Page 12 of Stuck With Mr. Frosty

Before I shove the door open, I take a deep breath. As I fling it to the side, countless bodies pour into the small living room. The door opens, and even more people are outside dancing, beers in their hands, laughing and talking like they’re having a good time.

There, in the middle of it all, are Mia and Honey.

Honey is soaking up the attention like she’s never had belly rubs before in her life. Her tongue lolls out the side of her mouth, and her tail beats against the floor, the steady thump, thump, thump nearly rivaling the bass of the music.

To be honest, I don’t know what Mia is doing here. I don’t think she’s taking the work seriously most of the time. There are some moments when the smile falls and she concentrates on everything going on around her, but those moments are few and far between. She seems like a party girl with no sense of what she’s doing or where she’s going in life. Maybe it’s not fair to judge her, but right now I’m pissed. I don’t have time to stand around and get to know her when my blood is boiling and my pulse is pounding in my ears.

I storm over to Mia, fingernails digging into my palms. “What the hell is going on here?”

Mia spins with a bottle of beer in her hand and holds it out to me. “Here, it’s been a long week, and you look like you need this. Why don’t you crack it open, enjoy some music, and try and loosen up a little bit?”

“I was enjoying my night until you started blasting music like you own the damn place.” I glare at the offending bottle in her hand, but she shoves it at me.

“Just take the beer, have a good time, and we can argue in the morning.”

I take the beer from her, but that’s only because I plan on heading back to my room, cracking it open, and enjoying the rest of my book once she turns off the music and kicks all these people out.

“You know what else?” she says, an impish smile curving the corner of her mouth, those big eyes shining bright with mischief.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“I spent a lot of my time researching a good doctor to pull the stick out of your ass. You’d be surprised how hard it is to find somebody well versed in a stick-ectomy.”

“You think you’re funny.”

She smirks and crosses her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts up higher in that tight bustier she’s wearing. “I know I’m funny. I don’t let the little things in life get to me. If I did, who knows where I’d be right now. Now, try to make yourself as comfortable as possible with the stick, open the beer, have a drink, and try to have a good time.”

She spins around, walking away, but I follow her. I’m not done with this argument yet. Not even close.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing.” I step in front of her, setting the bottle on the counter while she reaches up into the cupboard. The tight jeans she’s wearing hug the curve of her hips, and for a moment, all I can think about is running my hands over them, hauling her back into me.

It’d be easier to argue with her if she wasn’t so attractive. If that temper of hers didn’t draw me in at the same time as the anger pushes me away.

“Come on, Aiden. Have a little fun.”

And it’s the sound of my name on her lips that does it for me. I crack open the beer — because at least I can enjoy that — and go to sit on the couch in the corner while Honey lays at my feet, still soaking up the attention from all the people pouring in and out of the cabin.

Mia’s like your typical social butterfly. She’s all smiles and laughs, hands on arms, leaning forward and teasing people, and moving from one person to the next like everybody in the room is her best friend. And based on the smiles on their faces after she’s done with them, it looks like they believe it too.

That’s one of the things I don’t understand about her. How can she be so effortless when talking to people? How can she make them feel so comfortable that it’s like she’s known them their entire lives?

If that’s the way she makes other people feel, then why does she get under my skin the way she does?

Maybe I should spend time sorting through my thoughts, but I don’t want to. Not tonight. The beer in my hand is already half gone, and the alcohol slowly entering my veins is making me think that maybe it would be a good idea to loosen up a little. At least for the sake of seeing her smile at me the way she smiles at everybody else.

I’m halfway through my second beer when Mia comes back. She drops down on the couch beside me, one long leg crossing over the other. That infectious smile drops, but her lips still curve to the corner of her mouth.

“So,” she says, her tone light and flirty, her fingers gracing my shoulder, “are you finally starting to have fun?”

“I was having fun in my room reading my book until you turned this place into party central.”

Mia rolls her eyes and leans closer to me. Her lips are near my ear, her voice soft and low despite the music raging around us. “Come on, Aiden. Don’t you want to live a little?”

“If you came over here to start trying to pick the same fight with me again, I suggest you go. I don’t have time to do this with you right now.”

I turn my head to the side just to look at her, but then my mouth is too close to hers. Her lips nearly brush against mine as she laughs. Her gaze searches mine, and there’s something behind her eyes that I can’t quite work out.

“Hasn’t there ever been a time when you wanted to let your hair down just a little bit?” she asks, still too close to me.

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