Page 30 of The Fix

A scream prepped to burst from my throat gets lodged when my back collides and my arms flop to my sides, a dusting of white puffing out around me.

Blinking through the snow that flutters down over my face, I lay frozen in shock.

Shock … because nothing hurts. Nothing rolls. No aches.

And the mountain isn’t eating me alive.

I sink further into the pile of fluffy, white snow, as I scrambled onto my knees. “Jeffers!”

A burst of laughter is the only answer I get as I trudge my way out of nature’s pillow, the flakes clustered and clinging to every bit of me.

“Ready for that hot meal, Ms. Prune?”

Chapter Fifteen

Toby

“Iliterally hate you.”

“Well, that’s not very professional of you.” I don’t bother tamping down the snicker that rises.

“You’re the worst.”

I regret none of my decisions.

“How dramatic.”

The sight of Anna covered in snow is one I will never forget, not that it’s the only thing I want to see her covered in after a kiss like that one, but we’re still ignoring that it happened.

It did, however, get her ass inside with a stick in her hand because it meant being close to the warm fire.

She cheated and found a metal skewer long enough to reach from a safe distance, but she’s still next to me with some weird version of a hotdog currently burning in the flames.

“You know you’re supposed to be able to eat that, right?”

“It’s fine,” she mutters and pulls the corners of the throw blanket closer around her chin.

“Not if it’s fucking shoe leather, woman. Fuck.”

She jabs the skewer further into the flames. “It’s gotta be cooked all the way.”

“They’re literally pre-cooked dogs.” I pick up the package and shake it between us. “You can eat them straight out of the plastic.”

“Ew.”

I shake my head, my tongue poking out to wet my grinning lips. “There’s nothing wrong with them.”

Anna just shakes her head, rotating her wrist to get another side of the hotdog into the heat.

“You won’t die if you eat one.” I shove the package in her direction and when she cringes and shakes her head, I pull back. “Fine. More for me, then.”

“Go ahead.”

Shrugging, I dig into the pack and pinch a hotdog between my fingers. Bringing the cold processed meat to my mouth, I take a huge bite.

“God,” she groans. “You’re the absolute worst.”

“So you’re saying …” I pause long enough that Anna drags her resentfully curious gaze to mine. “You don’t want any of this?”

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