Page 24 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad
I was about to go to the kitchen and make lunch when my conscience told me I should offer to make him something too. The guy had already made me breakfast and dinner and served me hot cocoa. I needed to pull my own weight. Reluctantly, I opened the French door and stepped out into the frigid air.
He turned his head and then maneuvered his body to the side of the tub so that he could see me better. "The water is perfect if you'd like to come in."
What was it with him? He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Sweet and attentive one minute and then rude the next.
I schooled my face to hide my annoyance. "Thank you, but my swimsuit is packed and who knows when we'll be able to get a tow truck so I can head on home."
He brought his drink to his lips, taking a sip before resting it again on the side of the tub. "I know it won't be tonight."
What? No. I can’t continue to stay here.
"They anticipate getting Bucknell Road plowed later this evening, but another storm is coming through. They’ll be plowing and treating the road at the same time. So" —he motioned his free hand over the tub— "you might as well make yourself at home."
"Thank you, but I don't think so."
"I'm sorry I was such an asshole earlier." He cocked his head to the side. "Surely, you understand why?"
I couldn't guess the specifics, but I suspected it had something to do with my being Lindsay's friend. Why that would make him act the way he did, though, I wasn't sure.
"Have you ever wanted something that you shouldn't have?"
I nodded. "Sure." He came to mind. So did binging on chocolate cake.
“Have you ever allowed yourself to indulge in it, just a little bit? Thinking it would sate the craving, only to find out it fueled it?"
We could have been talking about chocolate cake, but I realized he was talking about me. The tension and irritation I’d been holding onto around him began to wane.
"It's fucking frustrating, Miranda, to try to avoid something you want badly when it's hovering in your orbit." He took another sip of his drink, but his gray eyes stayed on me. "Do you know what I mean?"
"I know exactly what you mean." And I did. Brett was my chocolate cake. The thing I wanted but shouldn't have. The thing that taking a single bite of would only lead to my wanting more.
"You do?"
"Yes."
His gray eyes watched me. "You feel it now? Here with me?"
"Yes."
"How good are you at resisting your cravings?"
"It depends on how appealing the thing I want is."
He studied me for a long moment and then set his glass down at the edge of the hot tub. He stood, turning his body fully to me, holding his hands out to his sides. He was completely naked. It had to be over one hundred degrees in the tub, but it was only in the twenties outside, so he had to be freezing.
"Is this appealing?" he asked.
Yes, yes, it was. "You're going to catch a cold."
He shrugged as he sank back into the tub. "Clearly, not appealing enough."
"I didn't say that."
"Then why don't you come in here with me? Same rules as last night."
I wanted to. I really did. "And what happens tomorrow when you regret indulging your craving?"
"I won't take it out on you."
