Jennie

I can list the things I like about my cabin on one finger: not being in it.

I spend a good part of the evening trying to work on my thesis. Trying being the operative word. Mostly, all I can think about is kissing Lali and the feel of her erection pressing against my stomach through all the barriers of fabric.

While I have spent some time on the water, it hasn't been studying the animals in it. So I review some of my preliminary research and manage to make notes on the correlations I intend to focus on when I actually put some time and energy into the real reason I'm here. Which is not making out with Lali.

But she's so good at it.

It makes me wonder how many other women have had the opportunity to experience her kissing skills. It also makes me wonder what else she's good at. Probably everything, I decide. She seems to know exactly what she's doing. While I have a master's in sex therapy, most of my knowledge is theory and text based.

And now I'm thinking about sex for what seems like the millionth time since I fell into Lali's lap on the plane a few days ago. And I'm thinking about how uncomfortable this bed is in comparison to the one in her spare room. Right next to her bedroom. Where she's probably sleeping right now. Unlike me.

Instead, I'm lying on a lumpy mattress, staring at the ceiling, freezing under a pile of musty-smelling blankets, wishing I'd taken her up on her offer.

I know without an ounce of doubt that I would not be sleeping in the room beside her if I went back to her place. I don't think there's anything wrong with people being attracted to each other. In theory, it's a natural human reaction. But I have never been this wildly attracted to anyone before in my life, and I worry that my lack of restraint may be a problem.

I roll over onto my stomach and pull one of the dank pillows over my head, close my eyes, and try to shut my brain off. It's pointless, though. I'm wide awake. It's only four o'clock in the morning, but I give up on trying to sleep.

I make myself a coffee, toast a bagel and slather it in cream cheese, and head outside with a pair of binoculars. While we were in town yesterday I was able to borrow a couple of books on my e-reader, and I picked up a million brochures so I'll have some reading for comparative data analysis.

I get lost in my reading and watching for dolphins and whales on the water for the next few hours. I would probably spend the entire day sitting outside, despite it being cold and my fingers being mostly numb, just to avoid the cabin.

Eventually I need to use the bathroom, and I could definitely use a fresh pot of coffee, since my eyeballs feel a lot like eggs covered in sand when I blink. The phone rings just as I'm finishing up in the bathroom. I don't even bother to wash my hands. Instead, I rush out with my pants still half-down and answer the call before the phone stops ringing.

"Hello!" I shout and then cringe because I'm too loud.

"Jennie?"

My excitement deflates like a sad balloon, but I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "Oh, hi, Mom."

"Thank God you answered. I was getting worried. I emailed four times already this morning, and I've been calling for the past two hours."

"Oh, sorry, I was outside and I couldn't hear the phone, and cell service really isn't reliable here. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, oh yes. Everything is fine. I was just worried about you since you didn't call yesterday. I read an article about bear attacks up there in Alaska. Did you know you can't keep your garbage outside because of the bears? And did you know that brown bears are related to grizzlies? They'll come sniffing around if you leave any food out. You have bear spray, don't you? I should have insisted you take shooting lessons over archery when you were a teenager."

"I know all about the garbage, Mom, and you know how I feel about guns." I shudder at the thought of ever having to hold one.

"I know, I know. But what about the bear spray? Do you at least have that?"

"I do."

"Okay. Well, that's good. How are things going? You know it's all right if you get homesick and decide to come back early. Your ticket is open ended, so you can fly home anytime."

"I'm actually having a great time."

"Oh. Well . . . that's good. You're managing the anxiety okay, then? You have all your visualization techniques for when things get stressful?"

"I'm managing everything just fine, and yes, I know what to do when things get stressful. It's pretty quiet around here, though."

"I'm glad to hear that." She doesn't sound glad at all. "Have you made any friends? You can be so focused on your studies and sometimes making friends is hard for you. Are there any other students there?"

"No other students, but I did make a friend."

"Really? That's so wonderful!"

I try not to be affronted by her shock.

