Page 21 of Alaska Lights

Heat washes over me. If I wasn’t so tan, I’d wonder if he’d see me blushing.

Blushing.

Unbelievable.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Alaska…?”

His smile falters, and he drops his hand from mine. “Just Alaska, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me your last name⁠—”

“—It’s because I don’t have one. It’s just Alaska,” he snaps, looking away from me as if that information is something to be ashamed of. “Feel free to rest as long as you want. Bad storms are rolling in, so you might be stuck here anyway.” He places the black cowboy hat on his head and stares at something behind me. He lifts his hand and points his finger. “Bathroom is there. When you’re ready, meet us in the kitchen. I’ll give you a tour, or Soren can, whatever, whoever you want to give you the…” He loses his breath, and his words get quieter the longer he speaks. “…the tour,” he finishes.

This mystery man, this cowboy, saved my life, and he can’t figure out what to say?

He chuckles, then clears his throat as he shakes his head. “I’ll give you some space.”

“Wait—” Before I can stop him, he turns around and runs smack into the door.

His forehead hits with such a loud thud that a crater forms in the paneling. Wood splinters and cracks up the frame. Alaska stands there, his shoulders rising and falling.

I slap my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. It isn’t funny, but I don’t do well in awkward situations. My gut reaction is to laugh. I don’t know this man. He could kill me and get away with it since he lives in the middle of nowhere.

“Are you okay?” I’m proud of myself for sounding so concerned. I mean, I am concerned. I care that he ran into the door. I know that had to hurt. The urge to laugh still burns though. Right there in the middle of my gut.

“I’m fine.” He rolls his head over his broad shoulders, the shirt stretched across his wide frame.

Broad shoulders? Wide frame?

Why am I noticing this?

He’s a big guy, that’s all.

I lick my lips when the voice in the back of my head whispers, “I wonder how big?”

He growls, smashing the door against the wall. His cowboy boots stomp against the hardwood floor. The loud creak of another door opening sounds.

My rescuer yells, “Fuck!”

I jump, a little startled and confused.

Very confused.

The door slams shut again, reminding me I’m alone in an unknown place.

I fall onto my back, my head hitting the pillow, and I stare up at the ceiling. There are parts of my body that ache and are sore from the crash. I should be dead.

How am I not?

“Knock. Knock.”

I lift onto my elbows to see a guy standing there with a bright smile. His hair is light brown, a bit long on top with a slight curl on the ends.

“Sorry to intrude. I’m Soren.” He steps forward, holding out his hand.

I sit up, shaking his hand too, and the first thing I notice is that his skin isn’t as rough as Alaska’s, or how much I wish it was Alaska’s I was holding instead of his.

What is going on with me? I had to have hit my head in the crash. I’ve never been sexually attracted to a man.