Chapter 8
NATHAN
It’s just as I suspected. Eli’s too fucking skinny.
I can practically cover his entire waist with one hand. He’s skinnier than any girl I’ve been with, and that concerns me.
Is he not taking proper care of himself at school?
I hope he isn’t just surviving off candy.
I know Eli is babied by his mom and sisters, being the baby of the family and all, but he’s been on his own for the past three and a half years at college.
How come most who go off to school gain the freshman fifteen, but it seems like Eli’s only lost weight instead?
I slide my fingers across his back and realize just how soft his skin is. Are all men’s skin this soft? I don’t think mine is, but Eli’s feels like velvet.
My pointer finger rubs against one of his back dimples, and Eli shivers in my arms. Looking at him, I notice his face is red. In fact, his entire body is flushed, probably from the chill that’s still in the air.
I got so lost in my own thoughts that I forgot the poor man is probably still freezing. He’s naked again, the blanket having fallen off when he rushed towards me. I should find some clothespins so that it might actually keep the blanket on him for once.
I don’t even think about it as I sit up and lift Eli in my arms.
“What the fuck?” he yells when he’s in the air. His arms wrap around me, probably on instinct, and his oh-so-familiar glare is back.
I don’t give him time to spout more curses at me—he’s probably cursed me enough to last a lifetime—before I’m laying him against the thick blankets again, then covering him with the gray one. I make sure he’s close enough to feel the warmth of the fireplace but not too close.
I think I read somewhere that it’s dangerous to warm up too quickly after being too cold. I’m no medic, but based on Eli’s flushed skin that’s still cool to the touch, he’s still much too cold for my liking.
“I’m not a sack of rice, you know?” Eli suddenly says.
“What?” I ask, thinking I heard wrong. The statement is too fucking random.
Eli glares my way. “I’m not a sack of rice,” he repeats. Now I’m worried that the dip in the cold lake messed with his brain too.
Just as I’m wondering if I need to find a way to get him to the hospital, Eli huffs. “I’m not a doll either. You can’t toss me around just because you can.”
“Are you jealous that I’m strong enough to carry you? You really don’t weigh that much, you know.”
He looks thoroughly offended by my statement.
“I shouldn’t even be surprised at how you’re able to insult me and boast about yourself at the same time,” he mutters.
I don’t bother trying to deny it. He probably won’t believe me anyway.
“Are you even eating at college? Don’t tell me you’re skipping meals or surviving solely on candy?” I ask.
“I eat well-proportioned meals,” he grits out. He’s back to being belligerent toward any show of concern I have for him. “I’m not some kid who can’t take care of himself.”
“I never said you were. Am I not allowed to worry about you?”
“Why would you? We don’t have a relationship of any kind, and you don’t even like me,” he accuses.
“Why do you keep thinking I hate you?”
He’s surprised by the question. His eyes go round, like a deer in headlights, but he quickly looks away and hugs the blanket tighter around himself.
“You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to be so nice,” he says, not looking at me. “I don’t care either way. You’re nothing to me.”
I sigh, knowing that anything I say is going to go in one ear and right out the other.
“Fine. Let’s just say I care because you’re my dad’s stepkid and I’d rather you didn’t lose a limb under my watch,” I grumble and turn away. I’m getting worked up now, and I don’t want to fight with Eli.
I’m not used to someone thinking about me in such a bad light. Like I told him earlier, I make mistakes too, but I worked hard to make myself likable. I know how to adapt to those I’m not familiar with—it’s a skill I learned from moving every year after my mom died.
So I can admit that it bothers me how badly Eli thinks of me. I may know where the root of all his resentment toward me started, but I have no way of fixing it.
I roam around the cabin to give us some space and to see if I can catch a signal on my phone. Eli and I alone together obviously isn’t a good idea, so it’s best to get out of here as soon as possible.
Luck isn’t on my side, and the towers don’t seem to be back online yet. They probably won’t get around to fixing the lines until the weather clears up. But I do find some working flashlights, so we won’t have to worry about light.
A strong gust of wind hits the side of the cabin and rattles the windows. It’s too dark to see outside now, but I’m sure the snow is piling up high.
I head back downstairs to check in on Eli. It’s been ten minutes, and I don’t want to leave him alone for too long in case he falls asleep. I don’t think he has hypothermia, but it’s better to keep him awake just in case.
“You alive?”
