Page 36 of Frost
Jack and I never go more than a few hours without seeing each other. He leaves late at night while I’m asleep and returns before noon the next day. As I work, he watches TV or reads books on my Kindle. He’s especially fond of high-fantasy stories that involve sword fights and quests with a romantic subplot.
Once I meet my word count goal for the day, we trek to his cave where we laze around in the warm pool. We even fish several more times, and my skills improve. Not much, but some. I catch exactly one fish. The fact that it’s too small to keep doesn’t matter. I still hold it up with pride as I show it off to Jack, who laughs so hard I think he’ll never be able to catch his breath.
Págos still doesn’t like me.
I meet him two more times since the night I first learned of him, and he hasn’t warmed up to me. But he doesn’t try to stomp on me anymore. So, it’s progress at least. He still hasn’t let me touch him, but I’m hopeful that he eventually will.
Too bad I’m running out of time.
Much too quickly, the day for me to leave approaches. I only have two days left. A newlywed couple rented the cabin from mid to end of January, so there’s no way for me to extend my stay more than I already have.
Jack spends most of the morning with me but leaves around noon, so I use the time to work. I write into the evening and only stop when I hear a light tap at the window. I save my document, then get up and peer out the window. It’s mostly dark now, but there are faint traces of light still in the sky.
“Jack?” I ask, moving closer. A snowball hits the glass, and I jump back with a shout. “Goddammit!”
The window slides up and Jack hops through it, closing it once he’s standing in front of me, awfully smug by the looks of it. “Evening.”
“I really do think you’re trying to kill me,” I say, putting a hand to my racing heart.
“If you think I’m trying to kill you now, just wait until you see what I have planned for tonight.” Jack grins and closes the gap between our bodies. “I can feel your heart beating wildly. It really did startle you.”
“What was that bit about you possibly killing me tonight?” I ask, not letting the topic drop that easily.
He answers me with a soft kiss.
“Mhm,” I mumble against his lips. “Thinking you can distract me with kisses. It won’t work.”
“No?” Jack presses his mouth to mine again before pecking kisses along my jaw and to the sensitive area right below my ear. “I can practically feel you melting under my touch.”
“And you calledmeevil.” I place my hands on his hips, trying to shove aside all my depressing thoughts of how our touches might be limited.
We haven’t talked about what will happen once I go back home.
Will he still visit me? Or will it be a real goodbye?
I fear the answer, so I don’t ask. Not yet anyway.
“Bundle up,” he says, pulling from my arms. He doesn’t go far, though, just over to the plate of cookies he was munching on earlier that day when watching TV. He liked the sugar cookies from New Year’s Eve so much that he made me make more the other day, as well as more pretzel snacks—which have already been devoured with nothing but crumbs left.
“Where are you taking me?” Even as I ask the question, I walk toward the bedroom. I would go with him anywhere.
Only two days left.
No. Stop thinking about it.
Jack follows behind me, light on his feet. He sprawls out on our bed as I change out of my lounge clothes and into warmer ones. And yeah, I totally consider the bed ours. He’s spent every night with me over the past week and a half, even if he does leave once I’ve fallen asleep.
“I want to show you even more of my world,” he casually answers.
I turn to him as I button my thick flannel shirt. The thing is hideous but warm. “How?”
A smile dances across his lips. “You’ll see.”
The weeks with Jack have allowed me to learn more of his personality quirks, among other things. Keeping me in the dark is something he takes a lot of delight in. So, there’s no point in asking him further. He’ll only smirk and make me wait anyway.
I tie my boots before grabbing my heavy coat off the back of the chair in the kitchen.
“Your gloves too,” Jack says, handing them to me.
