Authors: Katlyn Duncan
“You alright?” he asks.
“My foot,” is all I manage through my teeth. My breathing is heavy as I try to will the pain away.
Will’s hand swipes at my hair, tucking it behind my ear. He presses his lips to mine in an innocent kiss and takes my hands in his. “Let me help you up.”
I let him pull me into a sitting position, using one of the decorative pillows to prop me up. Heat blazes in my cheeks as he covers me with the quilt hanging off the side of the couch. He tucks me in securely like my dad used to. I can’t help but smile up at him. He puts two pillows under my feet and inspects his work.
“How about some hot chocolate?” he asks.
What I really want is his hot body on mine, but I settle for something almost as sweet. “Sure.”
***
The sun is just setting over the horizon as I sip from my third mug of hot chocolate. I pick a mini marshmallow from the liquid and pop it into my mouth. Will sits on the opposite side of the couch, munching on another handful of pretzels, our snack of choice after the plate of cheese and cold cuts were polished off earlier.
“How come you were so cranky earlier?” I ask, flexing my foot. It’s still sore.
He grabs my foot and holds it in place. He iced it for a while but I insisted we take a break after my foot went numb. “Sorry ‘bout that. I got in my own head.”
“About what?”
His jaw clenches and he stares at the coffee table for a minute before responding. “Nothin’ in particular.”
I press the toe of my good foot into his arm and raise an eyebrow. I’m comfortable and relaxed and not in the mood for his evasiveness, especially after he seemed over it a little while ago.
He tickles my foot until I move it away from him. “Fine. We haven’t been alone in a while. And since Becky invited us up here, I wanted to leave the City as soon as we could. The traffic just got to me. I’m sorry.”
Even though Will desperately tries to never be like his alcoholic father, he has the same proclivity towards anger when something doesn’t go his way. I forgave him hours ago, but I need him to be aware of how it affected our relationship sometimes.
“We’re here now,” I say through a yawn.
He smiles lazily. “One almost broken foot later.”
“The key word is ‘almost’.”
Will sits up and turns towards the window. “I thought I saw a wood pile out there. Want me to build a fire?”
I raise my mug in a one-person toast. “There’s the Christmas spirit!”
He laughs. “You have more than enough spirit for the both of us.”
“Want some help?”
He slides off the couch and kisses my forehead. “Nope. You sit here and rest that foot.”
I put the mug down on the table and nestle into the blanket. Will quickly ties his boots and puts his coat on before leaving the cabin. His boots clomp across the porch and I watch him through the windows until he disappears around the corner.
My head falls against the armrest of the couch as my eyes start to droop. The hot chocolate, full stomach, and a few months’ worth of not-so-great sleep start to take a toll on me. I think of heat from the fire and I close my eyes just for a minute, waiting for Will to return.
The next morning, I roll over into something hard. It grunts and pushes back. I smile to myself, opening my eyes. Will lets out an exasperated sigh and drifts back to sleep. Sunlight streams in through the break in the thick baby blue curtains. In the excitement of me falling, I didn’t get a chance to explore the second floor at all.
The room we’re in is half the size of the living room. With all the exposed wood I almost feel like we’re in a tree house. Two sitting chairs and a small table take up one corner and in the other is an armoire. Will and I slept on a gorgeous four poster bed.
Speaking of, I slide my arm under his and tuck his body closer to mine. I outline his strong abs with my fingers.
“Good morning,” he says groggily.
I bite back a smile. “Good morning. I guess I fell asleep huh?”
He rolls over, his eyes lidded with sleep but the corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin. “How’s your foot?”
I wiggle my toes and roll my ankle under the covers. There’s a dull ache but nothing like yesterday. “Better.”
His hand moves under my shirt, skimming the delicate skin over my stomach to my lower back, and pulls me closer to him. I feel him growing against my leg and butterflies erupt inside me. I lick my lips and swallow the stale taste in my mouth. Will leans in to kiss me but I press my lips together and scoot away from him. “One second” I say, lifting the covers over me and bounding off the bed.
