Page 35 of Abdominal Snowman

Tilting the can over the milky drinks, he pressed the top and added a perfectly shaped mound of whipped cream on both before finally giving a nod. Then he dashed a sprinkle of something like cinnamon over the top. And finally…

“There.”

“Are they done?” she asked, excited to try it solely for how much time Soren had spent on them. And come on… the man had added sprinkles.

“Yeah, it’s vanilla and caramel, so I hope you don’t mind that combined with coffee.”

Sage arched a brow. “Coffee, caramel, and vanilla are like the perfect companions.”

“You’d be surprised,” he replied with a shrug and offered her one of the mugs. It was chilly to the touch, and she wrapped a hand around the glass carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was drop the damned mug after he’d spent ages on it.

“Well, I don’t mind at all,” she said, lifting the mug. “Cheers, Snowflake.” she offered with a grin.

Shaking his head at the nickname, his smile softened as he clinked his mug against hers. But he didn’t drink, he only watched as she tilted the mug to her lips.

Soren’s blue gaze studied her sharply as the sweet, creamy, frappe-esque drink hit her taste buds. It was sweet, barely tasted like coffee, and she loved it.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed, lowering the mug and wiping off any possible whipped cream mustache that might be left behind. “That’s delicious.”

Soren beamed and sipped his own. “I’m glad you like it.”

He wasn’t very mustache conscious, and she silently studied him as he explained how he’d come up with such a delicate concoction. Her smile grew as he kept talking with a thin white line above his top lip.

She couldn’t tell him about Starbucks. It would be like kicking a puppy.

Sage drank the frappe happily, but wondered how the hell Soren kept up his figure drinking all this sugar each day.

Men.

“I’m sorry about your vacation cabin,” Soren said when their teasing quieted and the silence became too much.

Sage just shrugged it off.

“Thanks,” she replied, unsure what other response to give, what to say that wouldn’t give away her doubts and secret… anticipation.

Was it awful that part of her, just a small part, was excited to stay? Excited to spend more time with Soren, unravel his mystery, and get to know him?

“So when you’re snowed in all alone up here, what do you do?” she asked.

“Oh, here we go,” he drawled, rolling his eyes.

“What?” she questioned obliviously.

Soren shook his head at her. “More questions.”

* * *

Later on, long after her coffee was gone and Soren had disappeared yet again, Sage sat on the couch in front of the fire and did the thing she hated most—adulting.

Or she was trying to.

Thunk.

A damned staccato thumping kept piercing through the lo-fi focus music she was blasting like clockwork on her headphones.

She cranked the music up another notch, almost wincing. Sage was determined to get this insurance bullshit out of the way.

Please type a description of the incident.