"Where did you meet her? Have you done fun things together? If she's not a student, what does she do? Is she local?"

"I met them on the plane. They're not local—they actually have an alpaca farm in New York, which is really cool. We went boating yesterday."

"Well, that sounds fun! Did you wear a life jacket? What's her name?"

" Lali."

" Lali?"

I hate that I'm twenty-five and telling my mother that I met someone is still a thing. "Yeah, Lali."

I'm met with silence—a long, heavy silence. I'm aware it won't last. "You're spending time with someone? What do you even know about her? And who goes by that name? I don't like this at all, and I don't think your father is going to like it either."

I bite back the scathing remarks I'd like to let fly, aware I'll regret it if I get into an argument with my mother with no way to patch things up from this far away. "She's very nice, Mom. She's been very helpful and kind. She's taken me grocery shopping, and we had a nice afternoon exploring the town together."

"Do you really think this is a good idea, Jennie? You know how attached you get to people. You're only there for six weeks, and you already sound smitten!"

"I'm not smitten." I don't like how sour those words are. "I'm only here for a short time, and she's only here for a few weeks. There's no harm in spending time with someone I like."

"People only want one thing, Jennie."

"She's not just anyone, Mom. I'm a twenty-five-year-old woman. We have fun together, and I'm going to enjoy my time with her," I snap.

More silence follows.

"Please, Mom, don't make this hard for me."

She sighs. "You know how much I worry about you."

"I know, but I'm having fun, and she really is nice." And very good at kissing. "How's everyone doing? How is Mooreen? She must be ready to have her calf soon. Is Dr. Flood coming to take care of that?" It's not a subtle shift, but it does the trick.

My mom goes off on a rant about the animals, then goes on to gossip about the neighbors.

Eventually she lets me go so she can get back to laundry. I decide to call my friend Irene, who recently moved out to Chicago for a great job. I miss her, but we still keep in touch through phone calls and email. She's much more enthusiastic about my new friend.

By the time I end the call with her, it's already two o'clock in the afternoon, and I'm tired and hungry. I eat a handful of crackers, too exhausted from being up since four o'clock in the morning to be bothered with boiling water and making noodles. The sun is no longer shining, clouds having rolled in while I was on the phone, darkening the afternoon sky.

I decide a twenty-minute nap will do the trick and that I might be able to make it through the rest of the day, and I have half a hope of getting a decent night's sleep. After my nap I can call Lali and see if she's still up for doing something.

I put on some relaxing music and lie down on my lumpy bed. The moment I close my eyes, Lali's toned chest appears behind my lids. I allow the memory of his lips on mine and the way it felt to be pressed up against all those hard muscles to take over as I sink into blissful sleep.

A huge bang startles me awake. I bolt upright and reach for the closest object, which happens to be a textbook on my nightstand. No lights are on, which doesn't make a lot of sense, since I could've sworn they were when I fell asleep. A flash of lightning startles me, and seconds later a crash of thunder makes the entire cabin shake. Shadows crawl across the walls for the short span of time that there's light, so, of course, I scream.

I hate thunderstorms. The thunder sounds a lot like gunshots, and it reminds me of my time at college in Seattle. That, along with the fact that I'm in a rickety cabin, the fire has gone out, and there are no lights on, sends me right into Anxiousville.

Rain pounds on the roof, and more thunder and lightning have me hiding under my covers. I try to slow my panicked breathing, but it's coming too fast and I'm already spiraling out of control—all my thoughts are fleeting. I need light.

"Take a breath, Jennie. Take a breath and figure it out," I tell myself. I inhale deeply and exhale slowly. Breathe in. Breathe out.

There has to be a flashlight somewhere in here. Or some candles. I gave up on charging my cell phone yesterday, since I have one of those cheap carrier services and I haven't been getting reception at all. Still, it doesn't hurt to see if it's holding a charge so I can at least use the screen to find something more reliable. Unfortunately, it's dead, just like all the lights in this place.