My suitcase made it up to the room and I dig through for my toothbrush.
“Bathroom right there,” Will says sleepily, pointing to a door at the other end of the room.
Perfect.
I brush faster than I ever have before, closing my eyes, focusing on the task. I’m almost finished when I feel hands over my waist. I open my eyes and Will is right behind me, kissing my shoulder. I melt into him and stare at him through the mirror.
He moves to my other shoulder. “You know I don’t care about morning breath.” He kisses my other shoulder, brushing my hair away from my neck and kissing there too.
I sigh and spit the remaining toothpaste out, as ladylike as I can. “Well I do.”
He wrinkles his nose and removes a hand from me and reaches for his toothbrush. Now it’s my turn to tease him. I glance at the shower.
In the time we’ve been in the City, we’ve had rare moments to be a couple outside of his locked bedroom. This is the ideal spot outside of our places with no imminent return of any roommates, which totally spoiled any intimate moments. Now we have all the time in the world to ourselves to do whatever we want without interruption.
All my life I was the background character in what seemed like the bigger picture. Throughout our school years, Lily usually stole the show but that was okay with me. I put my head down and studied my butt off to make sure I could leave Spring Falls as soon as possible.
But here, in this cabin with the boy-next-door, I feel center stage. No one is around for miles, it’s just us. A tingling sensation takes residence in my stomach as I peel off my t-shirt and walk backwards towards the shower.
Will’s brushing stops for a second as his eyes travel over me from the mirror. He rinses his mouth and tosses his toothbrush onto the counter. A secret thrill bursts inside of me as I reach past the curtain for the faucet.
Our eyes lock as he finishes up, barely taking the time to wipe his face of toothpaste before sprinting over to me. He scoops me up in his arms, pressing my bare chest to his still-clothed one. He kisses me deeply. Our freshly minted breaths mingle, eliciting a pleasurable chill down my spine.
He places me down on my feet but doesn’t let go. The only time our lips stop touching is the fraction of a second when he pulls his shirt over his head. I rake my hands through his hair that he allowed to grow out over the semester. It’s wild and free just like I am.
I toy with the hem of his boxers and before I know it they’re gone. He cups my breast with his warm hand and I sink into him, moving my hands over his strong shoulders and along his waist. I never get tired of touching him.
I’m still in my jeans and he pops the top button, and pulls so the zipper slides down. He pushes the jeans down and they fall to the ground at our feet. I step out of them and break our kissing for a second to make sure I don’t trip.
Will chuckles, a rumbling against my hand on his chest.
I roll my eyes and bring his lips to me again.
He pulls the curtain aside and steps into the shower, tugging me along with him. The warm spray of water soaks us within seconds. My skin ignites with pleasure at Will’s heated touch over every part of my body. We’re under the spray, touching, kissing, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies as if it’s the first time.
Will kisses my neck and I drop my head back, giving him access to what we both want. Heat pools between my legs and I wrap my hand around him. His breath hitches but he continues to kiss me.
The pressure from the shower lessens for a second before the water turns lukewarm and then, all of a sudden, freezing cold.
“Oh my God!” I fall back from Will as if I’ve been pelleted with actual icicles. He stands up straight and turns around, moving the faucet towards the ‘H’ etched on it. The water does the opposite. I press my back against the far end of the tub but the water still reaches me as if the shower head was a rocket launcher.
“T-turn it off!” I stammer over chattering teeth.
The spray stops completely at my words and Will looks up at it just as it comes out again, spraying wildly as if there’s air caught in the pipes.
He turns the faucet off and the spray stops, leaving only a trickle of water coming from it.
My arms are crossed over my chest and my teeth are still chattering.
Will slicks back his hair as he stares at the faucet. He takes a deep breath and cocks his head towards me. “Huh.”
I shove the curtain aside and locate a towel in the small closet, quickly wrapping myself in it. I didn’t realize how cold the cabin was until after the freezing soak. I grab another towel and toss it to Will who is halfway out of the tub. He wraps the towel around his waist and crosses the room to me.
