I still felt like a terrible son.
JONAS
I woke when a mangled jangling filtered through my consciousness. I was confused at first, blinking at the discordant melody, before I realized it was the ring of my phone mixed with…Christmas music? What the hell?
A shaft of sunlight cut through the room. It was clearly morning.
I was warm and cozy in Dad’s bed. I hadn’t exaggerated to Quinn much; it was worlds better than the nearly flat mattress I usually crashed on in the loft.
My phone rang again, the persistent fucker, and I reached for it with a huff of annoyance. I didn’t sleep in often. I tried to fit in a visit to the gym before classes most mornings. But after the long drive and all the stress of finding Quinn and then talking to him for the first time in years, I had exhausted my reserves.
Speak of the devil. Dad was calling.
“Hello?”
“Thank Christ,” he said when I answered. “I was worried after your call cut out. Tried to reach you all evening. Tried Quinn too.”
“Sorry,” I answered, still groggy. “Snowstorm was pretty bad; we had no service. Quinn was stranded, but I found him. He’s fine.”
“He was stranded? Oh, Jesus. His mother will never forgive me if something happens to him. He made me promise not to tell her he was visiting, and I knew that was a mistake. I should call her right now and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I interrupted that little spiral. “Calm down, Dad. He’s fine, okay? He’s in the cabin with me. Still has all his fingers and toes.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s an adult. If he doesn’t want his mom to know where he is every minute…”
Dad snorted. “An adult. He’s twenty years old. He’s a child, and so are you, and you’re both up there in a fucking blizzard.”
I rolled out of bed to check out the window. A thick blanket of snow covered the landscape, but the skies were clear. “The snow has stopped. We’re safe in the cabin. Nothing to worry about.”
“Well, I don’t know about all that. It’s a parent’s job to worry, and I’ve now got double the trouble with you both up there.”
“What trouble could we possibly get into?”
“Knowing you? A whole lot.”
I laughed. “So, when are you going to make it out here to keep me in check? Better not do it today. The roads are still pretty snow-packed.”
He chuckled. “About that…”
That didn’t sound like good news. “What?” I asked, wary.
“Something came up at work. I can’t make it out for a few days, at least. Your sister wants me to wait and just come up with them on Christmas Eve. How do you feel about that?”
“Oh, uh…” Me and Quinn, alone for a week. How would that go? We’d talked a little at dinner, both of us dancing around our awkward past, so I didn’t really know how well we’d get along over the coming days. We had the strangeness of knowing and not knowing each other, mixed with the memory of that kiss four years ago, along with all of Quinn’s resentment about ever being part of the Brooks family. But what could I say? Dad had just spent days traveling on a business trip. He could probably use the break. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” The sound of a heavy box hitting the floor startled me. What the fuck was Quinn doing? “Listen, I better go see about breakfast.”
“Hey, before you go…”
“Yeah?”
“Quinn isn’t like you, Jonas.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know what he’s really doing there. He said he had a job interview, but…why Grand Lake? Why look for a job there when he should be in school in Nebraska? He was very evasive about what’s really going on.”
Huh. That was not what Quinn had told me. He’d mentioned needing a place for winter break, and I’d just assumed he was on holiday from school. Of course, I’d sensed there was more to the story, but a job interview?
“Why’d you let him come up if he wasn’t being honest with you?”
“I’m worried about the kid. He was my son too. I want him safe and secure. Keep an eye on him, will you? At least if he’s there with you, I know he’s safe, and I can rest a little easier about not telling his mother his whereabouts.”
“Yeah, Dad. No problem.”
Another thud sounded as I disconnected. I grabbed a pair of athletic shorts and tugged them on before stepping out into the hallway. Time to navigate another encounter with Quinn—and possibly help him move furniture? Well, whatever. I needed to get in a workout.
QUINN
“What’s all this?”
Jonas’s voice suddenly interrupted “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” playing on the old record player in the corner, and I nearly tipped off the stepladder where I was precariously balanced to hang a string of lights. All around me, boxes littered the living room floor. I’d been dying to decorate the place for the holidays—with more than my sad, little three-foot plastic tree, anyway—but I’d been hesitant to dig through the Brookses’ belongings until now.
I caught myself against the wall, eyes still focused on the string of lights I was threading through hooks just over the window. “You did say I had free run of the place,” I said.
“Huh. This is all holiday junk?”
I turned to look at him. “It’s not junk, it’s—” Oh, my.
Jonas Brooks stood there shirtless, with a sculpted body the likes of which I’d never seen in real life. The Christmas music faded away and white noise filled my brain as I tried to process what I was seeing.
“It’s what?” he prompted.
I tried again. “It’s not junk, it’s…abs…abs—olutely not junk,” I floundered as my brain misfired. “It’s, um…”
“Decorations?” Jonas offered.
“Right! Yes. Decorations.” I shook my head, my eyes still fixed well below his face. Okay, this was ridiculous. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” I blurted. “Aren’t you cold?”
Jonas glanced down with a frown. “Sorry. I was about to work out, and I generally get overheated. Does it bother you?”
How to answer that question. Yes, it bothered me, but probably not in the way he thought. I was concerned I might begin to drool, or possibly drop to my hands and knees and crawl across the room to lick his stomach. Neither option was without embarrassment, though one would be far more satisfying than the other.
“No,” I lied. What else could I do? Admit that he was making me lightheaded with his beautiful body? “Don’t let me keep you from your workout. I’ve got this under control.”
Jonas arched an eyebrow as he surveyed the room. It looked a mess.
“I’ll clean up when I’m done,” I said defensively.
“You really don’t have to do all this. I mean, it’s just us here until Christmas Eve. And Dad and Jess can help dress the place up—”
“They’re not coming until Christmas Eve?”