Snowed In (7 page)

Chapter ten

“NATE,” Quinn whispered, shaking Nate’s shoulder “Wake up. Nate!”

Nate startled, opening his eyes sharply, trying to focus them on something. “What?” He said groggily, rubbing a hand over his face.

“We need to go.” Quinn moved to switch the light on, momentarily blinding them both.

“What? Why?” He squinted, sitting up on the bed, the duvet falling off his body to reveal his naked chest. Quinn's eyes slid down Nate’s body, then back to his face. His hair was out of control, sticking in every which way, and Quinn couldn’t help but find it sexy.

Then again, he found everything about Nate sexy.

“Quinn!” Nate said, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What the fuck is going on? Why did you wake me in the middle of the night and now you’re spacing out on me?”

“Sorry.” Quinn shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track. “Brandon texted me just now saying they said on the news there’s a storm headed our way. We need to leave right now before it hits Interstate 15 or we’re fucked.”

“Shit,” Nate grumbled, getting out of bed. He headed for the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and Quinn heard the shower start a moment later.

By the time they both showered, dressed, and packed their bags, it was 6 AM. They grabbed breakfast and coffee in the hotel, and were on the road by six thirty. Warnings about the snow storm sounded from all radio stations in the car, and Quinn hoped they’d manage to outrun the worst of it and make it home today.

Nate drove the first stretch until they stopped for gas two hours later. The cold seeped through Quinn’s skin when he got out of the car. The temperature was much lower than usual for this time of the year in Utah. The sky was dark, the sun barely breaching the thick curtain of cloud.

The storm was coming, and fast, if the huge, black clouds in the distance were any indication. The wind was getting stronger, too, making Quinn shiver as he pumped gas into the car.

“Fuck,” Nate swore when he opened the door and stepped out of the car, stretching his arms above his head, then immediately wrapping them around his body. They both wore only thin cotton shirts, the heating in the car keeping them warm. “Looks like the fucking apocalypse is coming,” he added, jerking his chin towards the sky. “I’m going inside to get us coffee and snacks. Do you want anything specific?”

“Whatever you get is fine.”

The weather got even worse when they hit the road again. It was Quinn's turn to drive and he had to grip the steering wheel harder than usual to keep the car steady on the road against the strong wind. They were passing by Cedar City when it started to snow.

Not the fluffy, festive, making-kids-happy snow either. The snow that was hitting the windshield was vicious. Pieces of ice flew into the car, hitting it in every direction, making a sound so loud that Quinn worried they’d take Brandon’s car back to Denver full of tiny holes.

The wind didn’t let up, either. Handling the car grew more and more difficult. Quinn's heart clenched with fear.

“Fucking hell,” Nate said, looking out the window. “This isn’t good, Quinn.”

“No kidding,” Quinn murmured, not daring to lift his eyes off the icy road for a second. Despite the strong wind the snow was already piling on the road.

“What are we going to do? We can’t make it to Denver in this weather.” Nate sounded worried, his knee bouncing up and down in Quinn's peripheral vision.

“We need to find somewhere to spend the night, maybe even a couple of nights.”

According to the latest weather report on the radio, the storm was coming faster than initially anticipated, and it was growing in strength. Blizzard warning was issued for several states, including Utah and Colorado.

“Emery is about two hours from here. I think we can make it that far.”

Quinn felt Nate tense beside him. He knew he wouldn't like the idea. After all, they’d spent their first and only night together in the cabin, and Quinn had left without even saying goodbye. Not the ideal set of memories anyone would want to come back to.

But he also knew they had no other choice. Looking for some seedy motel in this weather would be a nightmare.

“Fine,” Nate said, his jaw clenched so tight that he barely got the word out.

“We’ll need supplies, though. We don’t have any food with us and we don’t know how long the storm will last.”

Quinn also hoped there was no damage to the cabin’s heating or water supply. He had no idea if the storm had already reached Emery or how bad it was there.

Nate didn’t reply, and he stayed mostly quiet for the rest of the drive. He offered Quinn to switch places and drive for a while, but Quinn declined. He was tired, but he was also used to the snow and the wind now, navigating the car slowly but surely through the storm. The snow didn’t let up one bit; if anything it was falling faster, the wipers working on full speed to clean the windshield.

