6. Penelope
6
PENELOPE
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth as I watch him walk toward his bedroom.
Am I doing this to embarrass him? Maybe.
Am I doing this because I want to see those Adonis abs in the flesh? Absolutely.
Let’s just say the whiskey is getting to me. Not that anything will happen between us. I mean, this game of truth or dare is not going to turn into us stripping and making out. It’s just the two of us. It would be weird if I said I dare you to kiss me, right?
I shake the stupid thoughts from my head wondering if I should switch to water when Nick walks out of the bedroom in that damn Santa suit. I try to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. I saw that picture of course, but that has nothing on seeing him in person. I thought maybe it was just good contrast or the way the light and the shadows played on his skin, but no. He one hundred percent has a six-pack etched by the gods. No wait, maybe that’s eight.
Is that what he does up here in the middle of nowhere? Put on Santa suits for some strange reason and do crunches? Maybe if he chooses truth at some point, I will ask.
“Do you need a napkin?”
I blink a few times when I realize he is talking to me. “Um, what?”
“You’re drooling.”
My cheeks flame in embarrassment. “No, I’m not,” I defend. “Do you need medication? You’re hallucinating.”
He just smirks at me as he walks toward the door that leads down to the garage. “You going to watch this?”
“Yes, but not from outside.” I point to my feet. “No suitable shoes for snow, remember?”
He shrugs. “I guess you won’t get to see these abs glistening when the snow hits them then.”
I make a face at him and tuck a piece of loose hair behind my ear. “I don’t really care. I just wanted to see if you would do the dare.” I point to the door. “Go on then. I’ll watch from the balcony.”
He holds up a finger, then jogs back to his room before returning with a pair of slippers. “They’re probably way too big, but at least you won’t have to stand out there barefoot.”
I take the slippers from him and slide them on as he goes downstairs to head outside.
I make my way over to the balcony doors and slip outside, pulling down on the sleeves of my sweater to cover my hands from the cold. I lean over the side of the balcony where I think the front door is below me and wait for Nick to head outside.
Light lands on a portion of the driveway, and I know that Nick is walking outside. The light disappears as I hear the door slam shut but then a motion sensor light comes on lighting him up in all his glory. He looks up at the balcony searching for me, and when he sees me, he throws me the bird before taking off in a jog around the left side of the house.
I laugh as I watch him, wishing I was close enough to get this on camera too. It was funny to watch him howl, but I would much rather enjoy looking at him shirtless. The balcony wraps around the entirety of the house, and I follow it around, slipping on the snow as it’s deeper on this side of the house than the other.
Nick slows down as the snow hits up to his knees by the time he gets to the back of the house. He runs around an outside patio area that has an outdoor fireplace and a hot tub.
“Looking good out there, Santa!” I yell at him, knowing it’s just going to annoy him.
As we wrap around the other side of the house, I lose him when no motion sensor light comes on. But I keep walking until I get to the front of the house where he started. I lean over the balcony again, my hands pressing into the cold, wet snow, but I can’t see him. Panic edges its way into my brain, maybe the snow was too thick, maybe he got eaten by an animal.
But before I can talk myself out of those stupid thoughts, I get hit in the cheek with something wet.
What the fuck?
Then I’m hit again, right in the chest. The snowball sticking to my sweater before falling to the ground.
“Nicholas Snow!” I yell.
I hear him laughing but can’t see him in the woods surrounding his house.
The next snowball hits the light just in time for me to dodge it as it smacks against the glass window behind me.
“This isn’t funny.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I still can’t see him. But I know if I don’t go inside, there is a good chance—
Bang, right into the side of my head.
Dammit, he has good aim.
I yell and bend down to make my own snowball, but it’s no use. Nick is hiding in whatever spot he knows won’t set off the motion sensor lights. I wish I had a bucket so I could fill it with snow and dump it on him when he needs to walk inside. But I don’t. Instead, I just make three snowballs as I duck beneath the balustrade leaving them as ammunition on the railing. I wait long enough that I see the motion light go off, and then I spring into action grabbing two snowballs to throw at him for when he makes his way to the door, but I don’t see him.
I groan in frustration. Where did that asshole go?
I look everywhere moving along the front side of the balcony looking for him. I give up. I have no idea where he is, my sweater is wet from the snow, and my feet are beginning to freeze.
