Snowed in for Christmas

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Benjamin

I CAREFULLY AVERT MY eyes as I sling Jett’s arm over my shoulders and maneuver him toward the tub. I can look away all I like, but it’s impossible to ignore the feeling of bare skin against my neck. Jett leans heavily on me, his breath scratchy in my ears, like he’s … like he’s breathing way too hard or something.

I refuse to let myself think about that as I get Jett up and move him to the edge of the tub. Thankfully, he lifts his own leg over the lip, but he hisses the moment his toes touch the hot water, and I have to pause with him draped against me. At first, I cast my eyes to the water, searching for escape, but the surface is too reflective for safety. I end up focusing on the wall to my side as my glasses blessedly fog up from the steam of the bath.

Slowly, painfully, Jett lowers himself into the tub. One toe at a time, he sinks into the warm water. I get him over the lip and make sure he doesn’t slip, which involves a lot of him clinging to me until he finally sits in the tub, the water covering him to the chest. He sighs as the warmth hits him, and I rush to turn off the faucet.

I relax. He should be fine now. He clearly doesn’t have frostbite or hypothermia, though I think it was a close call on that latter point. A little while in the tub and he’ll be back to his obnoxious self.

But as I attempt to slip away, a wet hand darts out of the tub and snags me by the wrist. I blink down at the connection, then look up to find Jett seemingly as surprised as I am by his own actions. He hastily releases me.

“Sorry, uh…” he says. “Would you mind?”

This time, I’m the one who’s frozen. My brain glitches over his shy request. Is Jett asking me to stay with him? Is he that shaken? He isn’t even looking at me anymore, his eyes downcast and his hands back under the water.

I sit down on the toilet seat beside the tub. Maybe I feel bad for him. Maybe I’m simply so shocked that I can’t get myself out of that bathroom. This is a completely different Jett than the one I’ve known here and back at our college. He’s quiet, almost bashful, like getting stuck out there in the snow shattered his usual confidence. All the cocky swagger and lewd joking falls away, leaving behind a guy who’s scared and alone and just suffered a pretty decent shock.

He starts washing himself without a word. I don’t watch, but there isn’t much else to look at in this tiny bathroom. Clouds of steam billow up from the tub, warming the whole room and fogging both the mirror and my glasses. I take off the latter and clean them on my shirt, and when I put them back on, Jett is looking at me. He looks away just as quickly, but that beat of connection trembles between us.

I clear my throat, searching for something to say, something to break the awkwardness. We were never supposed to be in each other’s lives at all, but if our parents are going to date, we should have remained distant enemies. I’m sure he hates that I’ve seen him vulnerable, hates that he needed my help, but I actually prefer this side of him to all that posturing he does at school. The performance seems so flimsy and transparent now that I’ve glimpsed a different side of him. I have to wonder if anyone else realizes how phony it is. Perhaps he doesn’t let them.

He’s probably going to murder me for discovering his soft side, but for now the silence is oddly comfortable. Jett finds the soap, working it into a lather before he rubs it on himself. It’s awkward sitting on the toilet within arm’s reach as he rubs his hands over his broad chest and down his surprisingly well toned arms. I knew he was a gym guy — he brags about it so much, how could I not? — but it’s one thing to know that intellectually and quite another to see it for myself. The definition in his chest and the muscle corded across his shoulders and down his arms speaks to a shocking amount of discipline. I would almost respect it if those leanly muscled arms belonged to anyone but him.

He turns a little, and I glimpse something even more surprising. Perched on one all-too-toned trapezius is a little bird in black ink. The simple, stark design shows the silhouette of some sort of bird in flight, its wings spread as it soars across Jett’s back. It’s tiny, tucked away in a spot most people would never see, even if he wore a tank top.

“You like birds?” I say.

Jett stops scrubbing to peer at me, then twists like he’s trying to get a look at his own tattoo. “Oh, that,” he says. He reaches a hand over his shoulder and rubs at the tattoo like he can pet the bird depicted there. “Yeah, I do. I had a bird like this growing up. That’s why I chose this design. Her name was Pepper because she was kind of a gray, peppery color. She, uh, she was kind of my best friend at times.”

A soft smile graces his lips as he rubs idly at the tattoo.

I have to swallow around something lodged in my throat. Where the hell did this Jett come from? I’m starting to believe I dug a different guy out of that snow drift by the bridge because this cannot be the same partyboy asshole I’ve known throughout college.

“I always liked animals,” Jett continues. “But birds are my favorite.”

“You know, there’s a lot of wildlife around here,” I say. “I mean, when everything isn’t covered in snow. A lot of birds, as well. The mountains around here provide ideal habits for certain species.”