The radio signal came and went, and so did the mobile network coverage. Nate managed to get a signal for a while, texting back and forth with his brother, updating him on the situation.

“Brandon says the cabin should be OK. They stayed there with Faith a few months ago and he says everything was working fine,” Nate said, his fingers tapping on his phone as he spoke. “He also sent me directions to the big WinCo Foods in the outskirts of Emery – I can’t get a good enough signal to load any maps.”

“How’s Faith and the baby?”

“He says they’re both fine. Faith’s still in the hospital, but they managed to stop the contractions for now. Bran says if she doesn’t get any for twenty four hours they’d let her go home.”

Finally, after what seemed like days instead of a couple hours, Quinn saw the big, glowing sign with the name of the supermarket. The parking lot was nearly empty, which was no surprise in this weather. Parking the car as close to the entrance as possible, Quinn switched off the engine, his head falling back against the seat. He exhaled loudly, relief flooding his body. They were nearly there. They’d be alright.

“You OK?” Nate asked, unbuckling his belt and turning to face him. Quinn hummed in reply, too exhausted to talk. “That was some driving you did.”

Yeah, it was, but he felt shattered. He couldn't wait to get to the relative safety of the cabin.

“I’ll go find our jackets,” Nate said, and before Quinn could protest he was out of the car. The trunk popped open and he heard Nate rummaging in their bags. A few moments later he knocked on Quinn's window, holding his jacket.

“Come on, let’s stock up on food and alcohol, and get this over with.”

Quinn shook his head in amusement, and jogged after Nate towards the supermarket.

*    *    *    *    *

The cabin was exactly as Quinn remembered it – wooden floors, bare brick walls, a huge L-shaped couch in front of the fireplace, small kitchen in the far corner. There were two bedrooms on Quinn's left, and a bathroom on his right. All doors were closed and the place was tidy and clean. Quinn switched the light in the living room and exhaled in relief when it blinked to life. The cabin’s heating and hot water system were electrically powered. Had it been down because of the storm they’d have been pretty screwed.

They left a puddle of melting snow as they walked back and forth, carrying their bags and the groceries. In the supermarket, Quinn went a bit overboard, filling their shopping cart with everything he could think they’d need – food, water, candles, batteries, books, personal hygiene items. Nate’d joked that Quinn was preparing for the zombie apocalypse instead of a snow storm, but Quinn preferred to be equipped for any scenario. They could always take whatever they didn’t use back to Denver.

“Right. I think that’s it,” Nate said as he dragged the last of the bags in, the door slamming behind him.

The snow had gotten even worse while they were in the supermarket, and the short drive to the cabin had been slow and dangerous. The small, winding road was completely covered in icy snow, the car fishtailing a few times despite Quinn's careful driving. Thank god there hadn’t been any other cars around.

“I could kill for a hot shower right now,” Quinn said, taking off his shoes and jacket, falling onto the couch.

“Let’s put away the groceries first. I don’t want any of the frozen stuff to melt.”

By the time they finished arranging everything in the fridge and the cupboards, Quinn was dead on his feet. He dragged his bags to one of the bedrooms and fell on the bed. Realizing it was bare, only covered with a quilt, Quinn groaned. The last thing he felt like doing was hunting down pillows, blankets and bed linen.

A chuckle from the door made him lift his head off the mattress. Nate was leaning against the frame, arms crossed over his chest.

“I just put clean towels and stuff in the bathroom. Go take a shower. I’ll take care of the beds,” Nate said, a gentle smile making his face look almost serene.

Quinn didn’t argue.

*    *    *    *    *

The wind howled outside, shaking the windows. Quinn jerked awake, his heart pounding. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was. Last thing he remembered was the unbearable pleasure of the hot water beating on his back, and then collapsing into the bed.

Pulse calming down, Quinn turned on his stomach, fluffed the pillow and tried to fall back to sleep. The wind shook the windows again, whistling and screeching as it blew even stronger than before. Quinn gave up on falling asleep any time soon and got up. Putting a pair of sweats and a t-shirt on, he made his way to the living room.

