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"
What? When?" I asked.

"
I stopped off at her store to stock up on some supplies in case it really does snow. I told her you felt feverish and she told me to tell you to stay home. She seemed quite worried about you. She told me if it snows like they think, that you're to take tomorrow off too, and that it was an order, so no arguing."

"
She acts tough, but she's nothing but a softie," I said, trying to sound blasé. I could imagine why she was worried. Fran was the only person I had confided in. I knew my secret was safe with her, though I knew my refusal to see a doctor worried her. I felt bad about the stress I was adding on her already frail shoulders, but not enough to have my fears confirmed. I didn't want hospitals with their endless tests, poking and poisonous toxins. I wanted to do things on my terms this time. It was my decision, and I planned to stick with it even though some doubt had begun to creep in. I was pretty convinced the man beside me had something to do with that.

"
I like her. Her crusty attitude is highly entertaining."

"
Yeah, I like her too, a lot," I agreed. "I forgot to ask you yesterday if you were able to retrieve everything."

"
With the help of some locals. Needless to say, I owe a handful of guys a round at Joe's. Turns out, it was more of a pain in the ass than I thought it would be," he admitted. "Not to mention, I may have been called a pansy when they saw the lanterns and candle remnants."

"I bet. Some of those guys
are pretty gruff and set in their ways. It's best to just ignore them," I said, stifling a yawn.

"
Oh, I didn't ignore them. I told them at least I got the girl," he said, chuckling as he pulled the drapes closed.

"
That'll show 'em," I said, closing my eyes. "Thanks for checking in on me and telling Fran I'd be out today," I added, fighting my drowsiness. I figured he'd be ready to leave now that he had checked on me.

My assumptions were wrong though. I drifted in and out of a fever
-induced sleep the majority of the day, and he was always there when I woke. I knew I should send him away. We were breaking every rule I had set, and would only be making things harder for ourselves in the end, but I couldn't find the will to send him away. His presence was oddly comforting as he pushed more Advil and water on me whenever I woke up. By the time the sun was setting, my fever had broken and I was ready to eat the hearty stew he had cooked for me in my kitchen.

"
A man who cooks is a rare treasure," I observed, balancing my bowl on my lap as I dunked a hunk of French bread in the thick broth. I was perched on my couch, bundled up in the same quilt from the night before, glad to finally be out of my bed. My relief that my fever had passed was tangible. I wasn't ready for my symptoms to be known.

"
Is that the only thing that makes me a treasure?" he said, sitting down and lifting my feet onto his lap.

"
Hmmm, I'll have to get back to you on that," I answered, lost in his touch. Who knew getting your feet massaged could be so sensual? It seemed the more time I spent with Nathan, the more items I realized had been solely missing from my list. Even something as simple as having him cook for me had made my chest ache from the sweetness of it. I'd been so focused on experiencing things like jumping off bridges and getting drunk that actual human contact activities had never occurred to me. I was so bent on keeping everyone at arm's length that somewhere along the way I'd shut myself completely off from the things that should have mattered. The fact that I'd actually taken Fran's and Tressa's advice was a relief. Of course, I knew a big majority of the sensations and feelings I was experiencing had a lot to do with the person I was sharing them with.

"
Do you like that?" he asked when I sighed with pleasure as his fingers kneaded the ball of my foot.

"
It's fair," I answered, giggling when he tickled the bottom of my foot.

"
Fair?" he growled, pulling on my foot.

I set my empty bowl on the table.
"You can't be good at everything. How ever will we fit your head out the front door," I laughed.

"
I'm far from perfect," he said quietly.

"Nobody's
perfect," I clarified.

"
Not even you?"

"Ha,
I'm far from perfect," I snorted.

"Why do you say that? From e
verything I've heard from Fran and your best friends, you practically float on a gold cloud playing a harp. I quote, 'she's the nicest person you'll ever meet and if you hurt her I'll cut off your balls.'"

"
Let me guess, Fran?"

"Would you believe she and Tressa
pretty much gave me the same speech?"

"
I'm touched they think so highly of me, but they really haven't known me that long. I have an uncanny habit of disappointing most people I know," I admitted. I instantly regretted my words. I knew it sounded like I was painting a woe-is-me picture of myself, and that was the last thing I wanted.

"Shit,
that had an after-school special ring to it," I joked, trying to make light of the moment.

"
Maybe you just don't see yourself clearly, or maybe you've set the bar so high for yourself that when you don't quite make the mark you think you've failed."

"
Maybe," I agreed, though I knew he was wrong. If he knew the facts, he'd know just how wrong he was, but then that was the point. He'd never know the facts, so there was no reason I should obsess over it.

"
Okay, so now that we've established we're not perfect, whatever will we do with our tarnished selves?" he asked, trailing his hand up over my calf. "Maybe we should work on perfecting this," he added, trailing his hand farther up my leg.

"
True, practice makes perfect, doesn't it?" I agreed as he hauled me into his lap.

"And god knows
we definitely want perfection on this," he said, dropping his lips on mine. Any other talking was forgotten as I lost myself in the touch of his lips as they discovered parts of my body they had missed the first night we spent together. No longer needing the quilt, I pushed it off me so he could have easier access to the places I wanted his lips the most.

