The cold chilled my bones instantly as I stepped outside. The ice and snow covered everything, touched everything, froze everything. Rubbing m hands together, I blew hot breath onto my fingers, trying to get the blood circulating again. My breath was a frozen cloud that ghosted over my pale skin as soon as it left my mouth. The blizzard had lasted almost three days and the power had cut off two nights ago. I had to take a steak knife to the ice-covered firewood in the backyard to put something in the fireplace, and even then it was a bit soggy.

Pulling a box of Marlboro's from my pocket, I slip one into my lips and dig around for my only lighter. It's at the bottom of my pocket. I trade the box out for it, and cup my hands around the weak flame as I light the end of my cigarette.

Looking up from the flame, I put the lighter up and inhale the nicotine my lungs crave. I pull the filter from my lips and look around the end of my porch. There's a jumble of voices two houses down. They aren't dressed for the weather like I am.

"We're fucked!"

One of them yells, exasperated, as they try to break the ice off their van. I smirk and contemplate if I should help. Again, they screamed they are fucked.

After hearing more yells coming from the group as they try to get their van in working condition, I decide to tell them the truth: they aren't getting anywhere anytime soon. Taking another drag of my cigarette, I slowly make my way through the snow and ice. They notice me when I'm half a hour away, and quiet down. The one trying to get the ice off continues, and he's too busy to pay any attention to me.

"You guys locked out?" I ask, inhaling and exhaling a cloud of nicotine. The tall one, he's wrapped tight in a gray jacket with a bright red beanie sticking on his head, nods.

"Yeah. We were hoping t get out of her and back to California today," he tells me, keeping his arms wrapped around him.

I laugh. "You aren't going anywhere after this blizzard. You might as well give up now and go find some firewood. The power is knocked off and won't be back on for at least another two days." They all groan. Finally, the one fighting the door stops and looks over at me. He puhses his hair from his eyes, his breath huffing out in a small white cloud.

"Who's she?" he asks, wrapping himself back in his jacket. It's freezing and already the hottest part of the day.

"I'm Ellie. I live two houses down in 1027," I answer, pointing to my ice-covered pale-yellow house. "You guys got anywhere to stay?"

The tan, stocky one points to the white house behind them. "Our friend has already left for Cali and we have no way back inside."

I frown as I drop my dead cigarette to the ground to freeze in the pile of snow below us. The thought of them staying in my house is a fleeting one, but I see no problem with it. Kevin won't be back from Atlanta for another two weeks.

"You want to stay at my place? I've got extra rooms and I don't mind." They all look between each other, skeptical, until I add: "I have a fireplace, too." They grab their bags off the frozen porch and gather back around me. I smile before lighting another cigarette and lead them to my home. The door creaks a little as I open it. They file in slowly, putting their bags a few feet from the front door. As soon as they see the fireplace roaring loudly, though, they run off to warm up. The tall one stays behind and smiles at me.

"Thank you, for this, Ellie. It means a lot to us."

I smile back and shrug. "It's nothing. Kevin won't be back for weeks and I don't like being alone."

He looks at me. "Kevin?"

I nod and raise my left hand for him to see. "My husband."

There's a look on his face, one that I can't quite describe, as he reached under his jacket to pull out a simple silver chain with a silver wedding band hanging from it.

"I'm recently divorced."

My eyes widen slightly before I wince. "What? You don't look a day over twenty-five."

"I just turned twenty-three," he shrugs and slips the chain back under his top. "She had an affair and when I tried to fix things she wanted nothing to do with me."

I frown and pat his arm. "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, "Don't be. It was her choice to screw me over like that. It's no one's fault but her own." I don't say anything in return, so he has nothing to reply to. We both walk into the main room where I have the fireplace heating the whole house. The four others have stripped out of their jackets and boots, getting as close to the fire as possible. The ginger, the youngest looking of the group, has almost his whole body in the fireplace. I rush over, gripping the collar of his shirt, an yank him back from the fire.

"Alco! Don't be so stupid!"

I look at the brown haired man, watching as his blue eyes glare at the ginger.

"Alco?" I repeat, confused. What kind of name is that? The ginger and blue-eyes look up at me.