I turn around to head inside and scream when I see him standing behind me. “Looking for me?”
I don’t even bother to look at the snow glistening on his abs as I take the snowball slowly melting in my hand and smash it into the side of his face.
He laughs, unfazed by the snow. It throws me off guard that I don’t even notice the giant snowball he has in his stupidly large hand until he is smashing it on the top of my head.
“Nick!” I scream as the cold overtakes me.
He just grins at me.
I smack him in the chest, but it’s like hitting an iron door. The man could be Superman, since it feels like he is made of steel.
Then my eyes really do fall to those abs, and I can’t help my thighs from clenching. I can’t help it that I have a thing for men that look like they could be on the cover of a romance novel.
“Get a good look?”
I roll my eyes at him and push him out of the way as I stomp back inside. Now I am annoyed, wet, and cold.
“Pen,” he says as I push open the balcony door and rip off my wet sweater.
I’m not really thinking as I pull it off. I just know that I’m cold and wet and annoyed, and not thinking about the fact I’m only wearing some see through red lace bra underneath. Not even when I turn around and throw my hands on my hips to look at him. “You know not everything is about you and your stupid perfect body.”
The smirk on his face falls as he takes me in, his eyes immediately dropping to my chest. That’s when I look down and realize the mistake I made. My hands fly off my hips so fast and cover my chest. “It—I was cold,” I stutter.
Obviously, you idiot. Your nips are standing at attention right through your damn bra.
“Uh, yeah.” Nick clears his throat, and I realize I have him at a loss for words. I mean, I don’t have much going on up top, the girls are a solid B, but they have some sort of effect on him. “Your sweater is probably soaked.”
“Well, you’re the asshole who was throwing snowballs at me!”
And just like that the awkwardness fades away.
He grins at me. “You were too easy of a target.”
“I’ll get you back for this.”
“This was my payback for those stupid dares you had me doing.”
I just shrug as I turn and grab a blanket off the couch, wrapping it around me.
I watch as he leans over and unties the snow boots he has on, slipping them off and leaving them in a wet mess by the balcony door.
“Let’s get you some dry clothes to change into.” He grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall.
I try not to think about every single one of my junior high and high school dreams coming true as my old crush pulls me toward his bedroom by the hand.
Grow up, Pen. This is just him being nice to you. But I can’t stop thinking of the way his face changed when he looked at my tits. The way desire flashed through his eyes turning those azure irises molten even if it was for just a second.
As we walk into his bedroom, I take in the way the exposed wood logs aren’t covered up like they were in his studio. The logs bring a warmth into the room that wasn’t in the other room. A large king-size bed sits pushed against the log cabin wall, silky dark gray sheets covering the bed with a fur throw sitting at the foot of the bed, his clothes from earlier thrown in the middle. Unlike every other guy I’ve known, which on a personal level is not many, he has no television in his room. Just a dresser with nothing on it, no pictures, no décor. A lonely chair and ottoman sit facing the large window with a small table next to it, a book I can’t read the title of sitting there. I am sure that the view looks out into the woods or maybe to a view of the mountains beyond.
He leaves me near the bed as he walks into what looks like a walk-in closet, I lean over to get a better view and see it’s a small hall with built-in shelves that leads to an attached bathroom.
He comes back out with a sweatshirt and a pair of sweats. “They’ll definitely be too big for you, but at least it’s better than the wet clothes you have on.”
He hands them to me before walking to the dresser where he pulls out a T-shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks, stacking them on top of my arms. “The bathroom is just through the closet. I can throw everything into the dryer later, at least if we still have power. Snow is definitely getting heavier.”
“Okay,” I answer softly then head into the bathroom.
I shut the door behind me, setting the clothes on top of the single vanity. The bathroom is smaller than I thought it would be. A decent size walk-in shower with a rainfall showerhead is across from the toilet and vanity, the black tiles a stark contrast to the wood throughout the house. The vanity matches with black cabinets against the white walls.
