Kat’s POV
Nate kicked our bedroom door shut with his foot, his arms still wrapped around me as I shivered violently against his chest.
My teeth chattered so hard I could barely speak.
“N-Nate, I’m f-fine,” I managed to stammer, but my body betrayed me with another violent shudder.
“Like hell you are,” he said, setting me down on the bed with surprising gentleness. “We need to get you out of these wet clothes. Now.”
“I can do it myself,” I protested.
But when I tried to grab the hem of my soaked sweater, my fingers wouldn’t cooperate. They were numb, clumsy, useless.
“No, you can’t,” Nate said firmly, stepping closer. “Kat, you’re hypothermic. Stop being stubborn and let me help you.”
“But I’m not— We’re not actually—”
“I don’t care what we are or aren’t,” he interrupted, his hands already reaching for my sweater. “You’re freezing to death, and I’m not letting that happen to you.”
His fingers brushed mine as he gently pushed my hands away, and I felt heat flood my cheeks despite the cold.
“Close your eyes if it makes you feel better,” he said softly, “but these clothes are coming off. Right now.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as he carefully pulled my sweater over my head, his movements respectful but efficient. When his hands moved to the waistband of my jeans, I grabbed his wrists.
“I can’t,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice gentle but unwavering. “Trust me, Kat. I’m not looking at anything I shouldn’t. I’m simply trying to keep you safe.”
The wet denim clung to my legs as he helped me out of my jeans, and I kept my eyes firmly closed, mortification burning through me even as my body continued to shake. When he wrapped a dry towel around me, I finally opened my eyes to find him already turning away, giving me privacy.
“Get changed while I run you a hot bath,” he said, his back to me.
I heard him turn on the faucet in the bathroom, followed by a string of creative curses. I only had time to put on a new pair of underwear when I heard his footsteps and sprinted under the covers.
“No water,” he said, appearing in the doorway with a frustrated expression. “I’ll go check what’s wrong with the plumbing.”
He left me alone in the room, pulling covers up to my chin. But even though it was already dry and under blankets, I couldn’t stop shaking. The cold seemed to have settled into my bones, and every breath felt like ice crystals forming in my lungs.
That’s when the memories hit me.
Liam’s face above me as he pulled me from the water. The way his voice had been rough with concern. The feel of his strong arms hauling me to safety.
The look in his green eyes—like he was genuinely afraid for me.
Why had he been the one to save me? Why had he risked himself to get me out of the water?
The door opened, and Nate returned, shaking his head grimly.
“Marcus says the pump is out of order. No water until the plumber comes tomorrow morning.” He looked at me huddled under the blankets, and his expression grew alarmed. “Jesus, Kat, you’re still freezing.”
“I’m f-fine,” I lied, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely form words.
Nate crossed the room in two strides and started pulling his shirt over his head.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I sat up straighter, clutching the blankets to my chest.
“Getting in bed with you before you freeze to death,” he said matter-of-factly, tossing his shirt aside. “Body heat is the fastest way to warm someone up”
“Nate, we can’t—”
“We can and we will,” he said, unbuttoning his jeans.
I squeezed my eyes shut as he stripped down to his boxers, but I could hear the rustle of fabric, the soft thud of clothes hitting the floor. The mattress dipped as he climbed into bed beside me.
“Come here,” he said, his voice gentle but commanding.
The second his warm skin touched mine, I gasped with relief. Without thinking, I pressed closer, seeking more of that blessed heat.
His arms came around me, pulling me against his strong chest, and I tangled my legs with his, desperate to absorb every bit of warmth he offered.
“Better?” he asked, his breath warm against my hair.
“God, yes,” I breathed, melting into him. His hands stroked my back in slow, soothing circles, and I let out a soft moan of relief.
The heat from his body was intoxicating.
I found myself pressing closer, my hips moving against his without conscious thought, soft sounds escaping my lips as warmth finally began to seep back into my bones.
“Kat,” Nate said, his voice strained. “You need to—”
But I was lost in the sensation, the blessed relief of finally being warm. I ground against him again, and his sharp intake of breath cut through the haze in my mind.
“Katya, stop,” he said more firmly, his hands gripping my hips. In one smooth motion, he rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him. “You need to stay still.”
“What?” I looked down at him, confused by the sudden change in position.
“I promised I wouldn’t touch you,” he said, his voice rough. “But I’m still a man, and you’re a beautiful, half-naked girl grinding against me. So unless you want this fake relationship to become very real very fast, you need to stop moving against me.”
