That was a full week from now. I thought Jonas and I would be alone here for two to three days, max. My face must have given away some of my thoughts because Jonas winced. “Sorry. I just talked to Dad this morning. He has a work crisis, and my sister asked if he’d just travel with her family when they head up, so…” Jonas grinned, though it looked forced. “You’re stuck with your least-favorite Brooks. Sorry.”
“You’re not my least-favorite Brooks,” I said, baffled. “Why would you say that?”
“Come on. Don’t you remember how much I enraged you when we were teens? I messed with your stuff, wore your clothes—”
“Well, that’s not likely to happen now,” I muttered, only a little bit jealous of the chiseled body he was rocking. Mostly I preferred to ogle hard bodies while eating cookies and lounging on the sofa, rather than have one of my own. But in this case, I almost wished Jonas was a little less drool-inducing. It’d be easier to look him in the eye right now.
“Anyway, it’s not like Jess is your least-favorite. Or Dad. So that leaves me.”
“I never liked Jess much.”
The words were out before I could stop them. Jonas looked surprised. “Seriously?”
I shrugged. “She was too perfect.”
“God, she is,” Jonas said emphatically. “I always feel like I’m trying to live up to some impossible standard.”
“I don’t know, you’re doing pretty well too. Graduating this spring, right? Probably have a job waiting for you. Boyfriends lined up around the block.”
“Got me all figured out, huh?” Jonas said with a wry grin. “Well, you’re wrong about most of that. Yeah, I’m graduating, but I’m hanging on by a thread, to be honest. My grades are shit. I’ve got this make-or-break project I’ve started for my spring semester of my entrepreneurship course that terrifies me. And I don’t have crap lined up. Who knows? Maybe I’ll take this degree, if I manage to even get it, and hang it in my bedroom while I work as a used car salesman.”
Wow. He just blurted all that out. I was amazed by how easily he shared what he considered to be failings. Of course, his failings were more like challenges. At least he was still in school, still on the path to the future he expected. My life was topsy-turvy. I’d wandered too far from the path I’d set out on to ever find it again.
“Sorry,” Jonas said, flushing. “That was some word vomit.”
“It’s okay, I get it,” I said. “My life isn’t perfect either.”
“So, who’s your favorite Brooks family member then? Is it me?” He waggled his eyebrows. “It is, yeah? Fun, flirty, and all this too,” he said, gesturing to his body.
The gesture was somewhat ruined when his stomach growled loudly. I snorted a laugh as he glared down at it.
“There’s not much to eat,” I said apologetically. “Groceries are still in the car.”
He groaned. “Fuck. Any coffee?”
“No. In the car, along with bacon and eggs. What happens if the eggs are frozen, are they still good?”
“Nah, they probably cracked.” When I gave him a baffled look, he added, “The liquid inside expands when they freeze. And most likely, the texture would be all weird.”
I stared at him, shaking my head.
“What?”
“I forgot what a font of trivial wisdom you are.”
“Hey, it’s not trivial if it’s saving you from trying to eat funky eggs.”
“Fair point,” I conceded.
He sighed. “Guess I’ll save that workout for a trip down the mountain.”
7
JONAS
Quinn wasn’t happy when I rejected his offer to accompany me down the mountain, but it’d be hard enough traveling through fresh snow, avoiding drifts that might mire me, without a passenger to worry about. I packed a small shovel into my storage bag, just in case I had to dig myself out, and wore an old backpack for extra hauling. Quinn’s idea.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t come along?” he asked once more as I emerged from my bedroom fully dressed in jeans, heavy red-and-black-flannel shirt, and coat. “More hands.”
“Except your hands would be on me.”
“Uh, what?”
“Holding on,” I clarified, realizing that sounded more suggestive than I’d intended. “You can’t carry stuff for me and having both of us on the snowmobile will only make it more difficult to manage.”
I could tell he wanted to keep arguing, but he bit down on his lip—a habit that drew my attention to his lush mouth all too often. I pulled on my gloves and started toward the back door. “Don’t worry if I’m not back right away.”
He huffed. “No? What if you have an accident or get stuck out there?”
It was possible. Dad would kill me if he found out I was snowmobiling on my own after this kind of snowfall. The snowmobile was made to travel over hardpacked snow, not the new, fluffy stuff that had just fallen from the sky. But I knew the terrain. I was reasonably sure I could make the short trip to Quinn’s car safely. As to whether I’d get stuck…that was a real possibility. One I’d have to deal with.
I pulled out my phone. “Put in your number. You’ll be the first know if I’m delayed.”
He hesitated. “You’ll have service?”
“The skies are clear. Service is spotty in the woods, but I should be able to get a call through if I need to.”
“Unless you’re lying half-dead, clotheslined by a tree branch,” he muttered as he took my phone and tapped in his number.
“Better me than both of us,” I said.
His eyes met mine, and I could see the worry swirling in them. “What if you don’t call and you don’t come back?”
“I’ll be careful,” I assured him. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. It’s a short trip, right? The ride last night was more dangerous.”
I wasn’t lying, exactly. The visibility was bad last night. I could have easily killed us both. But there had been less new snow on the ground. It had snowed hard all night, dumping inches more since then. That was what concerned me now.
But my words reassured Quinn. “Fine, but you better be right. I’m going to be pissed if you hurt yourself out there.”
“Why, Quinn, you say such sweet things.”
QUINN
After Jonas left, I felt restless. I didn’t like that he’d gone out there on his own. I didn’t like that I’d gotten stuck in a stupid snowbank, stranding my vehicle and all the food I’d made the effort to buy, requiring him to go. And I especially didn’t like pacing this cabin, my phone burning a hole in my conscience, turned on now so that Jonas could call if needed and practically screaming, Call your mother, stop lying and stop hiding.
Jonas had rejected all my offers to go along, which settled like a rock of unease in my gut. His explanations had made sense, but I didn’t like the feeling of uselessness. How many times had Clay wanted me to sit home and let him take care of me? He complained endlessly when I was still in school about how rarely we saw one another, and when I’d finally dropped out—missing too many classes and struggling to keep up with a full course load, a job, and a relationship—he’d encouraged me to move in with him.