Snowbound

You nod, your jaw tight. “The investigation,” you agree. “I haven’t changed my mind, Colby. I can’t. Not until I have answers.”

He’s silent for a long moment, his body tense against yours. Then, slowly, he pulls away, sitting up, running a hand through his hair. “I know,” he says, his voice low. “I wouldn’t ask you to.” He takes a breath, meeting your eyes, his expression serious. “But I need you to know something. I need you to understand.”

You sit up too, pulling the sheet up to cover your lap, your heart pounding in your chest. “Understand what?” you ask, your voice guarded.

Colby looks away, his jaw working, his hands clenching in the sheets. “The things you’re investigating,” he says finally, his voice rough. “The things you think I’ve done. They’re not what they seem.”

You stare at him, your mind reeling, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice barely above a murmur.

Colby takes a breath, meeting your eyes, his expression serious. “The things you’re investigating,” he says again, his voice low. “They’re not what they seem. I didn’t do what you think I did.”

You shake your head, your jaw tight. “I have evidence, Colby. Emails, financial records, witness statements. It all points to you.”

He nods, his eyes holding yours. “I know it does. And I know how it looks. But there’s more to the story. Things I couldn’t tell you before.”

You frown, your mind racing. “What things?” you demand, your voice sharp. “What are you talking about?”

Colby hesitates, his eyes dropping to his hands, his fingers knotting in the sheets. “I was being blackmailed,” he says finally, his voice rough. “By someone inside the company. They threatened to expose things about my past if I didn’t cooperate.”

You stare at him, your breath halting in your throat. “What things?” you ask, your voice hushed.

He looks up, meeting your eyes, his expression raw. “Things I’m not proud of,” he says, his voice low. “Things I’ve worked hard to put behind me. But they had proof, and they were going to use it to destroy me.”

You shake your head, your mind reeling. “So you let them use you instead,” you say, your voice flat. “You let them turn you into a criminal.”

Colby flinches, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t have a choice,” he says, his voice rough. “Or at least, I didn’t think I did. I was scared, Milo. I panicked.”

You look away, your stomach churning, your thoughts a chaotic mess. You want to believe him, want to trust that there’s more to the story than what you’ve uncovered. But you’ve been burned before, been lied to by men like Colby, men who’d say anything to save their own skin.

“You should have come to me,” you say finally, your voice low. “You should have told me the truth from the beginning.”

Colby sighs, his hand reaching for yours, his fingers lacing through yours. “I know,” he says, his voice quiet. “And I’m sorry. I should have trusted you. I should have been honest.”

You let him hold your hand, your thumb grazing his knuckles, your mind still racing. “So what now?” you ask, your voice rough. “What happens next?”

Before he can answer, your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new notification. You reach for it, your heart pounding in your chest, your stomach clenching with dread.

You unlock the screen, your eyes scanning the message, your blood running cold. "Fuck," you breathe, your voice hushed.

Colby sits up, his arm brushing yours, his eyes searching your face. “What is it?” he asks, his voice low. “What’s wrong?”

You look up, meeting his gaze, your expression grim. “It’s my editor,” you say, your voice rough. “She wants to move the story up. The exposé is running tomorrow.”

You stare at the message, your stomach churning. Colby’s arms tighten around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“What are you going to do?” he murmurs.

You shake your head, your throat tight. “I don’t know,” you say finally, your voice rough. “I need to call her. Try to stall.”

Colby nods, his hands squeezing your hips. “Do it,” he says, his voice firm. “I’ll be here.”

You take a breath, setting the phone down, turning in his arms to face him. “And what about us?” you ask, your voice quiet. “What happens when we get back to the real world?”

Colby’s expression softens, his hand coming up to brush your cheek, his thumb grazing your lower lip. “We figure it out,” he says, his voice quiet. “Together. Whatever comes next, we face it together.”

You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed. “Promise?” you whisper.

“Promise,” he breathes, his mouth skimming yours.

You kiss him back, slow and deep. He responds in kind, his arms wrapping around you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless. “We should go,” you murmur, your voice rough. “The plows will be here soon.”

Colby nods, his eyes holding yours, a soft smile at the corner of his mouth. “One more thing,” he says, his voice low, mischievous.

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He grins, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, lifting you easily. “One more trip down the stairs,” he says, his voice rough. “For old times’ sake.”

You laugh, the sound bright, your arms wrapping around his neck. “You’re incorrigible,” you murmur.

He shivers, his grip on you tightening. “You love it,” he breathes.

You do. God help you, you do.

He carries you out of the bedroom. The cabin is quiet, the storm having passed.

Colby navigates the narrow staircase with ease. You cling to him, your face buried in his neck.

At the bottom of the stairs, he sets you down. You look up at him, your eyes searching his.

He smiles, soft and sweet. “Whatever happens,” he murmurs, “I’m glad I met you, Milo Torres.”

You swallow hard, your heart clenching. “Me too,” you whisper. “Me too, Colby Cassin.”

He leans down, brushing a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark and intense.

“Ready?” he asks.

You nod, your throat tight, your hand finding his. “Ready.”

Together, you step out into the cold morning. The road ahead is uncertain, but for now, with Colby’s hand warm in yours, you let yourself hope.

Can two men from such different worlds find a way forward? You don’t know. But as you walk hand-in-hand with Colby Cassin, you can’t help but wonder: is this the start of something real?