A cold drop of water hits me on the back of the neck—and then another on my arm.

The momentary reprieve in my panic dissolves as I stumble around in the strange inky darkness, searching the cupboards for anything other than the pack of matches I keep using to light the fire. I finally find a lighter, but all it does is spark without giving me a flame. Eventually I manage to find a flashlight, but it flickers once and dies. "Is nothing about this stupid place reliable?" I yell to no one.

The only answer is a strike of lightning and a boom of thunder.

The wind picks up, howling through the walls, making it sound like there are wolves outside my cabin. Which is when I totally lose it. Because here I am, alone in this cabin with no lights, no flashlight, no candles—and the roof is leaking in a bunch of places, based on the number of times I'm getting dripped on.

"You need to get a grip, Jennie," I tell myself through a sob. I suck in a deep breath and release it through my nose, trying to focus on the visualization strategy my therapist always tells me to use when the panic gets too big.

I go through my senses: five things I can taste, four things I can touch, three things I can smell, two things I can hear—that doesn't help the anxiety at all, since thunder happens right at that moment.

I work to block out the memories from college. The storm. The lightning and thunder, how they overlapped with the repetitive rat-a-tat. The crashing open of the lecture hall doors. The screaming . . .

I'm startled once again when the phone rings. If it's my parents, there's no way they're going to believe I'm okay. Because I'm not. I'm terrified. But I really don't want to be alone in this storm right now, so I answer it, even if it's going to bring me nothing but grief.

"Hello?" I croak.

The line crackles with static. "Jennie?"

It's not my parents, thank God. " Lali?"

"Hey, I'm glad you answered. I tried to call earlier, but the line was busy—" she cuts out when a huge crack of thunder makes the cabin shake. I also shriek, which makes it hard to hear. "Are you all right?"

"Uh . . ." I consider lying but realize there isn't much of a point. "I don't have any power."

"Yeah, all the lines are down. The summer storms can be harsh here, and we can lose power for a couple of days."

"A couple of days?" There's that high pitch again.

"Yeah, I have a generator in case of power failures. I'll come get you, okay? I'll be there in five minutes, maybe ten at the most."

"Okay. That would be nice." I wherper at the next flash of lightning. "I don't really like thunderstorms."

"I'll be there as quick as I can."

"Can you bring a flashlight? The ones here don't have any batteries."

"Shit. Yeah, of course. I'm already on my way out the door. See you in a few."

"Okay. Thank you." I reluctantly hang up the phone. I want to pack a bag, but I can't do that without some kind of light source.

Minutes drag on for what feels like hours, until a knock scares me—although pretty much everything is scaring me right now. I flip the lock and throw open the door. Standing on the rickety, unsafe back steps, getting pounded by the rain, is Lali, dressed in a yellow rain slicker, holding a flashlight bright enough to land a plane.

I step back, letting her in. His hood falls back, exposing her gorgeous face, flushed and dotted with raindrops. I close the door behind her and throw myself into her arms, not caring that she's soaking wet. Or that I look desperate. A crash of thunder has me trying to bury my face in her chest.

She stands there for a moment, unmoving, possibly shocked, before she finally wraps her wet arms around me. "Hey, you're okay."

"I really hate thunderstorms," I mumble into her rain slicker.

She runs a soothing hand down my back. "Totally understandable when it's raining almost as hard inside as it is outside."

I take several deep, steadying breaths, trying to regain a little composure so I don't come across as a complete head case, but I've been crying, and my face always gets blotchy and my eyes get puffy. At least the lighting is bad.

Eventually I loosen my hold, aware I can't koala bear her forever. "I'm okay. I'm fine. Thanks so much for coming."

"I would've been here sooner if I'd known it was this bad." She cringes as drops of water land on her head from the ceiling above. "Let's pack you a bag and get you out of here."

I nod. "I'd like that."

With the help of her flashlight I stuff clothes into my suitcase. I throw in my laptop and any other electronics, worried that they'll get wet and ruined with how much rain is coming through the roof.

