Page 33 of Isabelle and the Beast

“Nope. I actually broke my pinky finger in P.E. in seventh grade. We were playing basketball and someone threw me the ball and…yeah. Broken pinky.”

Adam shrugs. “That’s fairly commonplace, isn’t it? Breaking fingers in basketball?”

“I mean…it was a gentle toss. It should’ve been a simple catch. Even I can admit that now.”

Adam takes a step toward me. “That’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Well, you don’t have to say it like that. But yes, it is.”

He steps toward me again, now about five feet away. “Maybe you’d have better aim from a closer distance.”

I raise a brow at him. “Is that a challenge?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I’m curious how bad your athletic skill really is. I won’t even move. It should be an easy target.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “What do I get if I hit you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I need motivation. What do I get if I actually hit you with a snowball?”

“The honor of hitting me with a snowball. I think that’s a reward in itself.”

I snort a laugh. “I guess striking THE Adam Stone with a snowball would be something I could brag about for years. After all, it’s the same Adam Stone who had the power of fire inBurned to the Ground.”

“True. I could just melt all the snow if we were in that universe.”

I sigh dramatically. “If only. Then I could’ve been home already by now.”

“Yes, you could.” His expression turns serious. He’s studying me.

I think he wants to know if I’m still angry about being locked here. But the truth is…I’m not so sure. We seem to have come to a mutual understanding, and the tone is significantly more light-hearted than before.

I’m kind of…having fun.

“Well,” he says, clapping his hands together, “what do I get if you miss again?”

I snort. “There’s no way I’d miss.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Fine.” I rack my brain to come up with something ridiculous he might want. And then it comes to me. “If I miss, I’ll do the rom-com with you.”

His eyebrows rise sky-high. “Is that a promise?”

I nod, giving him a no-nonsense stare. “But I won’t miss.”

He holds up his arms. “Let’s see about that.”

I bend down, packing snow into another snowball.I can’t miss, I tell myself.

But in a weird way, I wonder…do I want to miss?

Do I want to do the movie with him now?

No, of course not. He’s just an interesting puzzle for me to solve while I’m stranded up here. As soon as I can get back down this mountain and home to LA, I won’t think about Adam Stone again. At least not until I watch his next movie.

Once I’m satisfied with my snowball, I straighten and stare him down. He’s still standing with his arms raised, a slight smirk on his face. I take aim and…

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