"I'll fill you in later," Bash says quietly, coming to stand behind me. His hand finding the small of my back. The gentle pressure feels steadying, like a silent promise.
Dad claps his hands. "Well, it's already five-thirty. Everyone should start getting ready. We're leaving at six-thirty sharp."
Mom asks Emily if she can borrow earrings, and suddenly the house is a flurry of movement.
Bash and I slip upstairs amid the chaos, neither of us speaking until we reach our room and close the door behind us.
Standing there, suddenly awkward, I’m hyper-aware of him in a way I wasn't even when we were naked together that first night. Because now there's more at stake. Now there are feelings involved that I can't quite name.
"So," I say, unzipping my snow jacket.
"So," he echoes, a half-smile playing at his lips as he shrugs out of his.
We both try to speak at once.
"About earlier—"
"I should probably—"
We laugh, the tension breaking slightly.
"You go," I tell him.
He runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up in adorable tufts. "I was just going to say, that snowman was definitely my best work."
I roll my eyes, grateful for the moment of levity. "You're impossible."
"Impossibly charming? Impossibly handsome?"
"Impossibly full of yourself," I counter, but I'm smiling.
The silence settles again, charged with everything we're not saying. I clear my throat. "We should get ready. Do you want to take a shower first?"
Instead of answering, he crosses the room in two long strides. His hands cup my face, and his eyes search mine, giving me every chance to pull away.
I don't.
His lips meet mine again, soft at first, then hungry. All the restraint from earlier is gone. This isn't a stolen kiss during a snowball fight or a bet that is being collected. This is deliberate. This is a choice.
I melt into him, my arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer. A small sound escapes me as his tongue slides against mine.
In one fluid motion, he lifts me, hands gripping underneath my thighs. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us toward the bathroom.
"What are you doing?" I gasp when he breaks the kiss for air.
He doesn't answer, just pushes open the bathroom door with his shoulder and kicks it shut behind us. The world narrows to just his mouth back on mine, his hands holding me steady, the solid warmth of him against me.
Until the sudden shock of cold water hits us both.
I shriek as he steps us directly under the shower head, fully clothed. The water hits like a slap of winter, and we both jolt back, twin gasps escaping us.
Then we're laughing, water streaming down our faces, clothes quickly soaking through.
"Are you insane?" I sputter, pushing wet hair from my face.
"Probably," he admits, his smile so wide. "But I've been wanting to do that for a while now."
"The shower ambush?"
