Page 6 of Baby, It Snowed Outside

I flip on lights as I head to the guest bathroom. Slamming the door behind me with a loud crack. “Zane didn’t have to make me feel so bad about him looking for me,” I grumble to myself.

My jeans are the first thing I strip off. It takes me a few tries to unbutton them, but eventually my fingers cooperate. I peel the stiff material away from my legs, wincing as the ice particles rip away from my tender skin. Beneath my jeans, my faded tanned legs are painted in bright red and pink splotches from the cold. The skin aches from sensitivity to the room temperature air. I reach for Zane’s sweats, running them through my hands as I think about how much I want to make a move on him. I’d kill for a joint right now to calm my thoughts down. It’s a bad choice, right? I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. I shouldn’t be, but I want it, and why should I deny myself of something I want? Some risks are meant to be taken.

Determined to kiss those irresistibly succulent lips of his, I pull on the sweats shoving my feet through. The waistband snaps over my hips and I tug the strings to tighten the waist. My frame is much smaller than Zane’s, which leaves me imagining what it would feel like to be pinned beneath him. The blood rushes to my face, covering my cheeks in a rosy pink blush. Deep down, a part of me always knew I wanted it to be him. I’ve had plenty of offers and opportunities to let someone swipe my v-card. Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic who’s stuck on a feeling. Why am I like this?

I roll my eyes at myself and hang my frozen pants over the shower bar. Next, I rip off my sweater, revealing a cami bra beneath it. Before slipping off my bra, I fold my sweater up neatly and lay it on the countertop. When I pick up the T-shirt, the first thing I do is bring it to my nose, inhaling deeply. I love the smell of Zane. His cologne taste is not all that different from Breck, but something about his signature scent is just edgier. It reminds me that wanting him is a bad choice, warning me to stay away like a flashing stop sign on a dark, lonely road. I slip it on, knowing full well it’s not warm enough for me. As if right on cue, a shiver rolls over my body. It’s a sign. I’ll just steal one of Zane’s sweatshirts. I’m sure it won’t be that hard to find something in his luggage.

It takes me a few minutes to muster up enough nerve to open the door I slammed just minutes ago. I walk into what feels just like a brick wall, stumbling back, but his hands are grabbing for me. I put my hands out in front of me just in time to keep my braless girls from slamming against his chest.

“What the fuck, Zane!” I huff at him, annoyed.

“I—“ he stumbles over his words for a moment, eyes darting nervously before they finally land right on mine. “I started thinking about it when I was flipping the logs on the fire, and realized a T-shirt wouldn’t be warm enough for you.”

“Were you standing out there the entire time?” I snatch the hoodie from his hands, retreating into the bathroom, and slamming the door on him.

My back slams into the back of the door as my body slides slowly to the ground in defeat. Why was I mean to him? He was just bringing me a hoodie, right?

“I was just getting ready to knock before you plowed into me, Aspen. Come apologize when you’re done.”

“Go away, Zane” I shout in reply, knowing that it doesn’t matter. He’s either already gone or not going to respond.

He sounded mad. I hold my face in my hands. What am I doing? I need to get my nerves under control or I’m going to blow this. I take a deep breath and let it out. This is one of those hard to swallow pills I need to apologize, and not just any apology. I need to make it worth it. I peel off the T-shirt and slam the hoodie over my head. My lip slides up into a sinister half smile. I know exactly what I’m going to do.

Chapter four

Zane

Aspen comes stomping into the den, and I brace myself for an onslaught of harsh words. I shouldn’t have been rude to her, but I wasn’t doing anything wrong, and I was technically getting ready to knock. I just kind of froze up and started over-thinking things, but I can’t let her see me second-guessing myself, so I lean back into the couch and meet her gaze with a cocky expression, tempting her to throw the first punch. Instead, she does something completely unexpected.

Aspen, my best friend’s little sister, the girl I can’t get out of my head no matter how far away I get from her, is straddling my lap, wearing my sweatpants and my hoodie. Fuck if I’m not immediately enamored. My heart pounds so loudly I don’t even realize my arms are responding even though my brain can’t seem to. They wrap around her small frame, pulling her deeper into my lap. When her hands land against my freshly shaved face, it takes everything in me not to wince away.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers softly, holding my gaze with her bright green eyes. They sparkle in the dancing light from the fire. “I don’t know why I acted that way,” she confesses, searching my eyes for some sign of forgiveness.

I search hers back, memorizing every golden speck, and slivers of turquoise. “It’s okay.”

Her ice-cold hands drop to my neck, tracing the lines of my shoulders. “Tonight has been,” she pauses, searching for words, and it makes me smile.

“Nice.” I offer. “It was nice that I had someone to pick me up and not just a stranger from a ride service.”

Aspen tenses. I want to brush my thumb across her cheek and tell her not to feel bad for me, but I can’t. Falling for her is not allowed.

She interrupts my thoughts. “It’s been better than it could have been. I appreciate you getting us home, or in my case, almost home.” Aspen motions around us at the walls of the den.

She’s not wrong. How many summers did we spend camped out in here to escape the heat? How many New Year’s Eves have we spent eating junk food waiting for the ball to drop in the middle of Times Square on the television? This den is almost home. The shiver from her cold fingers touching below my jawline pulls me back to the present. I have a choice to make because Aspen, the girl of my dreams, the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, is sitting in my lap, tracing my body. I close my eyes in a long blink. Fuck it. I trapped us here for a reason, right? Wasn’t it so neither one of us could chicken out? I know she wants it too, but neither of us is brave enough to say it.

Releasing her waist, I scoop her fingers in between my own, cupping my hands around each one, then bring them to my lips, and breathe my warm breath on to them. “Your hands are like ice.”

She surprises me for a second time, leaping from my lap and turning to leave. I catch her by the crook of her elbow and pull her back against me as I jump to my feet. “Where are you going?”

“My mother is probably worried about me. I should go. I should try to make it home. It’s bad enough Breck can’t be here. I should be there for her.” Aspen blurts out frantically.

She barely puts up a fight when I pull her against my chest to whisper in her ear. “What’s your hurry?”

She’s silent. So I continue to plead with her the only way I know how. “You know as well as I do that your mother has long forgotten you both and is drowning herself in eggnog, or cranberry martinis.”

“My father will be upset.”

“Upset about what? That we were stuck at the airport like you told them?” I ask.

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