Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Elle
MY FIRST SNOW DAY, AND I’d hardly noticed the damn snow.
Sure, it was delightfully pillowed around Austin’s house, staring me down through every window.
Like wool, it blanketed his yard, driveway, and every plant in view.
But not even eyes virgin to the frosted landscape could pull my attention from Austin Carterson.
The way he moved, moved me.
Our day was filled with close encounters as we shared his space.
Our tangled fingers and short-lived shoulder brushes left me wanting more.
He sat beside me and gripped my leg while we watched too many reruns of The Nanny to count, his callous hands scratching against the fabric of my leggings.
We didn’t kiss again, but our hours together were anything but wasted.
We swapped stories about our childhoods and hopes for the futures we envisioned.
Getting to know him felt intimate, almost more intimate than the two years’ worth of my time wasted on Jesse.
I would never have thought Austin had had it tough as a child. In his words, his grandparents’ unconditional love had shifted his trajectory. The way he spoke about them melted me. They sounded incredible. Genuine and selfless. I also finally found the balls to ask how old he was.
“Thirty-three years young,” he admitted.
I’d expected it. Perhaps his six years on Jesse were why he was galaxies more mature. Eight years of life separated my and Austin’s timelines, not nearly enough to deter me.
Hours flew by, yet my mind remained fixated on the man standing next to me at the sink.
Iridescent reflections of silver found us through the kitchen window as the moon replaced the sun, adding depth to Austin’s immaculate profile.
His angular jaw, Grecian nose, and thick lips, surrounded by just the right amount of weekend stubble, needed no help.
The light set his rugged features ablaze.
Is Austin the most attractive man I’ve ever seen? I thought, unable to recall when exactly my pull to him knotted this tightly.
I couldn’t avoid kissing him again much longer.
Conditions outside were worsening, but I didn’t care. I craved whatever our night would bring. And here it was, greeting us as we stood in his kitchen with stomachs full of lasagna and a sense of connection I never expected.
His grandmother’s recipe, which Austin had so graciously shared with me while we prepared dinner together, was one worth taking note of. The right level of al dente mixed with the ideal amount of ricotta—a mountain’s worth.
“Snow days are more exciting than I thought,” I admitted, placing our clean forks back into the silverware drawer. “There’s something very serene about them.”
I suspected any day spent with him would be enjoyable though.
“It’s the snow nights that really zap the life out of you. Cabin fever is real when you’re alone. Thankfully, I have you to keep me company,” he bantered, smiling while drying the last dish. After placing it on the drying rack, he set his dish towel down.
“Can’t be worse than the hurricane blues.”
Hurricanes were one of the only things I hated about Florida. Evacuations, wind damage, flooding—it all sucked. Being snowed in with him sucked far less.
Austin’s hips moved within inches of mine as he turned to face me. I placed a hand on his chest, shifting my weight from one foot to the other while holding on to the countertop behind me for balance.
Touching him made my knees act stupid.
“Can I make a request?”
“Let’s hear it,” he invited.
“Can we finally light the fireplace? It sounds … nice. I’ve never even been in a house that has one. I need the full experience!”
Fireplaces weren’t a thing in Florida.
Plus, it sounded hot. And not just because of the heat of the flames.
Austin’s body hardened, except for his eyes. They darkened faster than a fresh bruise. I could tell the fireplace made him uncomfortable, although I wasn’t sure why because it didn’t make sense with his love of wood splitting. Like a serpent, his tongue slid across his top teeth.
“Yeah, all right.” Something somber tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Is there something wrong with the fireplace? We don’t have to. I just … I don’t normally get the chance to …”
Austin’s response cut me off. “It’s fine. I love lighting it,” he sighed, clearly not loving it.
His right hand smoothed over the bedhead he’d sported all day, and his nostrils flared with unknown intention. I’d never fought so hard not to look at someone. Something I couldn’t pinpoint worried him.
“Is it cool if I shower first?” he continued. “I’ll be quick.”
It was his house, his fireplace, his life. He could do whatever he wanted without asking me. But how gentlemanly that he had.
He cared. He wanted me to know he’d be back.
“Yeah, of course it is. I’ll do the same.
I promise to come back this time.” My joke gathered no response, and I quickly turned to avoid whatever wall Austin’s hesitation was building between us.
I needed more of him before the snow on Haroldeen Lane thawed and reality found us again.
“Thirty minutes, same time, same place?” I looked back reassuringly.
Heat flooded my cheeks as images of what our night might hold flashed before me.
“I’ll be ready for you.” His sharp inhale surprised me. “I mean, it’ll be ready for you. The fireplace. Fuck … sorry.” He scrambled, tripping over the words I’d lick from his mouth if he let me.
I loved his slipup and the confidence boost it provided.
“Don’t be sorry. I’ll be ready for you too.” I chuckled, smirking softly at his verbal foreplay.
I might have hidden from us the night before, but I was done hiding.
I was done running from things that made me feel alive.