The air around me has never felt frostier. The heat that radiated out from my body as he smiled at me has faded, leaving me colder than if I would’ve just stayed passed out in the snow.

The tiny cabin looks drearier, like it’s been painted from the dullest, greyest pallet of the least inspired artist. I never realized before how much more vibrant this place feels with him in it.

How much more vibrant I feel, is more like it.

I watch from the window as Sawyer trudges through the snow and makes his way to a mound. I’d never think there was anything under it, but obviously, his observation skills are better than mine. He digs into the drift and tugs on a black corner that, the more he yanks on it, pulls back like a big blanket revealing a messy pile of logs underneath.

He wastes no time setting up a huge log as a stump and placing the first log on top. Thwack! His ax slides through the piece and the log explodes into two. So much for it being dull. Either that or his sheer strength doesn’t make a difference.

I’ll admit it, I stand here longer than I should. Watch closer than someone with a passing interest would. I’m absorbed by him. Looking away doesn’t feel like a natural option.

Thwack! His pile of split logs is growing on each side of his stump. It’s mesmerizing to watch him.

There’s something about a man who works with his hands. A man who’s tough enough to protect you from anything, but gentle enough where a softer touch counts. There’s that heat again. Creeping up my cheeks and teasing the insides of my thighs.

Outside, Sawyer looks back to the window and I practically fall to the floor in an attempt to hide. I don’t want him thinking that I’m staring at him. Just because that’s exactly what I’m doing, doesn’t mean he needs to know.

I squint at the cabin and feel like the life is being drained from me. I should go help him, I nod at the thought, knowing full well it’s a lie. Help him. Fat chance of me being very useful with woodchopping.

I don’t care, I’ll just keep him company then. That’s what every guy living off the grid and removed from society wants, right? Company. A friendly chat. Probably not, but it’s what he’s going to get.

I tighten the drawstring on the flannel pants Sawyer loaned me. I untie the front of his shirt and just let it hang around me like a dress. As I slip into my coat, I notice the glint of my engagement ring on my finger. It feels like an anchor to a miserable life. A life that is already feeling less real by the minute. I slide the ring from my finger and into my coat pocket. Even when I get out of here, I’m not going back to Ben. I’ll give this back to him.

My boots and hat are quickly slipped on and I wade through the heavy snow. I didn’t expect to be up to my pussy in snow. I guess that’s one way to cool down the flames of desire.

I push through, maybe this wasn’t the best plan, but I don’t care. I close the gap between him and I and feel the color return. It’s like every step I take toward him brightens the entire landscape. This must be how people felt when all they watched their shows in black and white and then it switched to technicolor.

Sawyer raises his arms overhead and swings the ax down, cleanly splitting a log in two. He notices me approaching and slings the ax over his thick shoulder and tilts his head at me. “What are you doing out here? Everything ok?” He asks. As I get closer, I can see concern flashing in his eyes.

“I came to help,” I pant. I’m starting to wonder if I’m going to need help pushing through all this snow. Spin class has got nothing on this cardio burn.

“You know how to split wood?” He looks unconvinced. Wise man.

“Well, not exactly,” I manage to make my way through and stand next to him. “But, I’m willing to learn, if you’ll teach me,” I look up at him and watch him size me up.

“Ok,” he finally answers, “it’s not like it’s a big secret. I’ll show you how,” he agrees. “Come here,” he nods to the spot right in front of him.

I stand between him and the stump, looking up at him and he laughs. “Not like that, like this,” he grabs hold of my hips and easily flips me on the spot so I’m facing the stump.

You can flip me around the bed like that anytime.

I suppress a giggle at the thought and start to cough a little.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just breathed in a snowflake I think,” I smile, but I can’t see if he believes me or not. He probably doesn’t care.

“Ok then, first thing you want to do is hold the ax low on the handle, that way you get more power,” he guides my hands to the position.

I can feel his strong body behind mine, like a wall protecting me from the world. It feels amazing. I close my eyes and enjoy his bare hands on mine. I don’t even care about the snow falling on my face or how stupid I look in his pants, nothing matters right now except the buzz of excitement running up my arms and through my chest.

“Good, so now you’re going to lift the ax up overhead, it’s a bit heavy, are you sure you want to do this?” For once, he isn’t mocking me. I can hear the genuine concern in his voice.

“I’m stronger than I look,” I scoff.

“If you say so,” he moves in closer and I can smell the fire smoke and cedar musk that I woke to yesterday morning. I clench my thighs together as I remember how his cock felt against my ass. I try to focus, but his words blur together.

“Now swing it down,” he interrupts my moment. I fling the ax down as hard as I can, trying to follow his guidance. I miss the log entirely. Instead, the steel head digs into the stump and the log wobbles over and falls into the snow. I try to grab the ax and yank it back out, but it’s biting into the wood deeper than I thought and I lose my grip. I flail my arms in wide circles as I fall back into the snow beside the completely untouched log I was supposed to chop.

“Smooth,” Sawyer laughs. “Hey, I have an idea, give me your phone and I’ll take a picture of this for you. I bet it’ll be a big hit with your online fans,” he laughs good naturedly.

“I’m good,” I laugh. “They can miss out on this one,” I try to roll over so I can push myself back up to my feet, but the deep snow has me rocking back and forth like a turtle on his shell.