"I think you must like that," he said when his tongue made
my sensitive nipple hard.

I nodded
, pulling his head back to me.

"
And this?" he asked, trailing his lips down my stomach. My only answer came out as more of a pant as he shimmied my pants down over my hips. Desire roared through me like a runaway train as his mouth continued to move down before settling between my legs.

Nathan

I was fucked and
I knew it. The moment I touched Ashton, I realized that getting her out of my system was easier said than done. In my stupidity, I'd convinced myself that once I had her it would curb the desire that crackled like a live wire between us. What an idiot. After lying with her curled up in my arms for the third night in a row, losing myself in her body yet again, it had become glaringly obvious that getting her out of my system was like trying to get off crack. It was an ironic analogy, but she was my drug of choice. Everything about her pulled me in and clouded my mind more sufficiently than any drug would ever be able to. When I was with her I was no longer the same person. Laughter in my regular life was sporadic at best, and yet, with Ashton it was as natural as breathing. Each new discovery I made about her was as enchanting as the last and made me want to continue probing until I knew everything that made her tick. It was becoming almost painful not to know the secrets she hid behind her smiles and jokes. I needed to know what we were facing. The complexity of our relationship was daunting. A week ago I would have balked at it, but everything was different now. In a week she had changed me completely.

I tightened my arm around her
taut midriff, pulling her more snugly into my arms. She sighed with satisfaction in her sleep, and though I had just made love to her a short time ago, I immediately became aroused just watching her. Every curve. Every lightly-colored bit of peach fuzz on her stomach. I buried my face in her hair, inhaling her, feeling drunk from the scent. I felt comfortable lying here. So much so that I drifted to sleep, wrapped around the woman I wasn't supposed to fall for.

I woke the next morning to Ashton
's excited squeals. I sat up blurry eyed and smiled when I saw her literally dancing at the front window. "Did you win a new car or something?" I teased, climbing out of bed to stand behind her.

"
It's snowing," she crowed, clapping her hands with glee.

"
I'm taking it you feel better?" I asked, chuckling at her enthusiasm.

"M
uch. We have to go out and play in the snow," she said, frantically pulling warm clothes out of her wardrobe.

"
I don't think it's going anywhere, sweets," I said, placing my hands on her to still her frantic movements.

"
Oh, you're naked," she said, stating the obvious as her eyes darted down to my morning companion.

"
Yeah, we sort of went to bed that way," I teased, watching as a delicate shade of pink crept up her neck, staining her cheeks. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" I asked.

"What? No, it's just like, you know, 'Ta-da. Here I am.' I
t threw me off," she stumbled out.

"Well, for your information, this is pretty common for most guys in the morning
."

"Really?
How unfortunate," she said.

"Get dressed," I laughed.
"The snow is calling your name."

"
Snow?" she said, looking momentarily confused. "Right, snow," she said finally, making me laugh again as she hurried off to the bathroom with an armload of clothes.

Fifteen minutes later
, we were out in front of her cottage watching big snowflakes fall lazily from the sky. The ground was already covered with an inch of the snow, making the ground crunch beneath our feet. Everything was peaceful and serene.

"
It's beautiful," Ashton exclaimed in a hushed tone as big flakes landed on her upturned face. She slowly turned in a circle with her arms outstretched.

"
I'm sure by December you'll feel different," I observed.

"
I won't be here in December to…" she trailed off.

"Really?
I was under the impression you planned on living here permanently," I said, watching her bite her lip. From her expression, I could tell she had slipped up.

"
Oh, I haven't decided," she answered. "Do you think enough will fall to make a snow angel and a snowman?" she asked, changing the subject.

I studied her for a moment
, debating whether I should pursue the issue. The forced gaiety in her voice convinced me to let it drop. "At the rate it's falling, I bet by noon you'll be able to make a decent snow angel at least. Do you want to go for a walk?" I asked, offering her my hand.

"
Yes," she answered as some of her excitement from earlier returned.

"
Are you warm enough?" I asked before we headed off toward the trail behind her house.

"
Yeah, I can barely walk from all the layers you forced on me," she reminded me.

"
Trust me, you'll be thankful for all those layers," I said, linking my gloved fingers with hers. "Besides, just yesterday you were laid up with a fever and a cold. You probably shouldn't even be outside."

"
I'm fine. There's no way I was missing the first snow."

"
You're awfully stubborn."

"
So? You're bossy, and I overlook that," she reminded me.

"
Not bossy. I just like things to get done the way I want and direct others to follow them out," I said, defending myself.

"Yeah, that doesn't sound
bossy," she teased, rolling her eyes. "Have you always 'not bossed' people around?" she added.

"
Liked things my way? Probably. When I was younger and it was just my mom and me, I felt the pressure of being the man of the house. My mom always seemed to have the weight of the world on her shoulders, so I wanted to help relieve some of the pressure for her. By the time I was thirteen, I'd taken over all the maintenance of the trailer we lived in. I became an expert at fixing leaky faucets, reattaching loose paneling and making sure our roof didn't leak during rainy season. Home Depot became my playground on weekends, as I took every workshop they offered. Seeing my interests, I think my mom had the idea that I would grow up to be an architect or a contractor. I think she was disappointed when I told her I wanted to be a journalist."

"
Why would she be disappointed?"