"You're dripping everywhere," she says.
"I'm aware."
"Your lips are turning blue."
Why the hell is she looking at my lips?
"You're literally about to get hypothermia." She stands up, and the quilt falls away. Those enormous sweats hang off her hips, the T-shirt swallowing her whole. "Change. Now."
I shoot her a look. "Who made you boss?"
“I’m being practical.” She plants her hands on her hips, and Christ, even when she's trying to be authoritative, all I can see is how young she is, how small…a little ball of fire. "You'll be useless if you freeze to death, and I'm not hauling your gigantic frozen corpse anywhere."
My mouth twitches. “Gigantic?”
"You're like six-four and built like a—" She waves a hand. “A lumberjack or something. So yes,gigantic.”
"Six-five," I correct, just to be an ass.
She rolls her eyes. “Ex-cuseme.” She points at the dresser. "There's more clothes in there. Change before I have to explain to Sadie why I let her brother die of stubbornness."
The mention of my sister cuts through the tension.
Right. Sadie…the sneaky devil.
It’s funny, Dad spent thirty years on Denver PD before he retired, and somehow all four of his kids ended up in some version of law enforcement—me as the oldest, a park ranger; Kade next, a cop in a small Colorado town; Jayce after him, following Dad's footsteps at Denver PD before heading to Quantico; and Sadie…the baby, following me into the ranger service. But between us all, Sadie’s always been more observant than anyone else in my family.
Shewas the one constantly trying to get me to give Piper a chance. “She's really sweetandsmart, Harlon,” she’d said to me. “You’d like her if you got to know her.”
But I already knew that.
Thatwas the problem.
I liked hertoomuch.
"Fine." I move to the dresser, pulling out thermal underwear, thick socks, sweatpants that'll probably be too short on me.Everything’stoo short on me. "Unless you want a show, turn around."
For a second, I think she's going to argue. But then that flush creeps up her neck—the one I definitely shouldn't be noticing—and she spins to face the wall, making a production of studying the ancient wood paneling.
“Wouldn't want to look, anyway,” she announces.
I snort, peeling off my wet shirt. The thermal layer underneath is soaked too, clinging to my skin. "Sure."
"I mean it. You're the last person I'd want to see…naked."
"Feeling's mutual." The lie tastes bitter.
I strip off the thermal, goosebumps breaking out across my arms and chest. My hands are still numb, making the buttons on my jeans a challenge. But I’ll tear my fingers off before asking for help with that.
The silence stretches, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the howl of wind outside.
Then I catch the subtle turn of her head.
"You're looking."
She whips back to the wall so fast I almost laugh. "Am not."
"I can feel your eyes, Piper."
