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Ten levels past murderous rage. That’s what I feel about the situation. I’m probably going a little too fast as I fly toward the hotel with Chloe in the passenger seat of the Jeep. I just need to get more distance between her and that awful neighbor.

“They can’t do anything until something else happens,” I seethe at the sentiment. “What kind of justice is that? They want to wait until you’re in the guy’s freezer or some shit?”

Chloe reaches over for my hand. I look at her. She is clearly overwhelmed. I take a breath to calm myself. “I’m sorry. That just really scared me.”

“Me too.” She manages an ironic chuckle.

“If anything happened to you Chloe… I don’t know what I’d do.”

She doesn’t reply to that. Instead, she stares out the window.

Back at the hotel, I steer her to our room and order up plates of comfort food. Mac and cheese, chicken tenders, and fresh baked cookies.

Chloe changes into a pair of oversized sweatpants and crawls under the blankets as we wait.

I sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do to help her.

The last time I felt this helpless, I was standing beside Sarah in the hospital, shouting for someone to do something.

That image overloads me completely, to my breaking point. With no warning, I burst into tears. Sobs wrack through me as I bury my face in my hands, shoulders heaving with the effort.

Chloe leaps to my side and wraps her arms around me. She doesn’t say anything for a while. I try my best to compose myself and choke all that pain back down. I’m not sure I manage to really bury it again, but I at least stop myself from bawling my eyes out.

She brings me a tissue, and I wipe my face. “I didn’t want you to see that,” I admit.

I manage to look her in the eye. “Leave it to you to make my drama your drama,” she teases, and I chuckle lightly.

“I was thinking about Sarah.” I whisper the words. If I say them too loud, I might start crying again.

“What about her?” Chloe asks in a sweet tone.

“How useless I felt when she was dying in the hospital, and I couldn’t do anything to save her.”

Chloe’s face twists in sympathy. She purses her lips and shakes her head. “That must have been awful.”

“I had that same feeling today when I saw you leap from the ladder, your neighbor looking down at you like you were prey that got away. He could have killed you.”

She sighs. “I am going to get better security, believe you me.”

I shake my head. “I want to protect you, and I can’t do it from Alaska.”

Chloe smiles brightly. “It’s not your job to protect me,” she says with a confidence I don’t share. “I got this.”

“I want it to be my job.” I admit the words that I’ve been pushing down all week. “I’m probably an asshole for saying that. Or a weirdo. But it’s how I feel.”

When I look up at her, she has an impassive expression on her face.

“Say something,” I beg. I don’t even know what I want her to say.

“Thank you?” she asks, obviously unsure how to react to my absurdity. She giggles then, and I manage a small smile. This woman who just faced down a terrifying situation is already smiling and laughing and cheering me up about it. She is strong and resilient as hell.

“Leaving you is going to be awful,” I inform her. “I love my friends and my home in Port Providence, and I thought I was going to hate every single second in L.A., but now I can’t imagine flying away from here.”

Chloe shakes her head. “You’re not in your right mind. This whole thing today has you freaked out. Got you stuck in hero mode. That’s all. I’ll get mace, cameras, and better locks soon, and everything will be just fine.”

Maybe there is a little part of what she’s saying that’s right. Still, I would be stupid to pretend my feelings for Chloe haven’t bloomed this week. We’re more than friends now. It may be the last thing on earth I expected, but I need to face reality.

I’ve tried to convince myself that I don’t need love. That it hurts too much to lose someone you care about, but tonight has proven that it hurts too much not to have her in my life.

Even if I want to have something more with her, though, the reality is we live thousands of miles apart. I can’t very well ask her to give up her life and move away with me after a week of fake dating. And I know I can’t bring myself to leave the wilderness and move to L.A. That thought makes my skin crawl.

My spiraling thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. Room service brings in our trays, and we sit at the edge of the bed to eat and watch some television. Chloe flicks through the channels and then stops on a show with a laugh. “Well, I’ll be,” she remarks.

“What?” I ask as I shove half of a crispy chicken tender into my mouth.

“It’s our show.” She smirks.

“No,” I groan and cover my eyes. “I don’t want to see this. I already had a bad-enough day.”

“Come on. It might feel good to look at something familiar,” she urges.