I drop the blanket that’s wrapped around my shoulders and strip off my leggings that are more wet than I thought. Even my underwear is wet, so I pull those off too. Since I don’t even really need the bra, I throw that into the pile of wet clothes before slipping into Nick’s clothes. They’re clean, so they don’t smell of fresh air and winter snow. I almost want to dig through the vanity and see if his cologne is in here, maybe I can just add a spritz to the clothes. Or maybe that is his natural smell, he is somewhat of a mountain man.
I shake the stupid thought from my head as I roll the sweatpants until they sit normally on my hips and slip the hoodie over my head. I leave the wet slippers to dry in the bathroom as I grab my wet clothes and the blanket off the floor.
When I walk back into the bedroom, Nick is gone. I want to snoop. I want to know more about him. What his life has been like since he left Ouray. I want to know more than what he’s told me. I know he is holding things back, since he obviously keeps choosing dare. Although, I do think our game is over now.
I leave the bedroom and head back to the living room to find him adding more wood to the fire. I throw the blanket onto the couch just as he turns to face me.
“I’ll take your clothes.” He reaches out for them, and I hand them off then turn and grab my sweater I threw onto the couch earlier. “I’ll go throw these in the wash.”
“Thanks.”
“The kettle is on, and there is hot chocolate in the cabinet. Not sure if you wanted that or tea.”
I smile at him. “Hot chocolate sounds perfect.”
He gives me a soft smile in return. “I’ll make it when I come back upstairs.”
He heads toward the garage, and I make my way toward the kitchen. I find the mugs and the hot chocolate. I’m not sure if he would rather have tea but since he has hot chocolate, and he mentioned it, I guess I will make him a cup as well.
I’m in the refrigerator looking for whipped cream when he starts talking behind me. “Geez, you need to stop creeping up on me,” I screech as I turn around.
“Sorry. You looking for something?”
“Whipped cream,” I answer as I go back to the fridge.
“Don’t have any.”
I spin around. “Who drinks hot chocolate without whip cream?”
“Uh…me. I don’t want all that extra sugar. There’s enough in the hot chocolate as it is.”
“Heathen,” I mutter under my breath as I shut the door.
“I do have marshmallows.”
“Oh yeah?”
He nods and reaches into the cabinet above the fridge, pushing me into the door, giving me a strong whiff of that scent I was missing earlier, the one that is Nick Snow.
“Hopefully they aren’t hard.”
The word hard has me glancing down at his sweats, thinking about what could be hard. I curse myself for thinking about him naked again.
“You okay?” he asks as he steps away.
I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath as if I am trying to keep the smell of him clinging to me. “Me? Oh yeah, totally fine,” I mumble.
He gives me a look then laughs. “Weirdo.”
God, I hope he didn’t realize I was smelling him.
I remain still as I watch him stir the hot chocolate and add marshmallows to each cup. He grabs one and starts to walk toward the living room. “You coming?”
“Yep!” I say overenthusiastically. I curse myself for acting like an idiot but whatever. I’m sure he thinks I am one.
When I walk into the living room, I contemplate the floor again but since I’m in warmer clothes, I now decide that I can just sit on the couch. I get as close to the end as I can without falling over the armrest. Nick is messing around with a record player in the corner, throwing on a vinyl of some indie band I’ve never heard before.
He sits down on the opposite end of the couch, grabbing his hot chocolate off the coffee table and blowing on it to cool it down. I swear I try hard not to stare at his lips.
“So, whose turn was it?”
“Huh?” I ask, not really paying attention.
“Yours, right? Are we still playing?”
Oh right, truth or dare. “Um, sure, if you want to.”
“We can watch a movie if you want.” He yawns. “Not sure if I’ll make it through one though.”
I sip on my hot chocolate although it is a bit too hot to drink. “I guess we can play a few more rounds.”
“So truth or dare?”
I don’t need to think about it for long. I really don’t want to do anything stupid. “Truth.”
I look over at him as I say it, and his eyes meet with mine. There is an intensity in them I haven’t seen since I got here. I don’t even know what it means. I look away quickly, unable to keep his gaze.
“What’s your biggest regret?”
I glance back over at him. “Going for the deep questions, huh?”
“I guess it depends on your answer.”
He has a point. I could tell him something stupid. Like cheating on a test in high school. But it wouldn’t be true. Because my biggest regret eats at me every single day. I wish it were something easy. I wish I could just make something up, and I guess I could. But I feel like he would know. The way he looks at me, it just feels like he is looking into my soul sometimes.