"It's a nickname. His name is Alan." The stocky one tells me. "I'm Tino."

I smile and nod, happy to finally put names to faces. The tall one comes up beside me and sits down. We've created a little circle without meaning to.

"I'm Austin," he tells me. His smile seems to light up the cold, dark room. "That's Phil and Shayley."

Looking at all five of them, I try to put a reason to why they've come all the way to Indiana.

"What are a bunch of Cali boys doing in this town of Nowhere, Indiana?" I ask them. Three of the five have an amused grin on their faces while the others wear forced smirks.

"Recording."

I raise an eyebrow. "That's you guys making all that racket?" It's meant as a tease, but I think only a few of them got my sarcasm.

"That's music we're making, sweet stuff! You wouldn't know though since you listen to that Top 40 shit," Alan says, sitting closer to the fireplace than I felt comfortable.

"Says the guy with a tattoo of a cat on his arm," I retort, crossing my arms over my chest as I lazy held my cigarette between my lips. The others laughed, causing me to smirk. He frowns, a bit taken back by my retort, before crossing his arms and huffing. I smirk softly.

"No offense, 'Alco'," I say, repeating the nickname with the same accent that the others had used. "But you don't really seems like a hardcore guitarist. You look more like the ginger kid that was too awkward and lanky to find date on even Christian Mingles."

That causes the whole group, excluding Alan and me, to erupt in a roar of laughter. After a few moments, I get Alan to smirk and nod, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright, the girl's got some game, I'll give her that."

With a proud nod and a smirk, I stand up and leave them to continue to warm up. I'm warm blooded and even in the dead of winter I can sweat from too much heat. I walk about my kitchen, looking through the cabinets as I try to search for a certain bottle of- ah ha! Grabbing the long-necked clear bottle, I hear the equally-clear liquid slosh on the inside. Not even bothering with the tray of shot glasses that were sitting right beside the bottle in the top cabinet.

Screwing off the lid as I walk back into the main room, I take a large swallow of the gin and shake my head as the fire blazes down my throat and into my stomach. I feel warmer now. The guys are talking to themselves but as soon as they see the label of the drink in my hand, I'm hounded with demands to let it over.

"My god, I don't think I've ever craved for liquor this much!" Alan says, grabbing the bottle first and taking a few gulps. He doesn't tear up like I usually do, but his eyes do get a little glassy from the buzz. Tino and Shayley are next, but Austin and Phil only take a small sip before passing it back to me. Slowly, we share the copious amount if liquor, loosening up and sharing crazy stories of our past. I find out they're what makes up a band - a very popular band if I remember correctly. This is their second album, and they hope to release it this summer while they're at Warped Tour.

Ah, Warped Tour. Those memories burn bright behind my eyelids as I remember meeting my hubby, my sweet Kevin. However, it's around this time when they get on the topic of Warped Tour that my memory begins to fail me as to what events took place while under the heavy intoxication...

♪ ♫ ♩ ♬

"Oh, fuck me," I groan, my fingers running through his soft brown hair as his warm body presses into mine. I'm trying to concentrate on my breathing, on keeping my heartbeat steady and my voice low, but the way his lips suckle and wrap around my nipples makes me loose all focus. The warm, wet texture of his tongue contrasts against the cool, sting of metal of his lip ring. My fingers tangle in his hair, trying to grip onto something as he grabs my hips and grinds into me.

The other guys... They're passed out - oh fuck, Shay! - somewhere in my house. I think Austin's on the couch, and Alan is in front of the fireplace on the rug like a cat. Tino and Phil took the guest bedroom - I gave them extra blankets didn't I? I hope I did because it's below freezing out right - shit, don't fucking stop! - now.

His fingers knead the skin on my hips, his thumbs rolling softly over the skin below my navel. My chest quickens as I breathe heavily, trying to see through the hot pleasure that slides down my body. I remove my hands from his hair and tug at his shirt, happy to get it over my head to drag my nails down his chest.

