Chapter 2
TWO
ETHAN
My cabin is exactly as I left it this morning when I carry in the stranger and deposit him gently on the couch.
The living room is slightly messier than I would like it to be but that is the least of my concerns right now.
Thankfully, he doesn’t look worse than when I found him, still pale and clutching the blanket around him like a lifeline, but shivering slightly less. His eyes meet mine from the couch and he looks so small like this.
It makes my hands twitch with the need to do something, my body itching to spring into action.
“I’m going to get you something to change into, okay? You need to get out of those soaked clothes,” I tell him, nodding at him in reassurance. But when I turn to head to the bedroom, I double back.
Fuck, I haven’t even told him my name. Just picked him up and brought him to my secluded cabin in the woods. Way to not come across as a serial killer.
“I’m Ethan, by the way,” I blurt out sheepishly, but he just blinks at me. “I’ll be right back.”
Rummaging in my closet for something he can wear, I give up after a few minutes of realizing nothing will fit him since I’m much bigger than him. Grabbing some sweats and a hoody, I resign to the fact that he’ll just have to swim in them. At least, they’ll be warm.
With one last stop to the bathroom to grab a clean towel, I return to the living room, where I find him exactly where I left him.
His green eyes are swiping the place curiously, before they land on me and to the stuff I’m holding.
“I brought you some of my clothes, even though they might be too big on you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “And a towel for you to dry your hair for now. You can also use the shower later if you feel better.”
I leave the clothes in his lap and attempt an encouraging smile.
His eyes flick down to the clothes and up to me, open and piercing.
“I’ll give you some privacy to change while I make you something hot to drink. Holler if you need anything.”
But as I start turning towards the kitchen, a tug on my sleeve stops me in my tracks.
My gaze meets the jewel-green eyes of the young stranger, ready to ask him if something is wrong.
The words halt in my throat when he aims at me one of the softest smiles I’ve ever seen.
“Thank you, Ethan,” he rasps in a low, tired voice.
I think I stare at him like an idiot for a couple of seconds before I nod and turn for the kitchen. I take off my waterproof jacket on autopilot and leave it on a chair to deal with it later, along with my boots.
I should be cringing at all the mud I probably dragged in or the fact that I could use some towel-drying myself, but I don’t. In fact, I could care less. Instead, my mind replays those low-spoken words of gratitude as I go through the motions in the kitchen.
My senses feel weirdly sharp and focused on picking up the slightest noise of distress from the living room, but my brain feels oddly muddled. It’s only the click of the electric kettle signaling that the hot water for the tea is ready that brings me back to my current surroundings.
Fuck, I must be more tired than I thought.
I rub my eyes in an attempt to shake off my weariness, and start on preparing a small sandwich for the stranger currently changing in my living room.
Is he okay in there? I know he said he’s not hurt but maybe he is and it just hasn’t hit yet because of the shock and the adrenaline.
Damn, I hope not, because there’s only so much I can do and no way an actual doctor can get here with the way the roads are about to get if there’s anything seriously wrong with him.
I glance towards the general direction of the living room, worry sitting heavy in my gut.
Will he have trouble moving about and changing? He couldn’t even stand on his own earlier.
I try to stall as much as possible to give him time, which only gives my mind time to mull the whole incident over.
How did he find himself in that ravine?
Did he hike all the way there and somehow got lost?
He looked so scared, which makes perfect sense considering the circumstances.
I wonder what his name is.
I shake my head in an attempt to clear it from all the questions I have, and when I think enough time has passed, I make my way to the living room with the tea and a sandwich, making sure he hears me approaching.
And he’s changed, alright—swallowed up in my hoody, sweats so long he would definitely trip and fall if he stood up, drying his hair with the towel I gave him.
He looks up when I round the couch, his expression tender and trusting.
Trusting. He looks like he trusts me and the thought fills me with a warmth I can’t explain.
“Were the clothes okay?” I ask him while I place the hot mug and the plate on the coffee table.
He nods. “They’re perfect,” he says in a quiet voice, and my chest puffs up with satisfaction. He glances hesitantly towards the pile of wet clothes and shoes by the couch and looks up with a faint blush in his cheeks. “I’m sorry for your floor. I didn’t know what to do with them.”
Fuck my floor.
The thought echoes like a growl in my head and I blink at the instinctive reaction.
“Don’t worry about it,” I smile at him, pleased to hear him talk to me more, to see him less pale than he was when I brought him here.
The heating is on full blast, but I might as well start a fire.