“Quitting.”
“Quitting?”
I nod. “Giving up on my dream. I mean I know it landed me in debt, but I wish I just sucked it up or worked harder. Found a way to power through the hard times. Instead, I just gave up and quit.”
“How long ago did you move back here?”
“Three months ago.”
“So, it’s not really quitting, you could go back to traveling.”
I shrug as I pick at a snag in the throw blanket on the back of the couch. “I mean I could, but I tried. It didn’t work out. I should have just listened to my parents and gone to college like every other person. Then live my life the way people are supposed to.”
“And how exactly are people supposed to?”
“You know…get a degree, get a real job, get married, start a family.”
He snorts. “You don’t really think that do you? I mean look at your brother. He didn’t go to school, and your parents are perfectly fine with that.”
“Yeah, because he’s a professional snowboarder making a few hundred thousand a year. And of course, he mentioned recently that he just landed a few sponsorships. Of course, my parents don’t care about what he does.”
“I’m sure they would be fine with you doing whatever makes you happy, Pen.”
I roll my eyes. “How about you talk to them and find out?” I snap.
He sighs. “Look, they may not be my parents, but they are reasonable people. I’m sure if you talk to them about what you truly want, they would understand.”
“You think I haven’t?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe not in the way they need.”
“Whatever.” I really don’t want to talk about this. I don’t need to be lectured by someone else about my life decisions or how to better approach people about them. My parents don’t care about what I want. Plain and simple.
“All I’m saying is—”
“I get it. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
He holds up his hands then settles back into the couch. I don’t know if I even want to play this stupid game anymore. I don’t care if it was my idea. I guess I should have chosen dare.
I could lie and say I’m ready for bed. I could use some alone time.
“Truth,” he tells me.
I look over at him with a brow raised. “You still want to play?”
“Why not? I still have half a cup of hot chocolate.”
I don’t take any time asking him a question. “Why did you move back to Ouray when I thought you were so determined to get out?” I know I’m digging, but I want to get something personal out of him.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“This is your truth, besides I already told you that I ran out of money traveling.”
“I knew I should have stuck to dare,” he mutters.
“Too late.”
“Well then you need to answer my question too.”
“Only if I say truth.” Which to be honest, I’m done with this game. He kind of pissed me off acting like a parental figure. Actually, just like an older brother because Wesley told me to say the exact same thing to our parents.
“It’s only fair,” he says to me.
I ignore his statement. “So, tell me, Nicky, why did you move back home?”
He’s quiet for a moment before he quietly answers. “My dad.”
“But I thought you hated your dad. That was why you were always at our house as kids.”
He nods. “Yeah, well sometimes you need to do things you don’t want to do.”
I roll my hand in front of me. “Elaborate.”
“I answered your question.”
I guffaw. “That was hardly an answer.”
“It one hundred percent was an answer.”
“I elaborated. You have not. So why did you move back here for your dad when he was the reason you left in the first place?”
He rubs his hands over his face. “Why did I agree to this game?”
“I’m not going to tell anyone. I don’t even know who I would tell. I’m sure Wes knows, so it’s not like you have any reason for me to—”
“Wes doesn’t even know I’m in Ouray.”
“What?” My eyes bug out of my head.
“I haven’t told him.”
“But my parents know you’re here, surely they’ve told him.”
He shakes his head. “I asked them not to.”
“But…how long have you been here?” I ask because from the looks of his house and everything he’s said, it just feels like he’s been here a while.
“Two years.”
“And you haven’t told your best friend you’re a few hours away?” I can’t believe that for a second. “Wait, are you two no longer friends?”
Nick runs his hands through his hair and stares up at the ceiling. “This is why I should have just chosen dare again.”
“Well, you need to answer at least one of my questions.”
“I did!”
“Hardly.”
I groan in frustration. Why won’t he tell me anything? And why does Wes have no idea he’s here?
I sip my hot chocolate. It’s barely lukewarm now, and it has lost its luster much like this conversation. “Well, if you aren’t going to tell me anything, you might as well go to bed so I can curl up on this couch and get some sleep.”