I toss my toiletries in as well and throw on my coat. "I think I'm ready." I shove my hands in my pockets so she can't see how much I'm shaking.

Lali stuffs my suitcase into a big black garbage bag before we head out. The rain is so heavy I can barely see the truck, still running, sitting less than twenty feet from the back door. "Let's go," she shouts, voice drowned out by the driving downpour.

I make a break for it as another boom of thunder shakes the ground. My feet slide out from under me, but Lali's strong arm wraps around my waist, dragging me back up.

"Got you." Lali half carries me the rest of the way to the truck, only letting me go when she's sure I have my footing. I wrench the door open, scrambling into the passenger seat with help from Lali. Once I'm safe inside, she tosses my suitcase into the back seat and rushes around the hood.

It's warm and dry inside, apart from where I'm dripping all over the seat and the floor. In the short distance between the cabin and the truck, my coat got soaked through to my shirt. Lali blasts the heat, and I buckle myself in.

The windshield wipers are on full speed, but the rain is coming down faster and harder than they can do their job. It takes twice as long to get back to her place, because branches have fallen on the road and she has to swerve around some of the larger ones.

Once we reach Sweet View Home, she presses an automatic garage-door opener and pulls in. Shifting into park, she cuts the engine. "Come on, let's get you inside and dried off."

Despite the blasting heat, my teeth are still chattering—I'm not sure if it's from the cold or the anxiety. "That w-would be n-nice."

Lali is out of the truck and around the passenger side before I even have my seat belt unfastened. Although I can't really feel my fingers, so hitting the release button is more difficult than usual. I manage to free myself as Lali opens the door. She wraps her wide palms around my waist and lifts me out of the truck. I brace my hands on her shoulders, embarrassed and strangely turned on by how easy it is for her to pick me up like I weigh no more than a toddler.

She sets me down, and I huddle into myself, still shivering, as I wait for her to grab my stuff from the back seat. I follow her inside, not knowing what to say. My shoes make a squishy sound as I step onto a mat in what's clearly the mudroom. This space alone is probably bigger than my entire cabin.

I drop to one knee and focus on the task of untying my shoes. The laces are soaked, and they pull tighter instead of looser when I tug the loops. I'm frustrated, embarrassed, and still trying to get a handle on how anxious I am.

"Hey." Lali drops down into a crouch in front of me. She's still wearing rain boots, which are far more practical than my running shoes.

"I keep making the knots tighter." I avoid making eye contact by continuing the futile task of untying my shoes.

Her warm hand covers mine. "You're freezing. Let me help, Jennie."

I stop fighting with the knots and let her take over. She leaves the laces and pulls my shoes off. My socks are soaked, along with every other part of me, and they stick to the shoes, coming off with a wet suction sound. I'm sure the bottoms of my feet are wrinkly, and the rest of me looks like a splotchy drowned rat.

My teeth won't stop chattering as Lali helps me to my feet and unzips my coat. It lands on the floor with a heavy thud. Her own yellow raincoat is gone. I shiver violently, and Lali runs her hands up and down my arms. It feels nice, but it doesn't do much good since I'm soaked to the bone.

"Come on. You need to get warm, and that's not going to happen in these wet clothes." She tucks me into her side and grabs my suitcase, leading me down the hall and upstairs to the bedroom I stayed in two nights ago. Lali drops her arm from around my shoulder and sets my suitcase on the bed.

I hug myself, trying to control the shivering. I'm embarrassed that I'm in such a state. Another roll of thunder and flash of lightning makes me jump.

She moves closer until her socked feet touch my bare toes. "God, you're like a scared little kitten, aren't you?" She skims my cheek with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry. I know it's silly and it's j-just a th-thunderstorm."

"You don't have to be sorry. That cabin is the prime setting for a horror movie." She tips my chin up, her expression soft. "Why don't you warm up with a shower and put on some dry clothes? I'll make you something hot to drink."

"I would l-like that."