It was pleasantly warm in there, the fire slowly burning inside the fireplace, casting soft, amber shadows around the room. Nate was curled on the couch, his chest rising and falling as he slept. The blanket he’d covered himself with was lying at his feet. Quinn tiptoed to him, pulling the blanket fully on top of him. He stirred, but didn't wake.

Seeing Nate like this – curled into a ball, his hair like a dark halo around his face, his features softly relaxed – brought Quinn to his knees with the sudden wave of love crashing into his body. He brushed a curl off Nate’s forehead, the tips of his fingers grazing the skin of his cheekbone. Nate’s pink lips opened in a silent gasp, but he didn’t wake.

“I love you so much,” Quinn whispered, unable to stop himself. Placing a feathery kiss on Nate’s forehead, Quinn stood up and walked quietly back to his bedroom.

Chapter eleven

WHEN QUINN woke next, the storm was still going strong. Daylight seeped through the partially open curtains, making Quinn squint against it. Closing the curtains had been the last thing on his mind last night.

Turning on his side facing the window, Quinn watched the snow pile in the corners, then disperse like stardust when the unrelenting gust of wind blew it away. With a sigh, he stood up, looking for his phone in the bag next to the bed. It was nearly lunch time – he’d slept for over twelve hours.

The network coverage icon had a red cross over the empty bars.

“Great,” he murmured, before tossing the phone on the bedside table.

Sounds from the living room caught his attention and... Was that coffee he was smelling?

Barefoot and still wearing the sweats he’d put on in the middle of the night, Quinn followed the heavenly scent of coffee to the kitchen where Nate was making breakfast. He looked adorably domestic with his damp hair curling around his ears, wearing a similar pair of sweats as Quinn, and a white long sleeved t-shirt. The fluffy red socks on his feet – adorned with reindeers no less – made Quinn smile.

“Mornin’,” Nate said over his shoulder as Quinn sat at the table. “Coffee’s ready, but breakfast may take a few minutes. I’m hungry as fuck.”

Quinn's smile widened and he had to restrain himself from touching Nate as he made his way to the coffee machine. His eyes fluttered closed as he had the first sip of coffee. That new blend they’d bought last night was awesome, strong yet creamy.

“What are you making?”

“Eggs, toast, bacon – the whole shebang.” Nate scooped a piece of bacon from the pan onto one of the overflowing plates on the counter. “I’m starving.”

“No kidding,” Quinn said, his eyes landing on the ridiculous amount of food Nate had already made.

After breakfast Quinn washed the dishes while Nate built the fire. It started crackling pleasantly, making the room feel cosy in an instant. Quinn's eyes followed Nate as he walked to the window and leaned against it. Blowing hot air on the cold glass, he managed to draw a snowflake before it disappeared.

“Looks like it’s not letting up,” he said, gazing outside. He sounded...not worried exactly, more sad and resigned to their fate. “It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.” Nate turned to face Quinn who was drying his hands on a paper towel.

“I know.”

Nate held Quinn's gaze, the melancholy in his green eyes like a punch to Quinn's gut. Now that they were rested, fed, warm and safe, Nate’d probably had time to think about the last time they’d been here, just like Quinn. Images of their night together were on a constant loop on the back of Quinn's mind, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

He didn't know how to fix this.
Them.

“Do you have any news of Brandon? My phone has no coverage,” Nate said, turning away and staring out the window again. Quinn stepped closer, seeing that the snow was still piling up, the car barely a bump under the white blanket outside.

“Mine too.”

Nate sighed, blowing on the window again and drawing a star this time.

A gust of wind whirled some of the falling snow in a mini tornado before disappearing. Quinn had moved so close to Nate that he could feel the heat of his skin. He smelled of the tea tree shampoo they’d picked at the store, but the scent felt sweeter on him than it was in the bottle.

“Why did you leave, Quinn?” Nate asked, so quiet Quinn wouldn't have heard him if he wasn’t standing so close.

Fuck. He had to say it at some point, right? How did he expect Nate to forgive him if he didn’t know why Quinn left him in the first place?

Quinn's hesitation made Nate’s eyes darken with anger. “Why did you come back?” He asked, squaring his shoulders, the dare clear in his stare.

“For you,” Quinn said without missing a beat. Of that he was sure. No hesitation.

