 41 of Bad Boy
Caught.
I blush and stare out of the front window instead of at him.
Remi’s phone tells us to turn right in half a mile, and he slows down so we don’t miss it. These street signs are hard to see, hidden in the thick tree branches that overhang the winding dirt road. It’s so narrow it’s barely even two lanes.
“We’re almost there!” Remi says excitedly before making our last turn. I smile at him. His playful enthusiasm is so charming. It’s infectious.
As we round a copse of trees, our weekend lodging finally comes into view, and I sit up a little straighter in my seat.
Half-hanging off the mountain and built on stilts, it’s cozy, quaint, and adorable. The tiny log cabin has a wrap-around porch with a small hot tub already bubbling, thick steam radiating from the surface.
A twisted, natural wood arch welcomes us with a hand-painted sign reading,The Buffalo Bungalow. I look to my right and squint. The next cabin isn’t too far away, and I can see it’s namedHummingbird Hill. Hopefully, Connor isn’t in that one. It would be my luck. I can see more small cabins further down the road, nestled in the beautiful fall foliage surrounding us. Daylight is waning, casting everything in a golden glow and elongating the shadows.
Remi pulls the SUV into the gravel driveway, the tiny stones crunching underneath the tires. He parks, and we immediately hop out, needing to stretch after sitting for so long. I arch my back and reach my hands above my head before bending over to touch my toes.
When I stand back up and look around for Remi, I spot him at the back of the SUV, watching me while he chews on his bottom lip. And then I realize I just bent over right in front of him. I blush at how his eyes devour me, excited nerves fluttering low in my belly at the thought of trying morethingstogether.Soon.
It’s been a few days since the incident on the side of the road. The gash tucked under my chin has scabbed over and is barely noticeable, and the tiny cuts and scrapes on my torso are also nearly healed. All in all, I’m feeling good and ready for whatever Remi has in store for us. Because I definitely don’t think I could make the first move. At least not yet.
“Ready to go in?” I ask in an embarrassed rush. I have no idea why I’m still so shy around him when he literally jerked me off a few days ago and asked to be friends with benefits.
“After you, Preppy.” He holds his hand out, indicating that I go first. I grab my backpack from the backseat and sling it over my shoulder while Remi carries our suitcases.
I bounce over to the wooden arch and trail my hand over the smooth, intricately woven branches. “This is so cool,” I whisper in awe, pushing my glasses up my nose and inspecting the craftsmanship. Definitely hand-made. I’ve never stayed in such a small, rustic cabin before. My parents would never lower themselves to anything that doesn’t come with five-star service.
Remi’s deep chuckle hits me low in my gut, and my abs tighten. I glance at him over my shoulder with a soft smile. And—who am I kidding—probably pink cheeks. His dark eyes dance in the growing twilight.
Continuing to the front door, I use the key Dr. Benson passed out in class today and push the door open. I’m greeted by a cozy living room with plush, mismatched couches accented with quilted throw pillows. An old wood-burning stove is tucked into the far corner with a basket of small logs next to it. The oversized windows show off the spectacular mountain view and the ravine below, giving the small space an open feeling. I absolutely love it. Even the creepy chandelier made from antlers.
There’s a modest kitchen equipped with the essentials and a hallway leading to what I’m assuming are the bedrooms. I flip the light on and wander down, only finding a storage closet and a small bathroom.
“There aren’t any bedrooms down here, just a bathroom!” I shout toward the kitchen.
“They must be upstairs!” he yells back.
I do my business while I’m here and head toward the stairs. As I pass Remi in the kitchen, I see him loading two very large bottles of alcohol into the fridge along with the other drinks we bought. We saved the sandwiches that Remi’s mom made, deciding to keep them for dinner. There won’t be any meals provided until tomorrow when Dr. Benson and the rest of the class arrive.
I pass through the small living room and climb the ladder-like steps until I’m standing in an open loft that acts as the only bedroom for this cabin. There’s another issue, too.
“Um, Remi?” I holler. “There’s a problem!”
I hear the thudding of feet up the stairs before he appears next to me.
“Huh,” is all he manages to say, or more accurately, grunt.
“There’s only one bed,” I say, stating the obvious.
“Well, itisa pretty big bed, to be fair,” Remi counters.
“Should we call Dr. Benson? Or maybe the cabin rental? Although, with it being a peak weekend, I highly doubt they have more available cabins. Hmm. I could sleep on the couch? It looks decently comfortable.”
Remi’s eyes sparkle with mirth by the time I finish my outburst.
“Dude. Do I really need to remind youagain? I gave you a handy, then used your jizz to jerk off while you watched and also jerked off,” he deadpans. “I’m pretty sure we can share a bed. Possibly even cuddle.”
A carefree laugh escapes me because I guess he’s right. But on the other hand, sleeping next to someone seems so…intimate.
And I am most definitely not used to intimacy.
