“Thedeer?”
He nodded.
“She’s fine,” Reagan said. “She’ll live to spread ticks and disease, and destroy crops. Where’d she get you?”
He pointed to his shoulder.
“Can you move it?”
He rotated his shoulder. He was broader than he looked from a distance. Broad even under his coat. His neck was thick, and one of his ears was partly inverted, probably from an old injury. He had snow in his ears and his hair. His hair was much darker than Reagan’s, almost black.
“Did you hit your head?” she asked.
“No. I think I’m okay.”
“That was so stupid, Mason—that could have been yourface.”
“I think I’m okay,” he repeated. He lifted his head up out of the snow and pushed up onto his elbows.
Reagan moved away from him.
He stood up, so she stood up, too. The pain in her knee flared. She hissed, shifting her weight off it.
Mason caught her arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Reagan looked up at him. He was an inch or two taller than her. Not very tall. “That could have been yourneck,” she said. “That wasso stupid.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“God damn it,” Reagan said. Her heart was still pounding.
Mason looked worried. There was snow on his glasses, and his mask had fallen below his nose. He was holding her arm. “I’m sorry, okay? Are you hurt?”
“No,”Reagan said. “I’m just ...”
Mason was holding her arm. He was standing right next to her. She’d put herself this close to him, and she wasn’t even wearing a mask—where was her mask?He was so close, she could see his chest moving.
He reached up, slowly, with his free hand, and tugged his mask back into place over his nose.
Reagan watched him through the fog of her own breath.
Then she reached up, with her own free hand, to touch his cloth-covered cheek.
He didn’t move away.
She pulled his mask down. Slowly. Deliberately. Under his soft chin.
Mason watched her face. He wasn’t smiling, but she could still see his two front teeth.
Reagan made a fist in the suede collar of his coat and pulled herself closer to him.
His head dipped forward, more fiercely than she was expecting, to kiss her.
She closed her eyes and just let it happen for a few seconds—he was kissing her. He was in her space. Past her perimeter. This was the second person to touch her today. The second person in ten months. (If Reagan had known in February what was coming, she would have thrown her body into more arms.) (She didn’t need people the way other people needed people, but she still needed ...something.) Mason squeezed her arm. She felt herself waking up. She pulled hard on his collar and kissed him hungrily—he tasted green.God. God damn it.He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her even closer. They were both wearing thick coats. Reagan was still wearing her ankle boots. Her feet were drenched. That deer was probably long gone.God damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
Mason pulled his mouth away. “Hey,” he whispered. “Are you okay?”
Reagan was fine.