Nate took a step closer, his breath ghosting Quinn's skin as he spoke. “How do you expect me to believe that if you can’t tell me why you left? How do you expect me to ever trust you again if you don't trust me?”

Quinn swallowed drily. He was right, but that didn't change the fact that telling him why he left would hurt him.

“Kai... He was in a difficult situation and needed help. So I helped,” Quinn said, not breaking eye contact.

Nate looked confused for a moment. “Kai? Your roommate?”

“He wasn’t just my roommate. He was the only friend I had in Chicago. He took me in when nobody else would because I simply couldn’t afford the rent. He let me live in his spare room, rent free, for months until I managed to find a job and save enough money to pay him back.”

Nate’s eyes widened in surprise. Quinn had never told him about his difficult first few months in Chicago. With no scholarship, no job, and little savings, Quinn had nearly ended up on the streets. He’d met Kai in college – they’d shared some of the same classes – and instantly bonded with him. They had a lot in common – a father out of the picture, a mother who’d recently passed away, and, weirdly, a common love for 90s sitcoms. A Chicago native, Kai owned the small, two bedroom apartment, his childhood home his mother had worked all her life to pay off. He hadn’t hesitated to offer Quinn a place to stay when he’d seen that Quinn called a rundown hostel home.

“So, let me get this straight,” Nate said sharply, shaking Quinn out of his thoughts. The surprise was gone in his eyes, replaced by new-found anger. “I told you I loved you – that I’ve always loved you – and you fuck me, then cut all ties with me and disappear to help your
friend
with his little drama? Did you fuck him, too, Quinn? Is that what it was all about? I was your piece of ass on the side?”

The cruelty in his voice took Quinn aback. His own anger ignited inside him like an out of control firecracker.

“It was the right thing to do. Kai had no one,” he said, stepping into Nate’s personal space again. He pointed a finger in his face, barely keeping his temper in check. “And I know it’s hard to understand considering you’ve been coddled all your life, and your family is ready to walk through fire for you, but some people out there have nothing and nobody to count on. Kai’s life was never easy, but he didn't hesitate to help a virtual stranger like me. He was the most courageous and kind person I knew, with the biggest heart. So, yes, Nate, I did leave to be there for him because he had nobody else.”

“Was?”

“What?”

“Kai
was
the most courageous person you knew?”

“He died,” Quinn said, his voice cracking. The anger leeched out of him replaced by sadness, bone deep and suffocating. “He had a brain tumour. That was his little drama.”

Nate stumbled back in shock as if Quinn had slapped him. Exhaustion weighed heavy on Quinn, seeping into his body and mind. He hadn’t meant to erupt on Nate like that. None of this was his fault.

“Fuck,” Quinn swore, burying both his hands in his short hair. He couldn't take the shock and sadness in Nate’s eyes anymore, so he turned around and stomped to his bedroom without another word.

Quinn needed to calm down before he could talk about this again. Nate probably had a ton of questions, and Quinn was prepared to answer them, but not now. Now, his hands still shook with the memory of Kai’s broken body and empty stare.

*    *    *    *    *

Quinn must have drifted off because a soft knock on the door startled him. He sat up in the bed, his heart in his throat. The room was dark, no light seeping through the windows. The storm was still raging on, the dark clouds hiding the moon and the stars, the wind blowing the snow in all directions.

“Yeah,” he croaked, his throat dry. He was hungry and thirsty, and really fucking tired even though he’d slept more in the last twenty four hours than in the past week.

Nate opened the door, leaning against the frame. “Wanna come out and have some dinner?” His voice was purposefully neutral.

“Sure. Thanks.” He followed Nate to the living room where he’d set up the table with plates and glasses, something cooking on the stove.

“What are you making? Smells delicious.”

“Vegetable stew,” Nate said pointing at the pot on the stove. Then he pointed at the oven and the fridge in turn. “Wholemeal bread. Chocolate cake.”

Quinn stared at him, blinking a few times, trying to process the fact that Nate had cooked and baked, and made cake, for fuck’s sake.

“You made all of that?”

“Do you see anyone else here?” Nate stirred the stew, scooped a little with a wooden spoon and brought it to his mouth, blowing on the hot sauce. He tried it, licking his lips in appreciation. “Perfect.”