Sawyer laughs harder, I’d be annoyed if it didn’t make me so happy to hear him enjoy himself for once. “You know what? I thought it was a good time to take a break anyway.” He chuckles and cannon balls into the snow next to me. White powder billows up into a mushroom cloud above us. It seems appropriate given the nuclear level of heat growing between us.

I giggle as he settles back in the snow with me.

“I’ve gotta admit it, it makes a comfortable seat.” I nod at the snow.

“Yeah, those must be hard to find with an ass like yours,” he muses. His eyes grow wide and his cheeks flush as he realizes the thought he just shared. “I mean, with your curves, not that I’ve been checking them out. Ugh,” he sputters, “I’m gonna shut up now,” he grimaces like his voice is physically painful to listen to.

“It’s ok. I’m glad you noticed me,” I let my eyes travel over his body lacking all subtlety. Right now, I say, fuck being subtle.

“So, the Catcher in the Rye is your favorite book?” He changes the subject.

The distraction works, I can’t help the goofy grin overtaking my face. “It is,” I gush. “I love it. I bet I’ve read it a hundred times.”

Sawyer looks at me closely. His face is a mixture of awe and cynicism. “Don’t get me wrong,” he chooses his words carefully, “but, you don’t exactly seem like a big believer in Holden Caulfield’s life philosophy,” he twists into the snow uncomfortably.

“No,” I agree, “you aren’t wrong. I don’t agree even a little with his view on everyone being phony like that’s a bad thing. But let me guess,” I smile, “you’re a subscriber.”

“Is it that obvious?” He teases me.

“Yeah, the whole ‘hermit in the woods’ thing you’ve got going on is a dead giveaway,” I giggle like I’ve had too much to drink. I feel that way too. Like a drunk flush has overtaken my senses and I’m indulging in my euphoria.

I lie back in the cold snow and enjoy the sensation against my skin. When is the last time I just enjoyed the outdoors? When is the last time I talked to someone about a book? I try not to let the thoughts rain on this moment with depression, instead revelling in the fact that I’m doing both now.

“Ahhh, I thought I was more of a mysterious stranger than a hermit. I guess I’ll have to work on my brand,” for once his words don’t have any barbs. It’s refreshing to have a lighthearted conversation with him. I love that he can be self-deprecating instead of always exchanging insults.

“I can see that. Mysterious stranger,” I repeat his preferred label. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t surprise me you’re a Holden Caulfield fan,” I muse.

“So, what’s your take on the book then?” He pressures me.

“Like what message do I get from it?” I flutter my eyelashes at him.

“Yeah.”

“I think Holden is right, there’s a whole lot of fake people out in the world,” I explain.

“Especially now,” Sawyer interrupts.

“Maybe. But the thing I think most people don’t see is you need to be a bit of a fake to get by. Ever heard of ‘fake it till you make it’?” I think back on how I had to do just that. I had to change my life. And it worked.

“That’s the exact opposite message you’re supposed to get from that novel,” he laughs.

“That might be true,” I admit, “but guess what?” Holden was the same holier-than-thou teenager who looked down on being phony so much that he ended up writing his book from a mental institution.” I throw out some facts most lovers of the book want to ignore. “Maybe if he would’ve learned to play nice, he would’ve had a happier life,” I counter.

“Fair enough,” the glint in Sawyer’s eyes tells me he doesn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth. But I know better. “Here, let me give you a hand,” he stands up and towers over me, holding out his palm. I surrender and reach up, grabbing him as he plucks me out of the snow like a feather.

I fall forward against his chest and his deep chuckle fades as he looks down at me. I look at his lips, begging them to kiss me without saying a word. My heart beats faster and blood rushes in my ears as he leans over, closer. He inches toward me and I close my eyes, ready to feel his lips on mine.

Sawyer holds me tight with one arm and twists to the side, yanking the ax out of the stump with his free hand. So much for a kiss, he was just trying to retrieve his tool. I blink with surprise, but don’t say a word.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got enough cut up here to get through the rest of today,” he reassures me softly, slinging the ax over his shoulder.

“Oh, good,” I manage to say.

“We should get back inside, it’s getting bad out here again,” he nods over my head at the increasing snowfall.

To be honest, I hadn’t noticed. To be honest, I don’t care. However, I’m not going to tell him that.

“Sure,” I agree, stepping back from his embrace. I grab some wood that he cut and pile it onto my arms. “I’ll help you bring this in then,” I stack it against my forearm.

“I don’t know how much more help I can take,” he laughs.

I stick my tongue out at him and scrunch up my nose.

“There you go, the perfect profile picture,” he teases me.

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes, but I don’t really mind. As we walk back to the cabin, I realize that I haven’t even checked my phone for signal yet today. I guess I’ve been too busy living in the moment to think about it. Not to mention the giant, hot distraction I’m following back inside.

I’ve never been around anyone who could make me forget about my Instagram account for… well, ever. As I try to hop into each of Sawyer’s wide footsteps, I realize that I’m happy he’s distracted me from the online world today. I’m enjoying the distraction. I’m enjoying his company. I look up at the fat snowflakes tumbling down from the sky and realize that I’m even enjoying being trapped in this terrible weather with him.