DEAN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Is Nick out of his mind? It’s barely above freezing, and we’re being sheltered by trees. There’s only one lake in town, it’s on the other side of the woods, and I know for a fact it’s windy as hell there.
I gesture at his scant clothes while shivering. “You’re gonna freeze to death.”
Maybe I’ll freeze to death. Maybe we’ll have to go skin to skin and—
No! Nope, no, absolutely the fuck not. Begone, intrusive thought.
His eyes widen with excitement. “Yeah, but we can, like, build a fire. It’ll be fun.”
I don’t know if it’s intentional, but he bats his eyelashes at me, and all opposition flies out of my brain. Cute guys definitely slow my brain down.
“I mean, random shit like this is what college is about,” I reply. “Let’s make the most of it.”
Him launching me into a side hug of his own and dragging me down the sidewalk all but seals the deal.
We turn off into the woods, trudging along the trail with a chilly wind biting at my cheeks and making me grimace.
Why I chose to move to a damn refrigerator of a place is beyond me, but this time next year, I’ll be somewhere that’ll feel like summer.
Another gust of cold air blasts us when we leave the woods and get to the beach, and Nick ruffles my hair when he spots my unamused expression.
If he keeps it up, I’m never gonna get over this crush.
Even if he does, I don’t know if I can go back to the way things were, considering I always had a thing for him.
I’m not sure what there is for me to go back to, short of cutting him out of my life entirely, which isn’t something I want to do. Not at all.
“So, this is probably a shit time to be asking this, but do you have a lighter?” Nick avoids eye contact, choosing instead to gather a piece of damp driftwood in his search for flammable material.
I chuckle. “You’re in luck, man.” I pull Claire’s lighter out of my pocket. “My friend asked me to confiscate her lighter so she doesn’t smoke tonight, not that that has ever stopped her. Let’s burn some shit and warm up.”
A fruitless search for kindling ensues, with both of us returning empty-handed, save for a few twigs I found drying on a rock.
“We’re never building a fire, are we?”
“Hey.” Nick jabs his fingers into my chest, which does nothing to stop my rising heart rate. “Not with that attitude. No quitting until we quit.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Doesn’t have to. Now help me find some fuel.”
It rained overnight, and everything here is wet. “Give me some pointers,” I say, hoping he can come up with an idea I haven’t thought of.
“I don’t know… Look for something dry. Press on it, and it should be hard.”
Smirking, I raise an eyebrow. “Hmm. Really hard wood. I’ll try to find some.”
“Want me to take my shirt off? I think that’ll help us find some long, hard wood.”
“Don’t.” I chuckle. “You’re gonna freeze to death, and I’m not gonna pop a woody just so we can light it on fire.”
“Alright, suit yourself, man. Maybe try to light the twigs on fire so it’s ready for when I get some wood.”
I get to it, clicking the lighter and attempting to light the not-so-dry kindling. When that doesn’t work, I grab a packet of tissues from my pocket and stuff them under the twig pyramid I made, and while the dry paper catches easily, it doesn’t last.
So I sacrifice my entire packet, as well as a random drugstore receipt, right as Nick returns with a handful of small logs.
“Any luck?” he asks when a single twig finally catches.
“Not really. Come and help.”
He scoffs. “Aww, you’re so useless. It’s cute.”
I glower at him. “Shut the fuck up before I shove a piece of wood into your big mouth, and not in the fun way.”
“Ooh, feisty,” he mocks, stepping back and sticking his hands up. “Here, let me try.”
I chuckle as Nick pushes me aside and grabs the lighter out of my hands, shielding the makeshift firepit with his body and clicking the sparker at the top, muttering under his breath.
He blows, slowly at first before speeding up, and in the cold darkness, the dim orange light gives way to a flickering glow.
We fucking did it. Holy shit.
Desperately, I ease one of the smaller logs into the barely there fire, avoiding the plume of smoke blowing at my face. I hold my breath, lest it extinguishes all of our collective effort.
After a while, Nick stops clicking at the lighter, and he looks at me with his head tilted and a sneaky expression plastered across his face. “Is this lighter, like, expensive or sentimental?”
“No. Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”
“You don’t. Just stand back and watch my genius.
” He grabs a rock and places the lighter top down on another, larger rock, raising his hand and smashing the corner.
With shaky, tentative hands, he turns back to the fire and dumps the lighter fluid onto the kindling, forming an impressive fireball that almost singes his thick eyebrows off.
I cock my head. “Is that gonna work?”
It does—the fire tears through the rest of the kindling and catches on the log, making Nick jump up and woot loudly. He runs over to shake me excitedly by the shoulders and grab another log, easing it into the makeshift firepit, which is now emitting a steady glow.
“We did it!” he yells, sticking his hands out toward the heat.
I do the same, basking in the scant but present warmth, and enjoying how my hands are slowly regaining a tiny bit of feeling.
Enough feeling to detect a fucking raindrop.
I swivel my head to the side, meeting Nick’s terse expression.
“If we ignore it, it won’t happen,” he says.
“If it’s gonna ra—”
“Don’t say it!” He covers my mouth with his palm and snickers, and I try to ignore how amazing it feels being manhandled, even if it’s basic, friendly, and supposed to be innocent.
