“Does that mean you think I’m hot?”
She cups her flaming cheeks. “See? Gah, someone get me a muzzle. I wasn’t planning to humiliate myself again. There’s no controlling my inner chatterbox. She doesn’t know when to quit.”
“Nah, that’s very good to hear. Being upfront is a very attractive quality. Trust me.” She’s earned my praise, and certain parts of me are more than ready to salute her.
Blakely shakes her head, hiding from view behind bulky gloves. “No, it’s embarrassing.”
I stride forward until our feet are almost touching. Awkward discomfort doesn’t belong in this space. The easy flow of our interactions is one constant that alleviates my burdens. With a soft tug, I pull her wrists until she’s looking at me. “Don’t be shy with me. I guarantee you’ll hear me say plenty of blunt shit.”
She nibbles along the plump of her bottom lip. “The last thing I should be doing is hitting on you.”
“Why’s that?” I’m still gripping her wrists. She hasn’t pulled away. That’s a win in my book of redemption.
“We’re stranded, for starters.”
“But we’re together. Alone.” It’s no secret that my tone drops when I hover over that invisible line separating us.
Her gaze latches onto mine with a burning intensity that sets a fever across my skin. Static buzzes in my ears, the freezing air zapping with electricity. Those baby blues are swirling with a mixture of emotions, the clash raging louder with each passing beat. Plumes of steam funnel from her and cascade toward me. The narrow gap between us seems to shrink with every exhale.
There’s a tension growing that I can practically sense sliding along my tongue. I add the slightest pressure where my fingers are still gripping her arms. That bit of encouragement makes her suck in a stuttering gasp. The chord stretches taut until I sense a humming vibration.
Each pulse is thick, suspending us in this eternal void. This could be the moment to end my torment. She’s clinging to the ledge with me. Do we leap or step back? Choosing to be bold or safe has never threatened greater consequence. Blakely’s breath hitches as I sway further into her orbit.
A noisy grumble interrupts my internal debate. She shakes loose from my hold, slapping a palm over her torso. Our connection crumbles to the frozen ground when she drops her gaze. That sinking sensation plows into my gut soon after. There’s a wince tightening her features when she glances up at me.
“I guess it’s not just my mouth that can’t be quiet.”
“Shit.” I spit the curse with the most foul insult. My head got overruled by the singular-focused version.
Her cringe deepens. “I’m really sorry for ruining the moment.”
“Never apologize to me, especially for being hungry.” I dig out two packages of trail mix. “Eat these.”
She holds up a hand. “I shouldn’t. We need to conserve our supply.”
I push the snacks into her palm. “We’ll find more food. That’s why we’re scouting the area today, right?”
“But what if we don’t find anything?”
“That’s not the optimism I’ve come to expect from you.”
“I don’t want to be careless.”
It’s difficult to believe she ever could be. “We’re not in the desert. There are resources within hiking distance. It’s just a matter of finding them.”
Blakely’s eyes flare wide. She just gapes at me for a moment. “Holy shit. I just pictured us being trapped in the freaking Sahara. We wouldn’t make it out alive.”
I shrug. “Maybe they took pity on us after all.”
Her expression falls flat. “Not on purpose.”
“You’re right. We aren’t worth the extra miles and fuel. Small miracles, right?”
“If we’re really reaching for a silver lining.”
“That’s the spirit.” I scoop up a forgotten bowl full of water. “This is good to drink. Stay hydrated. We need to do a lot of walking.”
I’ve been too busy letting my cock lead the show. Blakely’s needs aren’t being met. The ones of a sexual variety don’t count. At least not in the forest, when survival is critical and at risk. Once we’re more established in a better place, those selfish demands can be readdressed.
She tips the metal to her lips, gulping the entire amount. “Thanks. I was thirsty. Those protein bars are drier than dust.”
I pass her the second bowl. “Have some more. Then we’ll get going.”
Her sips are slower now, but she drains the dish again. “Done. Do you need more?”
“I had some earlier. There’s always going to be more snow.”
Blakely squints at me. “You care about my health more than your own. But if you get sick, that’s