“How did you make all this? We didn’t buy any flour or sugar as far as I recall.” Quinn grabbed a glass from the table and filled it with water, gulping it all down greedily.

“Mom always keeps things like flour, sugar, long life milk, all kinds of jars and cans in the pantry. She makes sure they’re up to date every time she comes here. Turns out she also has cooking books in there and I needed something to do.”

Quinn nodded, noticing the shadows under Nate’s eyes. He must have had an exhausting afternoon making all this stuff. The kitchen was spotless, too, and the fire was recently stocked.

“Nate...” He began, but didn’t really know what to say.

“Look, can we have dinner first? We’ll talk, but let’s just sit down and enjoy a meal. I’m much more agreeable on a full stomach.” Nate’s lips twitched, and Quinn couldn’t help his own smile.

The stew was amazing, and so was the bread. Quinn helped himself to another portion of both after he wolfed down everything on his plate. His tummy was full, but the cake looked so good that he cut two pieces for Nate and himself. There was always room for cake, right?

“I’ll wash up and bring the cake over. You go lie down on the couch, OK?”

Nate didn’t even pretend to protest. He looked dead on his feet.

“Can you bring a cocktail with the cake, too?” Nate threw over his shoulder as he headed for the couch.

“What do you want?”

“Whatever. Make it strong.”

Fifteen minutes later Quinn joined him, carrying the cake and two glasses of vodka and orange juice. The fire played with the logs in the hearth, seemingly caressing them with its loving flames.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nate asked, taking the glass and plate from Quinn. “Before you left, why didn't you say anything? I would’ve...”

Quinn sat down, too, facing him. “You would have what, Nate? Packed your bags and come with me?”

The hurt in Nate’s eyes made him regret the sharp tone of his voice.

“Is that so bad?”

“Yes! It’s the worst thing that would have happened! I’d rather you spend the rest of your life hating me than be there while I watched Kai die.”

Nate left the glass on the coffee table and tucked a foot underneath his leg, propping his arm on the back cushion.

“So you made a decision for both of us? I was given no choice in the matter? Or did you think I couldn’t handle it?”

Nate’s tone was defensive, but Quinn heard the pain underneath.

“It’s easy saying that when you don’t know what it’s like to watch someone slowly die. Do you have any idea what it’s like to look someone in the eyes and see them slowly slipping away every day? Clean their vomit, and bathe them, and feed them like a child? Pretend to be their mother or father or whoever they were fucking seeing instead of you?”

Quinn whispered the last words, so fucking sick of arguing. He knew in his heart that he’d made the right choice leaving Nate out of it, but he also knew that a part of Nate would probably never forgive him.

They didn’t speak for a while. Nate turned away and watched the fire with great concentration, but his posture wasn’t defensive or angry anymore. He looked simply tired.

“Tell me about him,” Nate said quietly, still staring at the fire.

Quinn took a sip of his drink and filled his lungs with a deep breath before speaking.

“A week before I was supposed to come visit for Brandon and Faith’s graduation weekend, Kai said I had to move out. We’d lived together for three years by then and I can safely say that, besides you and Brandon, he was my closest friend. So kicking me out without any reason was so sudden and out of character that I knew something was wrong. I cornered him that day and he broke down, saying he’d been diagnosed with inoperable brain tumour. He wanted me to leave him, Nate. Just fucking leave him to die alone. He had no family and barely any friends, definitely nobody as close as we were.” Quinn paused to gather his thoughts. They’d scattered all over the place as memories of Kai’s face, distorted in anguish as he begged Quinn to leave him, invaded his mind. “I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t have been able to just pack my bags and go live my life knowing a person I cared about was suffering. Spending his last days alone and in pain.”

Quinn felt the couch cushion dip as Nate moved closer to him, clasping his hand in his. Lifting his head he saw Nate was looking at him, sympathy swimming in his damp green eyes.

“Why did you...” Nate began, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Why did you let me drag you to bed if you knew you were leaving? If you didn’t want me to go with you, why did you say you loved me? Why did you allow me to...” A tear rolled down Nate’s cheek and he hastily swiped it away. “Fuck.”