Another drop lands on my head, followed by several more, and I can’t complain at Nick. I simply glower helplessly at him as he tries to shelter the sputtering flames with his body.
It’s a futile move—the skies open up and unleash their contents onto the beach, drenching us and our hard-earned fire.
We both scream curses as we make a break for the woods, running through the trees and whatever leaves are left on them at this time of year.
The distance between the edge of the trees and my place isn’t far, and with how quickly we’re sprinting, we make it back in record time.
We trudge up the stairs to my apartment, not saying a word.
Nick’s the one to break the silence. “Sheesh, what a bust.”
“It’s fine. This random shit is what college is all about, right?” I offer a smile, hoping the mood lifts.
I’m not entirely successful.
“Here, I’ll lend you some clothes and you can grab a shower,” I continue, stripping my soaked sweater off. “There’s a towel under the—”
Nick’s staring at me and biting his lip. A little too hard to be genuine. “Yo. Nice abs, man,” he says, stepping over and palming my stomach. “Wanna save some water with me?”
My lower half is soaked and cold as hell, but my hyperactive dick still hardens at his touch. For someone who spent upward of an hour outside and ran through the rain, he’s way too warm.
I shove Nick’s teasing hands away, trying not to focus on how thick his calluses are, and how much I want to keep feeling those on my skin.
Call me weird, but calluses are sexy.
“Don’t go there,” I scoff. “I know this is bro banter, but…” I suck in a breath, shutting my eyes and deciding that one isolated, embarrassing moment of vulnerability is in order.
“If you couldn’t tell, I think you’re really hot, so if we’re gonna go back to being friends, I’m gonna need you to cool it on the sex jokes. ”
His face falls. “Right, yeah. Sorry. I just, uh, do this kind of stuff with all of my friends.”
“I get it. But are your other friends into you?”
Nick wrinkles his nose. “They’re great, but I think they’d rather fuck a cactus.”
Snorting, I turn away to fetch the clothes I promised him. “I thought so.”
Neither of us say much between Nick taking a shower and then letting me take my turn, but when I emerge, the rain outside has only gotten stronger.
That, and it’s pushing midnight. Midnight isn’t super late, but Nick and I are both yawning already.
“You happen to have a spare raincoat?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“I could get soaked again and then take another shower?”
Scoffing, I backhand his chest. “I’m not gonna throw you out into the rain like an asshole. You can crash on the couch…”
Said couch makes an ominous creak as Nick sinks down onto it, almost like it’s timed.
“No offense, man, but this thing is gonna collapse overnight, and then I’m gonna wake up on the floor,” he replies. “I’ll leave.”
“Again, it’s pouring.”
Then the two of us fall back into silence. Nick’s looking off to the side, and when I trace his line of sight, I end up staring at my bed.
I suck in a breath. We’re guys. He isn’t attracted to me, yet or ever. We’ll survive a night if we—
“—share the bed?” I suggest. “I can make a line down the middle with a blanket if you’d be more comfortable like that.”
He huffs, and with how weak it is, part of me wants to dig deeper and ask why. “Hey, I’m not scared of you or anything. I’m fine with it if you are.”
“Okay. I can lend you some more comfortable pants.” I toss him my largest sweatpants to replace the jeans I gave him, and he catches them, tugging at his waistband before freezing and shuffling to the bathroom.
Shaking my head, I stand by my window and wait for Nick to finish changing, and once he’s done, I grab a drink of water. Alcohol wouldn’t do anything to tamp down the latent attraction I have, and I really need to figure out a way to do so, and fast.
Maybe I need to reconsider my assessment of whether I’ll survive a night sharing a bed with someone who’s downright irresistible.
Who’s wearing my clothes and looking damn cute in them.
Who I’ve already made out with once, and whose tongue I’ll never stop associating with the taste of shitty beer.
I head back into the bedroom. Nick isn’t attracted to me. He said so himself, and that might be all I need to get over—
“Aww, aren’t you coming to join me?” he coos. “I’m soooo cold. Come and warm me up, hot stuff.”
Jesus. Him stretching his buff arms up and resting his head on his hands isn’t helping. The sleeves of my borrowed shirt ride up, giving me the best view I’ve had yet of his hot, sport-trained body.
Even though I know he’s joking, my stupid brain goes right to a tempting visual of naked cuddling with Nick and warming him up everywhere.
He slaps his forehead. “Shit, sorry. No sex jokes.”
I roll my eyes at his annoying, handsome face. “Hey, we’re still friends. You don’t have to clam up or anything. Just don’t touch me, and I’ll be fine.”
“Gotcha.”
He starts constructing a blanket wall, and I settle into the bed next to him, trying not to breathe, lest his goddamned smell horn me up even more.
He used a few sprays of my deodorant, but he has some kind of debilitating, manly musk that permeates the air, breaches the blanket wall, and digs into my brain.
Groaning internally, I roll over and get comfortable, deriving unearned comfort in the heat emanating from behind me.
Hey, there’s a silver lining: I can’t break my no-repeats rule if I don’t hook up with Nick in the first place.