Only because Chloe has had a horrible day, I give in and watch. The camera angle on the screen is from above, and it must be the drone footage of Port Providence. It’s absolutely breathtaking to see from that vantage point.

The images do make me long a bit for home. If anything, the safety of being in a town with people I can trust sounds like heaven on earth.

“Bet you can’t wait to get home now,” she says around a mouthful of mac and cheese.

I stab my fork into her bowl and steal a bite. “Maybe just a little. Does it make you want to run away and live there too?” I ask hopefully.

She scrunches her nose. “I know I’m strong and scrappy to some degree, but I would have no clue where to start when it comes to building a cabin and all that. I’d be a burden.”

“Not if you stayed with someone,” I hint not-so-subtly.

She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re just suffering from savior syndrome. That will wear off soon, and you’ll remember that you like being alone with your thoughts in the wilderness.”

I don’t think she’s right on that score, but instead of arguing with her, I lean over and kiss her. I half expect her to push me away, but instead she pushes me backward, our food trays clattering to the floor in a mess. Not that I give a damn, because Chloe is straddling me and kissing me with an intense confidence.

We’re suddenly frantic like rabbits, tugging at each other’s clothes, rolling every which way to jockey for position. Our kisses are sloppy and fervent, tongues lapping against each other.

Chloe’s hand immediately starts stroking me, and I reach between her thighs to feel her, and damn, she’s just as excited as I am.

As our naked forms writhe and intertwine, Chloe shifts up onto my lap as I lie on my back.

I guide her hips and roll her over me as our tongues swipe. I’m aligned between her legs, and she moans softly at the sensation. She starts to work with me then, grinding over my length, rubbing me against her entrance.

Every time she reaches my tip, I fight the urge to arch into her by clenching all the muscles in my legs. Her hands tangle in my hair and tug at the short strands.

We’re moaning into each other’s mouths, panting and desperate. Should I push things further? I want to with every inch of my being. I’m ready now. Chloe has made me ready. She has melted all my icy walls into warm puddles of want. To take her home with me. To take care of her. Hell, to take her right here and now in any way I can.

“Chloe,” I rasp pointlessly, as if she may know all the questions in my mind, just by the way I say her name.

She pushes up on her hands and looks at me. Her eyes wander down to where we connect. My cock is against my belly, the tip just barely visible each time she slides across me.

Her eyes search mine in question. “I want you inside me,” she says suddenly, breaking the silence. I practically sail over the edge at her words. It’s what I want too, in spades I want it… burying myself inside of her, claiming her, making her eyes flutter in pleasure. Fuck.

“Chloe.” I say her name in a warning tone. I’m doing my best to hold myself back, while everything she does spurs me on.

She closes her eyes and deepens each thrust of her hips, and she brings us impossibly close. I could breach her at any moment.

“Please,” she begs in a throaty voice that claws at me.

Turning Chloe down would just about break me. It’s a delicate situation. I don’t want her to think I don’t want her. That’s not it at all. I want every inch of her. But tomorrow is my last day here, then what happens?

“I’m too close,” I half-lie. It’s not like I’m really that far off, and if I had to guess, she isn’t either. Plus, I don’t want her first time to involve a pile of mac and cheese on the floor.

In any case, my words seem to please her, and she quickens her pace as she grinds on me. We’re both sweating from the effort now, and things are getting pleasantly slippery between us.

Reaching up to her breasts, I brush my thumbs lightly over her nipples, and she arches back on a moan. “Oh my god. Oh my god,” she mumbles on repeat through fast breaths.

As she gets that jerky rhythm going, I know she’s there, and I let myself follow her. The heat races through my spine, my sac tightening as I throb through my release.

Chloe looks down at the mess. “Wow,” she hums.

I smirk. “That doesn’t gross you out?”

“Does it gross out some women?” she questions.

“Some, I suppose,” I answer to the best of my knowledge.

“I think it’s pretty hot, actually.” Her cheeks flush redder.

“No rush, but you might offer me a towel whenever you get a chance.” I chuckle.

She reaches over and grabs my t-shirt and cleans me up. The sight of her working is pretty damn sexy.

I pull her down on me when she finishes and hold her. Each breath I take, I inhale her. “I don’t want this moment to ever end,” I admit, even though I haven’t the slightest idea how to make it last.