I wait for him to call me an annoying nerd, but he doesn’t. When Jett regards me, there’s genuine interest in his eyes.

“I’d like to see that,” he says.

“We can’t right now, but when the snow melts…”

I trail off as I realize I was about to propose an outing — with him . The cold must have gotten to both of us. I would never want to be alone on some backwoods trail with Jett, and I’m sure he’d sooner eat his own hand than go hiking at all. Yet Jett looks me dead in the eyes when he responds.

“That’d be kinda cool,” he says.

I must blink or startle. He looks away swiftly, pulling his knees up toward his chest.

“I mean, if the snow melts,” he adds. “Doesn’t seem like that’s happening any time soon. Which I guess I learned today. Thanks for, you know, coming to get me and all.”

Another thank you? Okay, this is way beyond weird at this point. I’m going to die of shock if things keep on this way.

“I noticed the footsteps,” I say with a shrug. That’s all the explanation I want to give. In truth, I want to run from this bathroom as soon as I can, as soon as he seems back to himself. Things are taking a stranger and stranger turn, and I’m way out of my depth.

“I should have looked at a map,” Jett says. “It was dumb. Sorry you had to go out into the cold and all.”

“It’s fine,” I say, then add, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Jett smiles down at the steaming bathwater. “Still have all my appendages, it seems.” His hand darts under the water and between his legs. “Yup, still there. Didn’t freeze and fall off.”

Heat flushes into my cheeks. I thought we were doing pretty well pretending he wasn’t sitting there naked, but I suppose Jett wasn’t content with that. Of course he had to go and make things inappropriate. He’s my dad’s girlfriend’s son, and even if he wasn’t, we’ve never gotten along. Our relationship could get complicated in the future, and the absolute last thing we need is to make that situation worse.

Not that we would. Or could. I mean, it’s Jett. He jokes this way with everyone. It’s just how he talks. It has nothing to do with me in particular.

Suddenly, he chuckles. “You’re kinda cute when you get all flustered.”

I blink so hard I see stars. “Excuse me?”

Jett flashes a toothy grin. “God, what a nerd. One dick joke and you’re red to your ears. Relax, man.”

“How can I possibly relax when you’re—”

I clamp down, cutting myself off, but the damage is done. Whether I meant to end that with “naked” or “Charlotte’s son,” neither answer is good. One or both sends Jett into a fit of laughter that sloshes the water in the tub, nearly spilling it out onto the bathroom floor.

“Calm down,” Jett says. “Our parents are only dating. It was just a joke.”

“I know it was a joke.”

“Man, you’re such a prude. How have you survived so long being that uptight?”

“I’ve survived just fine, in fact,” I snap.

“Have you?” Jett says, and something mischievous curls his grin. “You strike me as the kind of guy who desperately needs to let loose. The sort who goes to his first party and drinks until he blacks out because he’s been holding back for his entire life. It’s not good for you, you know. You miss out on all the good stuff. Plus, it makes you kinda lame.”

“I don’t care about being lame.”

“No?” Jett says. “Then what do you care about?”

I could brush him off. It would be so easy. Maybe it’s something about how vulnerable he is sitting naked in the tub after almost giving himself hypothermia, but my answer comes out more sincere than I intend.

“I want to fix things,” I say. “I want to save places like this. I want to save birds like the one on your shoulder, like the ones living in these mountains. I want to preserve the things we’re destroying so casually.”

He stops, all the jovial teasing dropping off his face. We stare at each other, nothing but the steam filling the bathroom between us, and I see something in his eyes I never expected to find: respect.

“That’s really cool, man,” he says a bit too softly.

My stomach bunches up. The bathroom is suddenly sweltering hot. Sitting here in my cold weather gear was bearable before, but it abruptly becomes intolerable. I jerk to my feet, the urge to escape ticking in my chest like a bomb about to explode.

“Warm up,” I say.

Then I start backing away.

“Ben, hey, wait,” Jett says.

But this time I don’t heed him. I keep edging myself out of the bathroom, running from that awkward moment of eye contact.

“You should have everything you need in here,” I say. “Call me if you need something, though. I’ll be down the hall.”

It’s not a real offer, and we both know it, but it gives me enough cover to slip out of the bathroom. Jett watches me the entire way. He looks like he wants to call out to me again, but he remains silent as I free myself and shut the door behind me.

The moment I escape, I rush to my bedroom and close myself inside. I start stripping off jackets and socks until I’m standing in the room shivering in nothing but a T-shirt and jeans. I wrap my arms around myself, but it does nothing to banish the chill racing up and down my spine.