“Are you gearing up to do something?” she asks, sounding panicked. “I feel like you’re building up for an attack. Is that what you’re doing? Jason, I need you to talk to me. Please don’t do anything rash—”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, ya ya ya ya, eeeeeeeeeee,” I cry, my nerves so shocked by my high-pitched squeal, that I actually feel my penis crawl inside my balls, praying we don’t get attacked by this enormously large, teeth-baring, sharply clawed beast of a bear. I charge forward, swinging the backpack back and forth like a death-wielding machete. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.
My vision tunnels in on itself as I make a beeline for safety. My legs move fast, hopping over logs, pushing past low-hanging branches with the backpack, all the while towing Dottie behind me. At some point, I’m moving so fast—my deathly cry still ringing in my ears—that I’m sure Dottie’s flapping in the wind like a flag behind me, holding on for dear life.
It isn’t until I can see the cabin—and I don’t feel like the bear has followed us—that I slow down to a steady walk. Dottie lets go of my hand and pauses to bend at the waist, her hands falling to her thighs.
“Jesus Christ, Jason. What the hell was that?”
“That was called saving your life. Did you see the look in that beast’s eyes? We were sitting ducks, his lunch. He was ready to bat around our bodies looking for the good meat. And trust me, my penis is good meat.”
“The bear barely reached my hips. It wasn’t big once we stood up. And it went scampering the other way the minute it heard your ear-piercing scream. You would have heard me telling you to stop if you’d turned down your vocal cords for one second.”
I shake my head. “No way was he hip height. I saw him point at me and make a chomping sound with his jowls. We were his dinner.”
“Bears don’t point.”
I thumb toward the woods. “That sadistic bastard back there did. Fucking singled me out. I had no choice but to save both of us with the sprint of our lives. Mind you, I’m incredibly slow, but I’ve never felt such wind below my feet before.” I jump a few times, adrenaline pumping through me. “Did you see my moves back there?” I wield the backpack like nunchaku and do some fancy footwork and end it on a spin. “That bear had no idea what to do with itself.”
“That bear ran off to get a hearing aid from your lady shriek.” Dottie pulls on her ear. “Dogs for miles heard your screaming.”
“More like war cry.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“More like your balls crawled up inside of you to hit such a high octave.”
More like balls shriveled up from pure terror.
“Are you saying you weren’t impressed with my display of heroism? I was a goddamn white knight back there.”
She looks back at me as she heads toward the cabin. “You were a petrified clown, but it was . . . cute.”
She turns away, continuing to the cabin.
Cute?
I’ll take cute. It’s a start. At least, it will be once my heart rate returns to normal. Fuck.
Chapter Eighty-Two
DOTTIE
Hours later, I still have Jason’s high-pitched squeal stuck in my head. It’s as if it’s on replay, constantly playing over and over again, and every time I hear it, I chuckle.
His attack on the bear and attempt to get us out of there unscathed was one of the most comical things I’ve ever seen.
The flail of his arms.
The use of the backpack as a sword.
The ear-piercing sound of an adolescent screeching for their life.
It was almost too much to handle.
When we got back to the house, I went to my room and laughed for a good five minutes, then I took a nap, but even at that, I dreamt of Jason running and screaming through the woods, his hand firmly gripping mine.
I can still feel the imprint of his hand, the way it clutched tightly, the way his fingers easily looped around mine.
I can’t remember the last time I held a man’s hand. Even though he was doing it to be my hero against a three-foot bear cub—yes, three feet, maybe—it still made me feel wild with excitement.
Now, we’re about to make dinner and instead of feeling that excitement, I’m feeling nervous, really nervous. Being close to him, cutting things—yes, I’m really good at cheffing—and mixing things, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold it together. I’ve thought of at least twenty beary punny one-liners that I’m struggling to stop smiling about using. And I want . . . I want him to see me as more than a friend, but I’m not sure of the right time. Is there such a thing?
Before leaving my room, I take one last look at myself in the mirror. I chose a simple pair of leggings and a shirt that hangs off my right shoulder, showing off the strap of my bralette. I left my hair in a high ponytail to keep it away from the food. And even though it seemed like Jason liked my glasses, I leave my contacts in because I don’t want to be fumbling around with glasses if we so happen to progress things further. That’s positive thinking though, who knows what will happen tonight?
On a deep breath, I exit my room and walk into the main living space. That’s where I spot Jason hunched over the counter, looking at his phone. When he hears me approach, he turns and his face lights up when he takes me in.
God, that’s a look that will never get old.
“Hey, you look comfy.”
“I am. Thanks.”
He claps his hands together. “Are you ready for this?”
“As much as I can be.” He takes me by the shoulders and directs me into the kitchen. Wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a plain, dark green shirt, he looks amazing, especially with the no shoes and socks.
Barefoot and in the kitchen; doesn’t get better than that. What on earth am I thinking? If he took off his shirt, it would get better. Not sure how I can make that happen . . .
“All right. I chose something easy for us to make, something that wouldn’t be too hard for you to replicate.”
I look at the ingredients, trying to decipher what it is. “Uhh, what are we making?”
“Gnocchi. I thought about making my homemade spaghetti sauce but figured that would be too much for you in one go, but we will be making our own garlic bread.”
“You want to make pasta? Are you insane?”
He chuckles. “It’s not as hard as you think. I already have the potatoes cooked and softened. We need to start shaving them down and then we can make the dough.”
He brings a plate of potatoes over to the main island along with a cheese grater. “Do you expect me to do this?”
“It’s not hard. Have you ever grated cheese?”
“No.”
He sighs but laughs at the same time. “Okay, so we’re at a real basic level then.”
“If I can’t microwave it, I can’t do it.”
“Good to know.” Stepping up behind me, he wraps his arms around me and brings his hands to mine. His chest is flush against my back while his head hangs forward over my shoulder. God, he smells so good, and he feels so good. This is exactly what I wanted. This kind of close proximity. I just didn’t think it was going to happen this fast.