A bell rings as we enter, and a little old man stands from his rocking chair behind the counter. “Xander, my boy,” he says boisterously. “I hope you had enough supplies. I tried to get Martin up before Christmas, but the snow kept on a-coming.”
“It’s fine, Alfred,” Xander responds, rubbing my hands to warm them. “I still have plenty of food left. I’m glad you suggested I stock up.”
“I might’ve had insider knowledge.” His twinkling gaze shifts to me. “And you must be Ivy Spencer.”
“Uh …” I’m unsure what to say. “I am, but how would you know that?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one, little lady,” he says, smirking at Xander, who looks just as confused as me. “Annabelle called and asked me to stock the place up. She said she had a friend coming who needed some space. Just as I was gathering supplies, lo and behold, in walks Xander. It felt like fate to me, so I let it do its thing.” He shifts his eyes to our still connected hands. “Looks like it worked.”
Xander returns the nosy old man’s smirk, while I stand there too stunned to respond. “It more than worked, Alfred. Miss Spencer might very well be the love of my life.”
“I take it you got rid of those other two interlopers?” he asks, lifting a wrinkly brow. “They smelled like trouble to me.”
“You always were perceptive.” Xander chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, we got rid of them.”
“Looks like my job here is done.” The old man beams, brushing his hands together. “I can die a happy man.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Look what I found,” Xander says as he walks out of the bedroom.
He’s holding up a box, and when I see what it is, I smile. “That would’ve been nice a week ago. I think my back has finally gotten used to the carpet.”
“It’s never too late,” he says, pulling the air mattress and pump from the box. “We can sleep in luxury for a few nights at least.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “We’ve always had the bed.”
My comments don’t deter Xander, though, as he gets to work inflating the mattress. As soon as it’s ready, he starts making it up with the fresh stack of blankets I’d taken from the dryer before our trip to Vanhorn Valley.
“There we go,” he says, flopping on top of his masterpiece and rolling to his stomach, his chin propped on his palm. “It’s nice and roomy.” He spreads his other hand over the empty space beside him. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t like too much room.”
“I don’t know.” I toe the coffee table, toying with him. “Spreading out can be nice, too.”
“The pain.” He rolls to his back, clutching his heart.
My own heart does a little pitter patter, and that’s when it hits me. It doesn’t matter what he used to do, whom he’s slept with, or whether it was for film or from the heart. All that matters is he only wants to sleep with me now, and I want the same.
I jump from the sofa and bound over the coffee table, my punch-drunk-happy heart thundering a staccato beat of love inside my chest. My hands shake as I stand over him, frantically ridding myself of my clothes. My eagerness to be with him is swelling inside me to the point of bursting.
He recognizes my desperation and climbs to his knees, yanking his sweater over his head and tossing it to the side. He grips my bare thighs. “Ivy,” he murmurs, breathing deeply. “I don’t know if I could stand to lose you.”
I kick my leggings and underwear off my feet and fall into him. “You won’t.”
Something wild runs rampant inside me, driving me insane with need, and I don’t hold back. My lips attack his, and my hands roam his taut skin. He tastes like snowy sin, and I want to live on his essence for the rest of my life.
The emotions that course through me are new and exciting, things I’ve never before felt. It’s strange and exhilarating but also scary. I almost committed myself to someone else. Someone unworthy of my love and attention.
Tears burn my eyes, but they aren’t from sadness over what I’ve lost. They’re thankful. Honest. Relieved over what I’ve found. The connection between us is strong, as if there’s a tangible cord tethering us together for better or worse.
“I love you,” I whisper against his skin as my lips continue a path across his jaw and down his neck. “I want to keep you.”
“Fuck,” he rasps, grabbing my arms and pressing my back to the air mattress as he hovers over me. “Done.”
Everything else is a blur as he rids himself of his jeans and covers his cock in latex. When he enters me this time, emotions bubble up and spill over into words. I whisper my love and adoration as he rocks into me with tender strokes. The climb is slow and agonizing, pleasantly painful, and when the cliff approaches, I dive over it head-first.
My life with Xander awaits, and I don’t want to miss a second.
EPILOGUE
“Happy New Year, Xander,” I whisper as his lips close over mine.
He pushes me to my back, hovering over me as our tongues tangle. We’re naked and in front of the fire, the clock just struck midnight, and we’re sharing our last night together in the cabin. Tomorrow, we return to the real world, so I intend to take all he has to give tonight.
“Promise we’ll make this work,” he murmurs as his lips ghost across my skin. “Swear to me.”
“I swear,” I whisper-moan as his mouth descends.
My fists tighten in his hair as he covers my center. His teeth and tongue and lips are a magical, unrelenting combination of ecstasy-inducing pleasure. On New Year’s Eve, our last night together, fireworks erupt.
They aren’t outside.
Or on the TV.
They’re exploding between us, sparking to life behind my lids as he pushes me into the clouds many times. Early the next morning, our bodies say one final goodbye before the day sends us back to clean up the messes we left behind.
“That’s the last thing,” Xander says as he comes from outside after tossing the contents of the fridge in the trashcan. “I’ll let Martin know to come up and collect it.”
I look around the room, every personal touch we’ve added over the last couple weeks gone. “I’m going to miss this place.”
Xander’s arms close around me from behind and he places a soft kiss to my neck. “There’s nothing to miss. We can come here any time we want.”
“It’s a lovely idea.” I laugh, turning in his arms. “But it’s a long way from home.”
“For now,” he concedes, tilting his head. “Will Seattle always be home?”
“Will Los Angeles?” I lift a brow, throwing his question back at him.
“Hell to the no,” he says, smirking. “I’m not sure of a lot of things, but getting the hell away from there is top priority.” He shrugs, smiling softly as he sways us side to side. “Washington sounds amazing.”
“It’d be amazing to have you there,” I say, kissing the corner of his mouth. “But I want you to get your life on target without considering me. I’ll support whatever future you decide. I graduate in May, and then maybe we can start to plan together.”