Play With Me ✔️|| 2 || Off the Ice Series

17 | Jason

The storm hits us out of nowhere.

One minute, the sky is clear, and the next, it's an angry, churning mass of black clouds. The wind whips through the trees, howling like a banshee, and the first fat drops of rain splatter against the sand. We barely have time to grab the small amount of stuff we'd gathered and hightail it towards the hut.

The rain comes down in sheets, drenching us to the bone within seconds. I grab Arden's hand, pulling her forward, but the wind is so strong that it nearly knocks us off our feet. We stumble inside, breathless and soaked, shivering against the aggressive wind.

"Jesus," Arden mutters, hugging her arms around herself. Her clothes are plastered to her skin, her hair dripping wet, and I can see the goosebumps rising on her arms. "Where the hell did this come from?"

I don't have an answer. All I can do is check to make sure the hole in the roof is covered, hoping the hut survives the storm. The storm is relentless, pounding against the flimsy shelter with a fury that makes me wonder if it's going to hold.

"Get closer," I tell her, pulling her against me. The shelter is small, but if it goes down, I want to make sure she's shielded from the worst of it.

She doesn't argue, just presses herself against me, her body shaking with the cold. I wrap my arms around her, trying to keep her as warm and dry as possible, since we can't light a fire with nowhere for the smoke to go but it's a losing battle.

The storm outside rages like it's trying to tear the island apart. Wind and rain slam against the hut, making the makeshift walls shudder with every gust. Each crack of thunder feels like it's right on top of us, the vibrations humming through the ground beneath us.

Arden's shivering so hard I can feel it, her body trembling against mine despite my efforts to warm her. She's soaked through, her braided hair plastered to her face, and her teeth are chattering so loudly it drowns out some of the storm.

"We need to get warm," I say again, my voice soft but firm.

Her gaze flicks up to mine, her eyes wide and uncertain. "How? We can't build a fire."

"Body heat," I answer, keeping my tone as steady as I can. "Just for tonight. I promise, I'm not trying anything."

Arden studies me, her lips pressed together, her breathing uneven. For a moment, I think she's going to argue, but then she nods. "Okay." Her voice is barely above a whisper. "Same rules," she adds after a pause, a faint attempt at humour breaking through her shivering. "No peeking."

I can't help the faint curve of a smile that tugs at my lips, despite the situation. "No peeking. Promise."

She turns away from me, her movements slow and deliberate as she peels off her soaked shirt and pants. The fabric clings to her skin, making it difficult to remove, and I quickly turn my back to give her as much privacy as the small space allows, swallowing hard.

My fingers fumble as I work on my own clothes, the cold biting into my skin as I shed the wet layer of my pants. Once I'm down to my boxers - they're wet but they'll be staying on - I glance over my shoulder to check on her. She's wrapped her arms around herself, her back to me, trembling even harder now that she's shed the last layer of protection.

"Here," I murmur, settling down onto the tarp we've been using as a bed. I pat the space beside me, keeping my eyes trained on her face.

Arden hesitates, then carefully lowers herself onto the mat. I reach around her slowly, so as not to startle her and fold her into my body, her back pressing against my chest.

She stiffens, but after a few moments, she relaxes, leaning back into my chest. Her hair smells like rain and salt, and her skin is cold enough to make me wince.

"This is so weird," she mutters, her voice muffled against the crook of my arm.

"Survival's not supposed to be glamorous," I reply, trying to keep it light.

She huffs a soft laugh, but it turns into a shiver. Instinctively, I pull her closer, letting my hands rest against her arms, trying to rub some warmth into her skin.

"Thank you," she whispers after a while.

"For what?"

"For not making this weirder than it already is."

I smile faintly, even though she can't see it. "You're welcome."

We lie there in silence, the storm continuing to rage around us, but with her in my arms, it feels less like the world is ending and more like we just might make it through the night.

She turns in my arms, and then we're facing chest to chest and I keep my eyes on her face.

"We'll be alright." I hush.

She nods, but I can tell she's not convinced. Hell, I'm not even convinced. Neither one of us knows what we're doing.

But right now, all I care about is keeping her safe, keeping her close. The storm rages on outside, but in here, with her pressed against me, there's a strange kind of calm. A sense of purpose that goes beyond survival.

She shifts in my arms, her head tilting back to look up at me, and I can see the worry in her eyes. But there's something else too, something that makes my breath catch in my throat. The way she's looking at me, like she's seeing me for the first time, like she's realizing something that I've known for a while now but then she blinks, and it's gone.

"Jason," she whispers, and I can barely hear her over the roar of the storm. "What are we doing?"

Her eyes search mine, and I can see the conflict in them, the fear and uncertainty. But there's something else too, something that makes my heart pound in my chest.

She lifts her hand, her fingers brushing against my cheek. The touch is light, but it sends a shockwave through me, like electricity sparking between us. I lean into her touch, my breath catching as she traces the line of my jaw, her eyes never leaving mine before her touch becomes more insistent.

"What do you want?" she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper.

It's a loaded question, one that I'm not sure I can answer without crossing a line that she drew in the sand. But the truth is, I want her. I've wanted her from the moment I met her. I want her because she's Arden, because she's strong and fierce and complicated, and because she's the only thing that's keeping me grounded right now.

But I can't say that, not when I know how fragile this moment is, how easily it could break.

So instead, I say the only thing I can, the only truth that I can give her right now.

"I want you to be safe," I say, my voice low and rough. "I want you to trust me."

Her eyes soften, and I can see the tension in her shoulders ease just a little. She nods, and her hand drops from my cheek, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she leans in closer, her head resting against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her as the storm rages on outside.

For a long time, we just sit there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten.

She shifts beside me, breathing out a rough sigh. "Do you think they're still looking for us?"

The words catch me off guard and I stare at her face, searching it for answers to her thoughts even as she keeps her gaze locked away from mine.

"Yes." I say, "they won't give up, it's only been-" I mentally count the days in my head, but it's hard. They all tend to blur together. "Ten days."

Her eyes flicker between mine and for a second I think she wants to kiss me but then she's glancing away and twisting again until her back is to my chest once more.

I sigh, curling my arms tighter around her even though all I want to do is twist her back around and kiss the stubborn streak out of her.

"Go to sleep, I've got you." I say quietly, trying to relax.