The meaning of his words hit me like a physical blow. Heat that had nothing to do with hypothermia flooded my cheeks as I realized what I’d been doing, what I’d been making him feel.
“Oh god,” I whispered, mortified. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
The door burst open without warning.
Liam stood in the doorway, his eyes taking in the scene—me straddling Nate’s bare chest, both of us flushed and breathing hard.
For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody spoke.
Then I buried my face in Nate’s chest, wishing I could disappear entirely.
“Having fun, I see?” Liam asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Something sailed through the air, and Nate caught it smoothly—a heating pad.
“Thought you might need this,” Liam said, his tone mocking. “Though it looks like you two have the warming-up situation well in hand.”
“Thanks, brother,” Nate said tightly, his arms tightening around me protectively.
“Don’t mention it,” Liam replied. “Wouldn’t want the lovebirds to catch a cold.”
When the door slammed shut behind him, I groaned into Nate’s chest. “I want to die.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Nate said, his hand stroking my hair. “He’s just being an ass.”
But I could hear something in his voice—tension, anger, something darker that I couldn’t identify.
The next morning, I woke up warm and surprisingly rested, still wrapped in Nate’s arms. True to his word, he’d been a perfect gentleman, holding me close but never taking advantage of our intimate position.
“Feeling better?” he asked, his voice husky with sleep.
“Much,” I admitted, though I made no move to disentangle myself from his embrace.
We spent the day inside, everyone too concerned about my near-drowning to venture back onto the ice. The house filled with the sounds of conversation and laughter, but I couldn’t shake the weight of Liam’s stare.
Every time I looked up, he was watching me with those intense green eyes, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at me in bed with Nate.
“Let’s play Seven Minutes in Heaven!” announced Sarah, one of the figure skaters, holding up an empty bottle.
Several people groaned, but others perked up with interest. Marcus and a few others headed to the living room for beer pong, but enough people stayed to make a circle.
“I’m in,” I said quickly, not wanting to seem like a prude in front of my new friends.
The bottle spun, landing on couples who disappeared into the hall closet amid cheers and catcalls.
My heart hammered as I waited for my turn, wondering what it would be like to be alone with Nate for the whole seven minutes.
“Nate!” Marcus called from the living room. “Can you help me move this table?”
“Be right back,” Nate said, squeezing my hand before leaving.
The bottle spun again, and this time it landed on me. Of-fucking-course.
Sarah spun it a second time to choose my partner, and my blood turned to ice as it slowed, wobbled, and finally stopped.
Pointing directly at Liam.
“Ooh, this should be interesting,” someone said, but their voice sounded miles away.
Liam stood slowly, his green eyes locked on mine. “Come on, Princess,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Seven minutes in heaven as they said.”
The closet door closed behind us with a soft click, plunging us into darkness.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke, the tension so thick I could barely breathe.
“So,” Liam said finally, his voice a low rumble in the darkness. “Having fun playing house with my brother?”
“It’s not playing house,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
“Isn’t it?” He stepped closer, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body in the small space. “The perfect girlfriend, the loving couple, the whole charade. You’re quite the actress, Princess.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It’s what you are, isn’t it? Rich girl with daddy’s money, skating through life on your reputation.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I hissed, anger flaring in my chest.
“I know enough,” he said, stepping even closer. I could feel his breath on my face now, warm and intimate in the darkness. “I know you’re using my brother.”
“I’m not—”
“And I know you’re playing games you don’t even understand,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “With people you can’t control.”
“Like you?”
The question hung in the air between us, charged with something dangerous and electric. I could hear his breathing, feel the heat of his body just inches from mine.
“Yeah, Princess,” he said, his voice rough as he stepped closer and placed his hands on the both sides of my head, leaning closer and closer. “Like me.”
I felt him lean even closer, felt my own heartbeat in my throat, the heat pooling heavy in my belly. Felt the whisper of his breath against my lips.
My heart hammered against my ribs as the space between us disappeared inches by inches—before the closet door burst open, flooding us with light.
“Having fun with my girlfriend?” Nate’s voice was deadly calm, but I could hear the fury underneath.
Liam straightened slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Just having a conversation.”
“I bet you were.” Nate’s hand found my arm, pulling me from the closet. “Time’s up, brother.”
The word ‘brother’ sounded like a curse, and I could feel the violence simmering just beneath the surface as the two of them faced off.
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