I was tempted to hide up here to avoid the talk Jonas wanted to have, but if we were going to be alone here until Christmas Eve, I needed to find a way to make peace with his presence in my life.
“There’s really no reason to talk,” I said as I came back down the stairs to find Jonas pulling the cinnamon rolls from the oven. “I’m sorry if I sounded rude before. I just…want to be independent, that’s all. I feel a little caged, knowing I can’t go anywhere.”
Jonas arranged the cinnamon rolls on a plate and set it on the kitchen bar. “You’re free to drive the Jeep once it’s dug out. I’d feel better if I drove because I know how to drive on snowy mountain roads.”
“And I don’t?”
He paused, but he didn’t have to say anything. I suddenly remembered my track record wasn’t the best.
“Never mind,” I grumbled. “Obviously, I ran into a little trouble with the Durango.”
“Yes.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “You’d really let me drive somewhere? If I insisted.”
“Yeah.” He hesitated. “But I’d like us to be honest with each other.”
My heart skipped. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you really here, Quinn?”
“I’m here for winter break, same as you.”
“Really? Because you told my dad you had a job interview in Grand Lake. That doesn’t seem like a winter break activity.”
Shoot. I’d had to tell Ken the truth. Besides it being the right thing to do, I’d headed up to the cabin before classes let out, and I might be staying well beyond the holidays. I should have expected he would talk to Jonas, but I really didn’t want to go into my sordid history right now. Not when I was already feeling on edge.
“Okay, yeah, I’m interviewing at Snowhaven Resort while I’m here, but it’s also my winter break.” I was hedging and hoping Jonas would let it go. But, of course, he didn’t.
“What about school?” Jonas asked. “If you get a job here…”
My cinnamon roll became fascinating as I peeled the outer layer away from the gooey center. It was a pretty decent metaphor for what was happening in this room, except my center wasn’t gooey; it was burnt.
“There is no more school,” I murmured without looking at him. “I need a fresh start, and your dad has the cabin. Coming here gives me time to figure shit out.”
Jonas’s voice went quiet and gentle, softer than I’d ever heard it. “What happened, Quinn?”
I shook my head. My eyes burned, and I closed them against the sting. I would not strip myself bare. I couldn’t. I’d end up a sobbing wreck, and I refused to be that vulnerable ever again.
Once I’d locked down my emotions, I looked up at Jonas. I was probably glaring, but it was better than crying. “I can’t talk about that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Right now, it’s the same thing. If you won’t let me drive the Jeep, I’ll call my rental agency and have them bring me another car or something. I can’t just—”
“Whoa, easy,” Jonas interrupted. “You can drive the Jeep. I’ll leave the keys on the hook by the front door. You won’t even have to ask me.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Even if I don’t tell you everything?”
Jonas reached across the table and took hold of my hand, engulfing it in his warmth. “You don’t owe me your truth. Just…you’re okay, right? I want to make sure you’re okay.”
My hand reflexively tightened around his. “I will be.”
Jonas nodded once. “Good enough then. I’m here if you want to talk.”
He withdrew his hand, and I let it go reluctantly. I missed his warmth, his reassurance, but I was relieved he wasn’t pushing me for more details. If he’d used my need for independence as a tool to mine me for every secret, I would have been furious. Instead, he freely offered what I needed and accepted my limitations.
That surprised me, but maybe it shouldn’t. For all that Jonas had annoyed me as a teen, he’d been the only person in the house to really see me. When I thought back on those days, I realized that he never once said a cruel word to me. He poked and prodded and needled me, sure. But in the process, he’d also tethered me to the world outside my head.
Jonas stood up, but not before nudging my plate. “Eat that delicious cinnamon roll. I’m getting seconds and thirds. If you don’t keep up, you’ll miss out.”
I snorted, eyeing Jonas’s frame. He wore jeans and a plaid flannel over a T-shirt, but I still remembered the body underneath. Abs on top of abs. The boy’s body was insane.
“You don’t eat like this all the time, do you?” I asked. “There’s no way you’d look like—” I stopped, biting down on my lip.
Jonas smirked. “Look like what? A wet dream come true?”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I was going to say.”
“A male underwear model?” He grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, tugging it up enough to give me a teasing flash of hard stomach. “I do look amazing.”
I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. “You’re so egotistical.”
“Is it egotistical if it’s true?” he mused as he loaded his plate with cinnamon rolls. “But to answer your question, I hit the gym. A lot. I find that guys want my body a lot more if it’s a good one.”
“You, uh, hook up a lot?” I asked awkwardly. I was very much a serious relationship kind of guy. I’d never just hooked up, but the idea held a certain appeal. I couldn’t trust my judgment about guys, so sex without a controlling relationship might be a nice change of pace.
“I do,” Jonas said as he returned to the table. “It’s fun.” He shrugged. “Someday I’ll get serious with someone.” He paused. “When it’s the right guy.”
His eyes seemed full of messages for me, but I couldn’t read any of them. I felt myself flush and look away.
“Makes sense.”
It was a lie. Nothing about the way Jonas affected me made sense. One minute I was nervous around him and the next I felt safer than I’d ever been, comforted and protected. One thing was for sure. My memories hadn’t done him justice.
8
JONAS
After our tense morning, the day reeled out uneventfully. I still wasn’t sure what had wound Quinn up so much. Was relying on me to drive him somewhere really such a hardship? There was something else going on under the surface. I was just glad Quinn hadn’t insisted on taking off to parts unknown to avoid me.
After breakfast, Quinn washed up the dishes and I loaded up a holiday movie. Quinn had said Christmas was his favorite holiday, but I wasn’t really in the mood to help him decorate the cabin. I suggested a holiday movie marathon instead, hoping that if we kicked back and relaxed, Quinn might become a little more comfortable with me.
I put on Home Alone, and he laughed. “This would be the holiday movie you’d choose.”
“What? It’s got Christmas.”
“And a ridiculous child pulling pranks on thieves,” he said with an eye roll. “Not exactly warm holiday fuzzies.”