Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Chesteria
“When the Axe Falls he was putting on a show.
For who? I couldn’t say for sure, but the sight of him confidently chopping wood in twenty-degree weather suggested that I, perhaps, was his only audience.
That was one thing I absolutely adored about Bryce: he was a man…
all man. And not the kind that just wanted the title or would post memes about being a provider just to turn around and split the bill.
Nah. Bryce knew how to fix a leak, build a shelf, calm a storm, and make a girl feel safe in one breath and seen in the next.
He didn’t talk about protection; he was protection.
That man could wire a generator, grill in the snow, and hold a crying woman without making it awkward.
Bryce wasn’t allergic to hard work or intimacy; he didn’t flinch around tears, and he didn’t call a woman crazy for needing reassurance… he gave it freely.
And Lord, the man looked good doing it.
Bryce had never let me lift a finger financially…
not one. From the moment he asked me to be his girl back in college, he made me put my wallet away.
He even took over my cell phone bill and upgraded my plan.
When I argued, he got offended, like my independence was disrespectful to his intentions.
And he didn’t just pay for things, he showed up.
Bryce promised me that night on the quad bench under the stars, “I’ma protect you, love you, and never make you question either one.
” And for the most part, he meant it. Until that one moment that still clawed at my chest like it happened yesterday.
The night our baby didn’t make it, and Bryce left me to grieve alone in a room that smelled like antiseptic and death.
My arms wrapped tighter around my body.
I turned away from the window and ran into just the person I wanted to see—Isis.
She descended slowly from the staircase, hips swinging and body banging, like she was modeling for a luxury sleepwear line.
Gone were the crop top and booty shorts from earlier.
In its place, a plush, expensive-looking—and clearly not from Target—ivory pajama set hugged her curves.
I had to give it to Isis… she was a bad bitch.
Whatever surgeon had carved her up deserved a damn award.
Not to be mistaken, I was just as pretty and shapely, but unlike her, my ass didn’t clap back when I sat down, and I didn’t need injections in my lips, cheeks, or self-worth.
“Outside,” I answered, dryly. “Where we’re going.”
Isis stopped cold, face twisted like I just told her we had to fight a bear.
“Going?”
I exhaled slowly, already feeling my patience packing its bags.
“Yeah,” I confirmed dryly. “Since they’re cutting the wood, the least we can do is bring it inside. It’s called teamwork.”
Cutting wood was traditionally a man’s job, yeah, but when me and Bryce were together, I always jumped in anyway.
We moved as a unit—even though he used to fuss about how much I insisted on helping.
That’s just who I was, though. I was that ride or die chick…
cold or cozy… always ready to get my hands dirty if it meant making the work easier for both of us.
Isis stood beside me, arms folded tightly across her chest, frowning like a pissed off toddler who had just been told she couldn’t have dessert.
“No, it’s called breaking a nail. It’s called I don’t do manual labor. It’s called my hands are meant for mimosas and moisturizers, not manhandling logs in negative twenty wind chill! This isn’t the Oregon Trail!”
I turned to her fully and raised an eyebrow.
“Isis, this isn’t one of those ‘do you feel like helping’ type questions; it’s an order.
Around here, warmth gotta be earned. So either you come, or you freeze.
Ain’t nobody over here playing house while you play princess.
If your arms are too delicate to carry wood, maybe you are built for the cold.
But if you want warmth? You gotta clock in, sis. ”
I didn’t wait around for her rebuttal. I swung the heavy door open and stepped outside, letting the icy wind slap me like it had a personal grudge.
The chill hit my cheeks with a sharp sting, causing me to gasp involuntarily.
I tucked my chin into my thick coat, pulled the fur-lined hood tighter around my ears, and power-walked forward through the thick, white snow.
I spotted Bryce a few feet away, hunched over a short stack of freshly cut wood like he was preparing for winter in Alaska.
“Hey,” I called out, jogging slightly to close the gap.
Bryce looked up. His woolen hat was dusted with a layer of snow, and his face was flushed from the cold. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his glove.
“Everything good?” he asked, a small frown creasing his forehead.