Shayley groans in return, biting at his lip ring as he rests his forehead against my shoulder. My fingers find the button to his jeans and take no time to undo it and unzip them also. His skin is warm and soft. His calloused hands, from years of guitar playing I can only guess, grip my thighs and wrap my legs around his waist. He's pressing hard into my thigh. Kevin wasn't a big man, and neither was Shayley, but it still felt nice to be lusted over and pleasured in some of the simplest ways.

"So warm," he mumbles against my neck, peppering my skin with kisses as he works his hands up my thighs and to the waistband of my panties. There's only a sheet and a thin blanket covering us, so I know it must be our body heat making us sweat like this. In the morning we're going to be freezing.

In the morning... I don't know what I'm to look forward to in the morning. They'll still be here, and I'll still be the woman I told myself to never be: I'll be the wife that drunkenly cheated on her loving husband and suddenly I feel sick to my stomach. I'll be just like Austin's ex-wife. I'll be just like her and that's something I don't want to have on conscience.

"Ellie?"

I look from the white ceiling to Shay's bright eyes. He's looking at me in the darkness, trying to pinpoint my expression and what I'm thinking.

"Ellie?" He says again, smoothing his thumb over my hips. I don't say anything at first.

"Yeah?"

He doesn't know about Kevin. Only Austin knows about Kevin. I had taken my ring off earlier, so not to lose it since it was slipping on my finger, and it was sitting in my jeans. They were somewhere on the floor of my bedroom. Shayley leans in closer.

"You okay?" he whispers, gently running his nose up my jaw before placing random kisses against my neck and under my ear. The warmth that spreads throughout my limbs is back. I nod and hum; it turns into a moan as he slides my panties down my thighs and bites at my neck. I'm quick to get him out of his jeans and boxers. He's pressing into my thigh as we drunkenly kiss. His hands hold my hips to his, and I feel him beginning to press into me.

It doesn't hurt, but there is a slight discomfort. It's been so long since Kevin and I have shared our bed in such a way--

I'm such a horrible wife.

"Shit," I hear him curse harshly, his hips bucking slightly as he continues to push his hips to mine. I simply relax, letting my body wrap around him the way it does with Kevin, and let go of my soft, breathy moans as they wish to be released. His lips smirk against mine just before his hips pull back and then suddenly slam forward--

"Oh god!" I groan, one hand wrapped around him to grip his shoulder as the other finds a nestled place in his soft hair. There's sweat on our bodies now, and we don't feel the coldness of the room. It smells like sex and alcohol-breath. I regret this, but the euphoria that washes over me makes my brain hazy and I can't see through it nor the liquor.

Shayley continues his thrusts, keeping steady and my hips gently rock into his just the right way to make him drop his head to my neck. He's breathing heavily only a few minutes in. Neither of us will last long. Alcohol always released a hormone-driven beast that was hidden deep inside, so I could get off easily. Shayley's movements got sloppy, and in an attempt to keep us going, I pushed against his shoulders and rolled him onto his back.

Somehow that position of me on top sent us both over just seconds later. My body is hot and sweaty and smells like an affair. We both groan, taking in the ecstasy before I find the feeling in my toes again and don't see white spots. Taking a few minutes to gain are surroundings, I look down at Shayley as I feel his hands holding my waist. His eyes are closed, but I can tell from the way his fingers slightly tighten into my skin and how his hips shift that he'll be ready for another round in just a--

"Ohhhh," I let out when his hips roll up into mine unexpectedly. My chin drops to my chest as I let my hands rest on his shoulders as support to hold me up. After a few seconds of silence, he speaks up.

"Are you going to move or do I need to get back on top?" he grumbles, rolling his hips again. I dig my nails into his collarbone, getting a throaty groan and a shudder. Good. The haze is slowly wearing off as we sweat out the alcohol.

Taking him by surprise at my sudden moments, I begin to grind and bounce my hips, riding Shayley as my hands stay on his shoulders. His hands grip tighter on my waist before moving down to hold my ass, helping me move up and down. It only takes a few more minutes until we both fall prey to a quick orgasm. We take our time to cool off, taking deep breathes and not moving too much of our body. I simply lay down on his chest, staring at his tattooed left pec, trying to make out what it is in the dark of my room.

We fall asleep, too drunk to remember, but not drunk enough to know it was wrong.

I need a cigarette.