My question is met with his usual glare, which strangely comforts me at this moment. But that quickly turns into concern when I see that he’s sweating but still shivering. He’s stiller than I’ve ever seen him, and that’s making me worried sick.
“Are you hot?” I ask and try to feel his forehead. I touch him long enough to feel that he’s clammy before he’s shoving my hand away again.
“I’m fine,” he grumbles, but the way he’s practically vibrating doesn’t instill much confidence. “I’m just a little cold.”
“A little?” I repeat. He’s shaking like a leaf and still downplaying it. “Will it kill you to admit to me that you’re not okay?”
“It might,” he grumbles.
I don’t know whether I should be impressed or irritated by his stubbornness. But I’ll play the bigger person since he’s obviously not in his right mind at the moment.
Grabbing another hand towel from the kitchen, I return to Eli’s side and wipe the sweat from his face. He’s decisively not looking my way, but he doesn’t fight me either, which means he’s probably doing worse than he’s letting on.
I sneakily touch his cheeks and frown at how cool they are. He’s sitting by the fire and wrapped up in thick blankets, so why isn’t he warming up? The sweat cooling on his skin probably isn’t helping either. At least his hair is mostly dry now.
The blanket slips from his shoulder enough for me to see that his neck and chest are also covered in sweat. I forcefully tug the thick blanket from him. He struggles, but I use my strength to my advantage and strip him.
“What the hell, jackass?!” Eli grumbles and tries to cover himself with his arms.
I’m too focused on how he’s drenched in sweat yet still fucking cold to the touch. I’m trying to push down the panic that’s quickly rising as I wipe him down despite his refusal.
Why is he still so cold? What if I can’t warm him up? Do I need to get him to the hospital?
I’m completely out of my element here. I have no clue what the fuck I’m supposed to do, and I can’t even go online to find answers.
The only thing I know is that he can’t stay like this. I need to do something to warm him up. The first thought that comes to mind is reading somewhere that the best way to transfer heat is skin-to-skin.
I don’t think as I spring into action.
“What the fuck? Why are you undressing?” Eli practically shouts the question as he glares up at me from his seated position. I’m not in my right mind to answer his question. I’m too busy kicking off my pants.
Eli’s cheeks flush a deeper red as I pull my briefs down. I’m thinking his situation is getting worse by the second. My priority is his health, so it doesn’t really click in my brain until Eli’s gaze roams down my naked chest and lands right on my dick.
If I thought his eyes were round before, it’s nothing compared to the owl stare he’s giving my dick now. If I weren’t confident about my manhood, his reaction would have made me think something’s wrong with it.
“Why—um, why are you naked?” Eli asks again.
Is it me or does his breath sound more breathless? Now’s not really the time to think about unimportant things like that.
“You need to be warmed up,” I reply.
“But why does that mean you have to be naked?”
There isn’t time to bicker with him about this. He’s obviously freezing and turning pinker by the second. I go around him.
“W-what are you doing?” Eli asks, his eyes tracking me. I see concern, and I wonder if he’s also worried about his inability to regulate his temperature. There really is no time to waste.
“Need to warm you up, and the best way to do that is skin-to-skin,” I say as I sit down behind him and remove the blanket separating us.
My legs are open so that he can sit in the space between them as I scoot up to his back, pull him against my chest, and re-cover us.
I lean my body against the spare blanket and pull Eli back with me.
“Fuck, you’re so frozen stiff,” I comment and rub my hands over his cold arms to generate warmth. He’s like an ice block against me.
Eli doesn’t say anything, which is fine. I can’t worry too much about his reaction when the most important thing right now is making sure he gets back to his regular body temperature.
“Do you feel warmer?” I ask when I finally feel some heat against his arms. His back feels slightly less cool against my chest, too.
I’m happy that my plan is working. Even if Eli’s still as stiff as a board, at least warmth is finally returning to him.
My hand slides off his arm and lands on his stomach. The skin there is surprisingly soft and squishy—not that I’m saying everyone needs to have rock-hard abs—but Eli is so skinny I didn’t expect hugging him to feel so comfortable. I never thought hugging a man could feel this good.
I lay my palm on his stomach to rub some heat into him, and that seems to have to trigger Eli.
“Fuck,” I groan when he elbows me in the stomach.
“What the fuck, Nathan? Get off me!” he yells and tries to push me away. His flailing doesn’t work, though, and I keep him wrapped up in my arms.