“I’m just here to help bring in some wood,” I offered, reaching for a nearby log.
He squinted at me. “Nah, go on back inside. I’m good.”
Like I figured.
Sometimes I listened to Bryce and let him be a man, but I didn’t need him out there too long, risking getting sick.
I wouldn’t have minded nursing him back to health—been there, done that, and lowkey liked it—but if another bear came and he was too ill, I would’ve probably been screwed.
I definitely couldn’t depend on Adrian. That fool would’ve probably offered the bear a sandwich and asked if it wanted to play Uno.
And Isis? That girl would’ve gotten all of us killed trying to take a selfie with it for her story.
But knowing Bryce, sick or not, he still would’ve protected me…
probably with his last breath, a fever, and a busted rib. That was just who he was.
Possessive… overbearing… but mine, once.
And sometimes, when I looked at him too long, still a little bit mine in my head.
“Bryce?”
“I said I got it, Chesteria.”
“And I said I’m helping.”
He finally looked up, eyes narrowing like I was a stray dog that refused to be shooed off.
“You’re still hard-headed as ever, huh?”
I smirked. “And you’re still bossy as hell, huh?”
Bryce shook his head and chuckled under his breath, brushing the snow from his gloves.
“You do remember how sick you got the last time you insisted on being out in this kind of weather?”
I froze for a second, because yeah… I remembered.
Eighteen degrees… a crowded shed… and two naked fools trying to “try something new” just to prove a point.
We were sweating and moaning one minute, then shivering and sneezing the next. My immune system had packed its bags and left for a week straight.
“That was different. That involved less wood and more… friction.”
His jaw ticked, and I caught the tiniest shift in his eyes like the memory slapped him right across the face.
“Besides, we both got sick,” I reminded him with a laugh, nudging his arm. “And the way you’re dressed? You’ll definitely catch pneumonia before me.”
He chuckled low and sultry. “Yeah, I remember. But if I do get sick, you’ll be my nurse, though, right?”
“Unlicensed nurse,” I smirked. “I know a little, but whatever knowledge I lack, that’s where Google comes in handy. Every four hours, you can expect tea, soup, Vicks, and a whole lotta bossy instructions ‘til you’re back on your feet.”
His brow lifted, amused.
“I need you healthy, Captain Frost,” I added, dead serious.
“Because if something happens to you, I’m stuck in this cabin with Adrian and your little ice-sickle friend, Isis.
And after that bear situation, if we get any more uninvited guests, they both gon’ fold under pressure and leave me out here to get maulified.
Adrian damn near sacrificed me to the bear to save himself. ”
Bryce laughed under his breath. “Fold is generous.”
“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “So yeah... if I gotta play nurse to keep my personal security detail upright and breathing, I’ll do it. Self-preservation, baby.”
He shook his head, grinning, eyes warming. “So I’m basically a necessity now?”
“Absolutely,” I confessed, sweetly. “I need you for heat, protection, and decision-making. You’re the only other person in here who doesn’t cry, scream, or throw a Chanel slipper when the wind makes a weird sound.”
Bryce’s smirk widened. “Good to know where I rank.”
I looked up at him, serious for half a second. “Stay healthy, Bryce. I’m not trying to be snowed-in and unprotected.”
And the way he looked at me after that? Yeah... he wasn’t getting sick on my watch.
My eyes raked over his broad chest for a quick once-over. “You warm enough, though?”
“Warmer now,” he replied, his voice dipping into a low timbre that made the biting cold air feel suddenly irrelevant. “The cold don’t hit me like it hits most people. It sharpens me… keeps my focus clean. You know that.”
Bryce's eyes lingered a second longer than necessary, holding a world of unsaid things that made my heart race. His mouth was set in that same stubborn line I used to trace with my tongue.
I wonder how big his dick has gotten since we last had sex. How many times has he and Isis had sex? Has he ate her pussy? Her ass? Does he moan the same with her? Deep and rough, then soft and low when he’s close? Does he put her in those awkward, wild positions like he did me?
Whew. Okay… reel it in, girl.