Chapter 19 Wrenley
Wrenley
My eyes are open.
I’m stunned, and I can’t help but stare at the man kissing me in an elevator like he’s forgotten every reason we shouldn’t.
The kiss on the glacier had come with an excuse.
We were supposed to do it. We had an audience, and a camera, and a potential Christmas card.
No matter how much I’d felt during it, there had always been a safety net underneath.
A reason to dismiss the way my pulse raced whenever I thought about it after.
But right now, no one is watching us. No one cares if we look like a legitimate couple or just two people who happened to be riding the elevator at the same time. So there is no reason for this handsome man to kiss me.
But God, I don’t want him to stop.
He drags his teeth along my bottom lip, nipping just enough to make it feel like an invitation.
I finally close my eyes, letting the shock melt into something deeper. His free hand curves around the back of my neck, warm and possessive. I let out a soft sigh as my lips part for him.
That’s all he needs.
He takes the opportunity to let his tongue sweep into my mouth. The elevator ride is short, and he doesn’t want to waste a second.
I should be sorting through this. Figuring out what it means and where it leaves us. But I can’t think when all I feel is how firm he is—everywhere. And knowing that my kiss is doing that to him only makes every rational thought disappear.
I know this isn’t supposed to feel good or right, but it does. And right now, all I want is another second. Another minute. Another chance to stand here in his arms and pretend the rest of the world can wait.
I—
Ding!
The elevator chimes, the sound slicing through the moment like a cup of ice water to the face. We spring apart, both breathing harder than we should be, and I stare at the elevator doors as they slide open, trying to remember how to think with my brain and not other, lower regions of my body.
Ruger straightens his coat like that will somehow make any of this normal before he steps into the hallway, holding his arm out to keep the door from closing until I follow. We fall into step together, that same too-loud silence from the drive back creeping up again.
We stop outside my room, but I don’t reach for my door. The hallway is quiet, the patterned carpet stretching in both directions, and for a second, it feels like we’re standing in the strange space between what happened in that elevator and whatever comes next.
Thank you for today, I say softly. I really liked it.
His gaze holds mine. Me too.
All of it. The words come out before I can overthink them. I need him to know that I don’t regret any of it. That if given the chance, I’d kiss him again.
His mouth lifts into a small smile. Me too.
Relief unfurls inside me, warm and fluttering.
He leans forward and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. It’s completely different from the desperate intensity of the one we’d shared a few minutes ago. And that almost makes it worse because there’s something unbearably tender about it. Something that settles deeper than desire ever could.
Good night, he whispers.
My heart squeezes. Good night.
I watch him walk away before finally slipping into my room, pressing the door shut behind me.
Inside, Remi is typing furiously at her computer. As I watch her, my mind starts rotating through two thoughts.
I kissed your brother and—
I can’t tell you I kissed your brother.
I hover near the door, my mouth open as I try to think what to say.
Telling Remi would turn the kiss from toe-curling fun into questions I don’t have answers to.
I have no clue what that kiss meant. For all I know, it was nothing more than weeks of pretending finally bleeding into something Ruger never intended, and I’m reading way too much into it.
I can’t give Remi a version of the story when Ruger and I haven’t talked about it because there is no denying that it has the power to change the trajectory of this whole arrangement—a change I’m not sure I’m ready to think about.
Remi’s eyes flick up to meet mine when I open the door, and she smiles.
Still writing? I whisper.
She shrugs. Yeah. Well, kind of. You’re not interrupting anything. How was the day?
Good. I peel off my jacket. I met Peter.
Remi raises an eyebrow. He’s still alive?
And flying helicopters.
She lets out a laugh. That man was ancient when I was a kid. Of course, he did graduate with my dad, but I always thought he was ancient too.
I chuckle.
Did you see his reindeer?
Yeah. They’re adorable.
Well, I’m glad you had a good day, she says, stretching.
Me too. Your writing go well?
Finally caught up. Oh! Her whole face lights up. I got a really cool call today I have to tell you about. How about I go downstairs, grab us two glasses of wine, and then I’ll come back up, and we can gossip about our days?
Excellent, I say.
Remi lets out a little squeal, then walks out of the room. As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, I exhale.
I press my fingers to my lips, and the reality of what happened finally begins to settle around me.
I kissed Remi’s brother. The thought should probably send me spiralling for a dozen different reasons, but somehow, that’s not the part that keeps catching in my chest. What feels bigger is that this whole time, this arrangement has never been about just me and Ruger.