I stand up and walk to the kitchen. I know I don’t deserve to know anything about Nick Snow, but I felt like we bonded somewhat tonight. I thought he would give me something rather than keeping that stone wall up around him. I mean I guess he gave me something. Well two things. But I want to know more. I don’t know how many days I’ll be here. But I know I want to get something personal out of him.
I finish washing my mug and set it to dry on the drying rack. I turn around and nearly jump out of my skin again when I find him just a couple feet away holding his own empty mug.
“You can sleep in the bed; I’ll take the couch.”
I grab his mug from him and turn back to the sink to wash it. “You don’t have to do that,” I say over my shoulder. “I’ve slept on plenty of couches.”
“It’s drafty in here, though. The bedroom is warmer. It’s the least I could do.”
I turn off the water after setting his mug down. “You’ve already given me somewhere to stay that isn’t inside of a car on the side of the road.”
He laughs. “You have a point.”
I walk past him and head for the couch.
“I mean it, Pen, sleep in the bedroom.”
I don’t want to argue with him, and his bed did look a hell of a lot more comfortable than that couch. “Fine,” I concede.
He follows me down the hall, and I get a very different idea of how this night could go. But I quickly turn off the stupid high school crush dreams.
I look for the light switch on the wall but it’s hard to find in the dark space. I feel him behind me though, his hand reaching out to the wall where I couldn’t find the switch.
“I can grab you new sheets if you want.”
I turn to face him. “Do you have cooties?”
He laughs again. “Are we eight?”
“I think it was a fair question.”
He shakes his head at me with a soft smile on his face. “Last I checked, I was cootie-free.”
“Good. Then I don’t need new sheets.”
I walk over to the bed and pull the covers back, the bed looking more inviting by the second. I pull off the hoodie and then slip out of my sweats and toss them both on the chair by the window. Thankfully the T-shirt he gave me is long enough that it hits just above my knees since I threw my underwear into the pile of clothes for him to dry.
“What are you doing?”
“Huh?”
He gestures to the clothing I’ve taken off.
“Oh, I sleep hot.” I slip under the covers and take a deep breath. The sheets smell just like him. This is so much better than a couch.
“Do you need anything?” he asks.
I shake my head as I burrow deeper under the blankets. “No. God, this bed is so comfortable.”
“I know.”
I look over at him. “You know we are adults. You could just sleep here. I promise I won’t touch you. We can even put pillows up as a barrier between us.”
He rubs his hand over his chin. “I’ll take the couch.”
“You sure?” I rub the spot on the bed next to me. “It’s so warm in here.”
He looks between me and the bed but shakes his head.
“Oh, come on. I can see that look of longing on your face.”
He sighs and to my surprise actually walks over to the bed and sits on the edge. “I haven’t told your brother I’m here because I made a promise to him that I would never come back.”
I freeze. I didn’t expect him to say anything.
“And if he found out I was here, I don’t know what he would say.”
“So, you just lie to him?”
He shrugs. “I mean not really. I just omit the truth.”
“But my parents are lying for you.”
He turns to look at me. “Has Nick ever asked them if they’ve seen me?”
“No because he doesn’t know you’re here!”
“So, they aren’t lying.”
I huff. “No, doofus, they are since they have obviously seen you and have agreed to keep their mouths shut about it.”
“Just omitting the truth.”
“That’s still lying!” I clench my fist. I hate liars, and I hate that he doesn’t see this for what it is.
“I don’t want to disappoint someone else in my life.”
I look up at him, and he’s turned back to looking at the ground. But I can see part of his side profile, and there is pain etched into his face.
I reach over and rest my hand on his arm. “I don’t think Wes would be disappointed if he knew you came back here.”
“Yes, he would.”
“You came back for your dad, that has to mean something.”
He turns to look at me. “Not when the reason I left was because of my dad.”
“Oh.” It’s all I can say. I don’t know the whole story, but it does make some sort of sense, I guess.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He turns and looks at me. “Absolutely not.”
“I tried.” I give him a soft smile. “So, what do you want to talk about?”
He fully turns and lifts his feet up and onto the bed, leaning back into the pillows. “What was your favorite place you traveled to?”
I lean on my elbow and prop my head on my hand. “It’s probably Bali.”
And that’s how I end up falling asleep, the two of us talking about our travels and our favorite places we’ve been to.