He kisses my cheek and traces a finger down my chin. “That was refreshing.”
I crack a smile at his quip and he opens his arms to me. Despite the cold shower, he’s still warm and I nuzzle against his chest. “Is anything going to go right this week?”
“If I have anything to say about it, yes.” He slips his pants and shirt back on. “I’ll fix it and we can get back to what we were doing.” He leaves the room, me dripping wet and cold without him.
***
I dress in a clean pair of jeans, t-shirt, and fluffy navy blue sweatshirt with the NYU logo on the front. I pile my damp hair high on my head so none of it touches my exposed neck. I check my cell phone that Will placed on the side table, plugged into the charger.
A text from mom greets me:
Two days until Christmas! Don’t peek at your gifts!
I text her back:
You know I won’t. How’s the weather?
I tuck the phone into my back pocket and await her response.
With the moment alone, I explore the other three rooms on the second floor. Two of them are smaller bedrooms with twin-sized beds and the last door is another full bathroom. I imagine this place filled with a family around Christmas time and warmth spreads through me. I wonder if Will wishes his family could be here with him too? For now, I need to fill that void for him, I just have to figure out how.
Above a small table there’s a rectangular cut-out in the ceiling. It looks like an attic hatchway just like my grandparents’ house. I take what seems like a random wooden steps tool from under the table and move it underneath the hatch. With the stool, I’m just tall enough to reach the door.
My fingers hook into the latch and I pull down slowly. With the luck we’ve had so far, I’m not taking any chances of breaking my neck or something equally important. But unlike the broken stair, the hatch opens smoothly, revealing a fold-down ladder. From the condition of the ladder it doesn’t look as if it’s been used much; maybe one of the things that’s been replaced over the years?
“If only the stairs had been checked out,” I mumble to myself, pulling down the rest of the ladder.
I test my weight but the ladder doesn’t budge. I slowly climb it.
The attic is the expanse of the second floor, every surface covered with about an inch of dust. I lift myself into the room, the ceiling brushing the top of my head. Besides the dust, there are about a dozen cardboard boxes piled on a few pieces of plywood. Dad always struck fear in me as a kid not to step between the floor joists for fear of falling through into the floor below. I never tested the theory and I wasn’t about to start today.
My phone buzzes and it’s a text from Ethan along with a photo. The three of them are on the beach looking up at me through the picture.
Mom doesn’t know how to send a pic. Asked me to. Hope you’re freezing ur butt off ;)
Nice,
I quickly type back.
I open the top box, which is filled with winter clothes: ski pants, gloves, and hats. At least if we run out of anything we have a stash up here. I think of the cold water and I hope the heat holds up. Freezing to death isn’t my idea of a vacation.
I move that box aside and the next one jingles when I move it. A secret thrill blooms in my chest and I open the box filled with Christmas ornaments. I put that one to the side and check the rest. The ornament box is one of five that have decorations. I imagine filling the first floor with Christmas cheer and seeing Will’s face when I’m done.
My stomach growls and I obey, excited by the prospect of decorating our own winter wonderland, leaving the boxes for later. I’ll ask Will later to help me get them down.
***
When I get to the first floor, Will is nowhere in sight.
I head for the kitchen. “Will?”
“In here,” his voice carries from inside the closet I checked out yesterday.
I poke my head in and find him kneeling next to the water heater, shining his phone flashlight on it. I look up at the ceiling. What idiot wouldn’t put a light in here? Will has two parts of the heater exposed and I have no idea what I’m looking at, but it doesn’t appear promising for a hot shower any time soon.
“Did you figure it out?”
He sighs and massages the back of his neck.
I cross my arms and lean against the door frame. “That bad?”
He doesn’t look at me. “It’s the thermostat. It’s busted.”
“Can you fix it or do we need another one?”
He stands up, fisting his phone in his hand. “We need another one.”
“Do you think there’s a hardware store in town?”
“I don’t know!” His tone is sharp and it startles me.
“Well I don’t know either,” I mumble.
He finally looks at me, his jaw clenching and unclenching. I fear the bone is about to pop through his cheek.