It’s always been about the three of us working together to help my career, and every step has felt like something together.
But there’s no denying that something changed in the elevator.
I fall backward onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling.
If this were just attraction, it would be so much easier. Attraction fades. Attraction can be ignored. Attraction doesn’t make you rethink entire life plans after one afternoon. But I’m also ignoring the bigger problem. I enjoyed spending time with him long before he kissed me.
And what the hell was that comment about how I could see myself in Alaska? And why do I actually feel that way?
A groan escapes me.
I don’t think it’s simply Alaska. I think it’s him.
And lying here in the reality of what happened is only making my head spin.
This arrangement has always been complicated.
Now, it’s complicated in an entirely different way.
Because feelings have a way of changing things. The question is what happens next.
I’ve got it, Ruger says, gently taking the handle of my suitcase. He pushes it down and lifts it easily up the stairs.
I sigh and step into the living room, the weight of the past few days settling on me.
In so many ways, the trip was a success.
We got stuff for the wedding and escaped the prying eyes of Alpine Harbor.
Though the escape brought new problems. Remi landed her dream actor for her book adaptation, Rhett Donovan.
I didn’t know who he was, so I stayed up far too late watching Chasing June, a romance about a woman named—surprise, surprise—June.
They have a one-night stand, and then she promptly disappears across the country for a job opportunity or something.
According to Remi, it’s one of the greatest romance movies ever made.
Personally, I spend most of it distracted by the fact that June moved across the country with a single carry-on suitcase and somehow maintained the wardrobe of a woman who had at least fourteen coats in her massive walk-in closet and never wore the same pair of shoes.
Or maybe the worst part of the movie is that I could see the parallels between it and my own life.
Except in the end, June had the benefit of being in a romance movie, which means she was always destined for a happily ever after.
Meanwhile, I’m left wondering what is happening between Ruger and me.
Not knowing is awful, and I wish I had a script to tell me how this all ends.
Footsteps echo on the stairs, and I turn to see Ruger coming down. He looks unfairly handsome in his camo Henley and black hiking pants.
You okay? he asks, concern softening his voice. You look loopy.
Just tired. I smile weakly. It was a long trip.
He smiles, and my stomach immediately flips. He takes a step closer, and I wonder if he’s going to reach out and touch me.
Instead, he asks, But a good one, right?
Very good, I say.
Silence falls over us. A few days ago, this wouldn’t have felt strange. We would have just gone and done our own thing. Now, neither of us seems entirely sure what normal is.
Ruger’s gaze drops briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. Heat rushes through me so fast it almost makes me dizzy. For a second, we don’t move or speak. We just stand there looking at each other, and I know exactly what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it too.
Then he slowly reaches for me, like he’s giving me a chance to stop him.
A chance to tell him everything that happened between us was a mistake and I want things to go back to the way they were.
But I don’t. Not even a little. My pulse trips over itself as he takes a step closer, and every nerve ending in my body seems to wake up in anticipation.
Then a sharp knock sounds at the door.
Ruger groans under his breath. He opens the door. Walter?
I peek around the archway to see the older man standing on the stoop, looking flustered.
I’m so glad you’re back, Walter says, his voice rushed. There’s a tourist couple up on Elk Pass who are stuck. It rained a lot while you were gone, and—
Turned that whole road to a mud pit, Ruger says with a shake of his head. Where’s Glen?
He tried to help, but the winch on the police truck broke. I know you’ve got a good one on your truck.
Ruger nods and reaches for his coat. I’m coming.
Walter looks so thankful, then looks into the house at me. Sorry, Wren.
I wave a dismissive hand. Nothing to apologize for.
Ruger looks at me from the door. I’ll be back as soon as I can, he says.
I nod. Be safe.
Then he’s gone, and the house is far too quiet, and the silence leaves room for all the questions I don’t have answers to.
Questions about Ruger. About what happens when feelings start getting tangled up in plans that were never supposed to include them.
And while I can picture a life in Alaska, I can also picture the career I came here chasing.
The opportunities that don’t exist in a town where the population barely fills my old high school gymnasium.
I don’t know how to reconcile those two futures because every time I imagine one, it feels like I’m giving up the other.
For the first time since arriving in Alaska, I don’t think my biggest obstacle is immigration. It’s deciding what I actually want.