Page 1 of Frostbite, Lovebite

"Of course this is your idea of a relaxing day off, I don't know what I expected," Ronan said with a dramatic sigh as they reached the top of the latest incline.

The meadow at the top, as hoped, contained all the flowers he'd been seeking, or nearly all of them, hard to tell at just one glance. Setting down his bag, Match dug out the various reusable bags he'd bought for precisely this purpose.

Though he grew many of the herbs, plants, and flowers he needed for his work, it was impossible for a single hedge witch to groweverythingthey used. The good thing about living next door to an enormous forest was that he didn't have to go far to get what he needed, or gamble on an online seller being as reliable as their glitzy website promised. Thankfully, between his own foraging and a couple of shops in town he rarely had to chance online shopping at all.

"We've been dating for over two months, you know what you're in for. And what's not relaxing?" he demanded. "It's a pretty day, if cold, just about everything I was looking for is right here in this meadow, and the only other thing we're doing tonight is dinner, maybe dinner and ashowif you stop mocking my ideas of fun."

Ronan grinned, maybe leering just a bit in that lethally charming way of his. "Show, huh? Gonna dance for me, Match?"

"Keep dreaming, cause that's the only place I'm doing a strip dance. Now shut up and focus. See that Hellebore there?"

"Probably, but I've no idea which one that is."

"Oh, my god, it's not even a rare flower!" Match pointed to the dark, dusky pink flower in question. "That one. Pick the blossoms carefully, stow them in this bag. They don't need to be kept intact, but the less damaged in transit the more I can control how I break them down and use them later."

Ronan saluted. "Yes, my lord."

"Shut up." Rolling his eyes, smiling all the while, Match set to work on picking different flowers, starting with Winter Aconite and then moving on to Crocus, Snow Drops, Winter Heath, Witch Hazel, and finally Glory of the Snow. "Not bad for a couple hours' work."

"Most of that spent hiking. So did we get all your flowers? Dare I ask what they're for?"

"All kinds of things, but winter flowers are especially hardy so they're good for spells that have to last a long time, like wards. Many curses use winter-blooming flowers and herbs, and their counters require the same, so always good to have a supply."

Ronan gave him a look. "And they all happen to grow in the same meadow just ten miles out of town?"

"My grandmother's work, she was always immensely proud of it. Come on, I'll let you buy me iced coffee on our way back home."

"How very gracious," Ronan said, bowing low as Match walked by him to lead the way back down the trail. Thankfully, the return trip would go faster than the climb up, though going down always seemed more difficult than going up when it came to climbing. Did actual, real hikers and climbers feel the same?

Match replied loftily, "I'm always gracious." Even though that wasn't true, at all, even a little bit. Asking anyone for anything, especially his infinitely better off friends, was incredibly difficult. Ronan's family was stupid levels of wealthy while Match could barely afford his shitty one room apartment.

Which meant in the whole two-ish months they'd been dating, Ronan did most of the paying. Match had been allowed to pay for their Chinese food a whole one time. As friends, he'd never minded occasionally making his friends buy him coffee, but he didn't want anyone thinking he was some kind of gold digger. Certainly, that's what Ronan's family had said at the ball they'd attended back toward the end of December, right at the end of the month. Ugh, worst night ever, and Ronan had been so angry over their behavior that he'd quite literally thrown away his phone, gotten a new one, and had not bothered to get the numbers of any of his family back. They communicated through his uncle or not at all.

Not fair to poor Uncle Phillip, but he seemed fine with it for the time being.

Ronan's bright, candy red Challenger stood out in the gloomy, mostly empty parking lot, he slid into the passenger seat and sighed gratefully to be out of the increasingly biting wind. The day was still nice, but he had a feeling that there was going to be a storm that night. "Gonna get extra cold tonight."

"Want to come over and snuggle by the fire?" Ronan asked, and when Match hesitated added, "Uncle Rick bought a fancy new hot chocolate, it has cinnamon and cardamon and everything."

"Damn it," Match said in defeat. He always felt awkward at their house, painfully out of place even after three months, but helikedtheir house, and Rick had a hot chocolate collection fit for the Palace of Versailles.

Ronan grinned in triumph, threw the car into gear, and headed off. "Swing by your house to drop off your stuff, do anything with it that can't wait, then go to mine? My uncles are going out this evening, won't be home until like midnight…"

"You know my apartment doesn't have other people in it and you could fuck me there whenever you wanted, right?"

"I mean if you want to stay there a little longer before heading to mine…"

Match laughed. "Nah, I'd rather wait for your much more spacious, infinitely less creaky bed. Let me stash my flowers in the fridge and then we can go." As they pulled into the parking lot, he kissed Ronan quick. "Wait here, I'll be five minutes."

"Kay."

Slinging his bag over one shoulder, he slammed the car door shut and jogged across the parking lot and up the stairs—and stopped as he saw a bright orange flyer taped to his door. What the hell?

His heart dropped into his stomach as he got close enough to read the large, boldedEVICTION NOTICEacross the top. What the fucking fuck? He snatched the flyer off the door, stomach in knots now, bile burning the back of his throat. He'd never missed a single rent payment in his life. He didn't have anything illegal or against the rules. Ronan obviously hadn't moved in. He didn't make noise or have lots of people over or play loud music, he didn't even have anything that could play music like that. Or a TV.

Keeping an unauthorized pet.

He'dclearedthe pixies. Connell had said he could have them, had even said he'd add an actual clause for them when Match's lease was up for renewal in February. Match had been content with the verbal approval because Connell was an old friend of his parents, he had no reason to mistrust him or demand it in writing sooner.

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