It will make him more comfortable. “Those are for you,” I tell him gesturing towards the food and tea while I grab a couple of logs to throw into the fireplace.
“You need to eat something and warm up.”
At first, I don’t hear any movements from behind me as I work on the pit.
But then, the tell-tale sound of someone blowing on a steamy liquid reaches me, followed by a sip and such a deep sigh that it takes everything in me not to peek over my shoulder.
Fire burning strong, I glance at the stranger with his curling, dark brown hair, slightly-half-lidded eyes, and—I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from chuckling—empty plate in front of him.
“Good?” I ask, nodding at the plate while I sit on the couch, as far from him as I can.
He smiles, and for a moment the fire casts shadows on his face, the light from the bright flames showcasing the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the smattering of pale freckles on his nose.
I rub my chest, suddenly feeling it tight.
“Very good,” he mutters, his chest rising as he inhales slowly and deeply. As if still savoring the thought of the hot drink and food.
“What’s your name?” The question slips out so suddenly, almost as if dragged out of me of its own volition.
His green eyes momentarily widen, before his lips tip up.
“Oliver.”
Oliver. Yes, it suits him perfectly.
“Are you feeling a little better now, Oliver?” I can’t resist repeating his name, letting it roll off my tongue.
Jesus. What the fuck is the matter with me?
“Yes, a lot better, thank you.” His voice is still a bit hoarse, but better after the hot tea.
“Is there anyone you need me to call for you? Your family or a friend maybe.”
The smile slips off his lips and he shakes his head almost violently.
“No, there’s no one. Don’t call anyone. Please,” he says, the last word a broken plea.
“Alright, alright,” I rush to reassure him, my hand almost reaching for him to—
To what? To soothe him? To calm him down? To take away that slash of fear in his eyes?
“I won’t call anyone, I promise.”
Oliver nods at me, as he wraps his arms around himself, the fingers almost white-knuckling the fabric of the hoody.
The sight makes something squeeze in my gut, my own hands balling into fists on my legs.
“Can you tell me what happened to you, why you were where I found you?”
He chews on his bottom lip, apprehension wafting off him in waves.
“I was hiking and the rain caught me off-guard,” he starts, his eyes downcast on his lap.
“I thought I knew where I was going but I didn’t and I got lost.” I see him swallow hard, eyes still looking down, hands still clinging tightly to the hoody.
“I started feeling dizzy and I slipped, tumbling further down to that small ravine. I even lost my backpack somewhere when I fell.” He lifts his gaze, piercing me with his intense, green eyes. “That’s when you found me.”
And thank fucking Christ for that.
There is a faint tremble in his voice, the fear still lingering at the edge of his words, and I shudder at the thought of what could have happened to him if I hadn’t come across him when I did.
“Are you hurt anywhere? If you fell from the top of the road, you might need to be checked over.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not in pain anywhere. I just hurt my right arm and leg a bit when I tried to break my fall.”
His voice grows a bit stronger as he keeps talking. Still soft but surer.
“I can check them out for you if you’d like. I have first-aid training, it’s a job requirement.”
His eyes sparkle with curiosity. “What job is that?”
“I’m a forest ranger,” I reply, feeding off the interest I see in his expression. “Medical emergencies are not as uncommon as one would think for us.”
The shadows cast by the fire dance on Oliver’s pale skin and for a moment I think he’ll refuse my offer to help.
I probably do a very bad job at masking my surprise when I watch him release the tight clasp he has on the hoody and move closer to where I’m sitting, extending his right arm towards me.
Taking it gently, I pull up the sleeve up to his elbow. I frown at the scratches, the light bruising and the redness of his skin that span the whole underside of his forearm.
Nothing dangerous, but it should definitely be cleaned and bandaged just to be sure.
From this close, I can smell the rainwater on him, his scent buried under the strong smell of petrichor, a hint of something unidentifiable barely making it through—something light and sweet.
“I’ll take care of it for you,” I tell him, my voice strangely deep. Our eyes meet in the middle and I realize I’m still holding his arm. Clearing my throat, I set it down carefully. “I’ll go grab the first-aid kit and we’ll fix both your arm and your leg, okay?”
Oliver watches me as I stand up and a heart-stopping smile blooms on his face.
“Thank you.”
I can see how exhausted he is in his tired smile, but the way his eyes shine makes him fucking beautiful—all dark curls, rosy cheeks, and soft features.
I have no idea what I mumble back as I all but run to the bathroom cabinet.
Probably not what I’m beginning to realize.
That I’m deeply fucked.