“Maybe a little.” I hold my hand up, pinching my fingers together.
Sliding toward me, he takes my coffee and puts it to the side with his. He pulls me in between his legs and wraps one of his arms around my back. The other grips the side of my head, helping his lips find mine. Our tongues swirl together, and my whole body ignites.
Pulling back, his hazel eyes bore into me, and I try to catch my breath under his touch.
“You ready to head back to the house?” he asks.
“Yeah, any ideas of what we can do?”
His whole face lights up. “I have a couple,” he says. “Come on.”
We throw our cups away, lock up the studio, and he grabs my hand. Neither of us says anything, and I find myself liking these quiet moments. The ones where he’s touching me tenderly. There’s no pressure to say anything or act a certain way. No insane schedule occupying all of our time. We can just be—us.Andusis starting to sound really nice.
A little over half-way to the house, Everett lets go of my hand, stops, and crouches down to look at something in the snow.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I’m not sure,” he says, rounding his body over and blocking my view.
“Everett, if it’s a snake?—”
“It’s twenty something degrees out here.” The air in front of his mouth freezes into a white puff of smoke as he laughs. “Snakes hate the cold. Relax.”
“Then what are you doing? If it’s an animal or a bug or something, I think it’s best to leave it alone.”
I move to try to see what it is, but he stands. In his hand is a perfectly round snowball, and a wicked grin spreads across his face.
“Don’t you dare,” I say, giggling and backing away from him.
He lets out a low chuckle, tossing the snowball into his other hand. “Come on, Sugar, have a little fun with me.”
“EverettI don’t know your middle nameNuttall, do not start a snowball fight with me because you will surely lose.”
“Is that so?” He brings up his arm, releasing the snowball, and says, “I like my chances.” The cold icy sphere hits me smack in the upper arm, crumbling on my coat.
Grumbling, I bend down to prepare for my counter attack. Carefully, I form a ball, but when I look up to find my target, he’s disappeared, leaving behind a trail of footprints.
“Where did you go?” I call, surveying the snowy landscape. “This isn’t funny. Where are you?” He peeks out from behind a tall spruce tree and attempts to throw another one in my direction but misses completely.
“Ha!” I yell out, running in his direction. He moves away from me, and I throw my snowball, hitting him in the back. “Got you!”
My eyes go wide as he turns around, and I realize he already has three more prepped. I duck behind a tree just as one comes spiraling for me and explodes against the trunk. Working quickly, I build a little arsenal and ready myselfto get him back.
He might be a big, strong hockey player, but he underestimated how competitive I can be.
Picking two up, I peek out to see if I spot him. He’s standing out in the open with a smirk painting his face. I attempt to throw one of my snowballs and miss.
Dammit.
He sends both of the ones he’s holding my way, and I duck behind the tree again. The crunch of his boots grows louder as he moves toward me, and my pulse quickens as I anticipate his next move.
Spinning around, I turn to face him with two balls in my hands. “Fuck!” I scream as I run into his toned chest and drop both of my snowballs. “How the hell did you sneak up on me that quick?” I laugh, peering up at him. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Without warning, his hand comes up and he crushes a snowball on top of my head. “I think I win,” he says, chuckling. The icy flakes send a shiver down my spine as they freeze my scalp.
“You’re so dead,” I warn.
“Not if you can’t catch me.” In the blink of an eye, he takes off through the snow and jogs back toward the house.