"Great. I'll put a few extra logs on the fire. Take your time." She presses a kiss to my cheek, then leaves the room, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

I exhale a long breath as soon as I'm alone. Thank God I managed not to cry in front of her. That would be insanely embarrassing. I turn on the shower, strip out of my soaked clothes, and step under the hot spray. I can't hear the thunder or lightning in here, so I'm finally able to relax a little. I don't know how long I stay there, but by the time I'm done my hands are as pruney as my feet and my skin is bright pink.

I rummage around in my suitcase for a nice pair of underwear. I have to settle on pink cotton ones since I didn't bring anything sexy for this trip, thinking the only guys I'd be hanging around with would be of the whale or dolphin variety.

I pull on a pair of thermal leggings, a thermal undershirt, an oversize sweater, and wool socks. I check my reflection in the mirror, relieved my cheeks aren't blotchy anymore, and head downstairs.

I find Lali in the living room, stoking the fire. There are pillows laid out on the floor and big fluffy blankets. On a tray next to the pillows and blankets are two steaming mugs of hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows. A plate of cookies and pastries sits between them. The rain has slowed, the pounding now a light patter.

"This looks cozy." I clasp my hands to keep from wringing them. Now that I'm not panicking, I'm more than a little embarrassed by the way I acted when Lali picked me up.

"And you look much warmer." She pats the pile of blankets. "Wanna come sit with me?"

"Sure." I drop onto one of the cushions and cross my legs as Lali does the same. "Sorry I was so . . . freaked out when you came and got me."

She props herself up on one elbow. "Can I be completely honest?"

I glance quickly at her and then away. "Of course."

"I'm just glad I get to spend more time with you. And I actually really like that I get to protect you, even if it's just from getting rained on—which probably sounds wrong. It's just . . . nice to take care of someone else? Feel . . . needed?" she blows out a breath and cringes. "I'm going to stop while I'm ahead. Or maybe behind."

"I think I get what you mean." I run my fingertip along the seam of my leggings so I have somewhere to focus that isn't Lali's face—or specifically her mouth. Now that the worst of the storm seems to have passed and I can do something other than panic, I'm remembering what it was like to be kissed by her. "It's kind of nice to be taken care of. Normally I'm just dealing with overprotective parents, so this is much more welcome."

She relaxes a little. "Okay. Good. I'm glad you feel that way. And I can completely understand why your parents are overprotective."

"I can take care of myself—I just don't like thunderstorms," I say rather defensively.

She runs a gentle finger along the back of my hand. "I think you can take care of yourself just fine, considering you survived in that shithole cabin the past few days. But I'd be overprotective, too, if I had a daughter and she was gorgeous and sweet like you. I wouldn't want anyone to take advantage of what's mine." She shakes her head. "I think I'm digging myself a bigger hole, aren't I?"

I laugh. "There weren't many opportunities for me to get taken advantage of with four older brothers."

"Can't say I blame them for wanting to keep the wolves at bay." Her gaze moves over me in a hot, familiar way.

"You're not a wolf, though, are you, Lali? You're a teddy bear."

Her dimpled grin appears. "I'm glad you think that. You feeling better now?"

"Much, thank you. I don't know what I would've done tonight if you hadn't come to get me." Other than cry, anyway.

"I'm glad I could. Tomorrow we can go back and get the rest of your stuff."

"The owners of the cabin will be back at the end of the week, I think. I can let them know the roof needs to be fixed." I work on sounding flippant about it, because I've already been the damsel in distress more times than I'd like with Lali.

Lali cocks a brow. "At the risk of sounding like I'm telling you what to do, you can't stay there anymore, Jennie."

"I've already paid for it, though, and I can't afford to rent something else."

"You don't have to rent something else. You can stay here. Four bedrooms, remember? And you're already set up in one of them. Unless you don't want to stay here. If that's the case, then I can drive you to town and we can see what's available there, but that cabin is a total shithole, and I can't in good conscience take you back there unless it's to get your things."