Page 5 of Stuck With Mr. Frosty

“There’s going to be a party tonight,” Ryder says, hauling himself up from the bed as boots stomp against the porch outside. “Looks like our last cabinmate is here.”

“Great.”

He scuttles out of the room and I follow behind, figuring that the way to survive this season is to try and be on good terms with all my cabinmates.

However, when I step out of the room and see the hot-pink bags sitting at Mia’s feet, I know it’s going to be the longest season of my life.

Dying on the side of a mountain in the cold might be better than spending weeks with her as my cabinmate.

CHAPTER 3

MIA

It might not be too late to switch cabins. I could go to Steph and ask her if it’s possible not to be roomed with the hot guy and his dog.

No amount of chiseled jaw is worth putting up with the disgusted look he gives me, his upper lip curling. He leans in the doorway to the one room, Honey shoving past him, her tail going a mile a minute.

I grin and crouch down. She barrels into me, nearly knocking me to the ground, her tongue dragging across every inch of visible skin she can find.

She yips and wriggles backward, circling around and going to sniff my bags. I get up and brush past the man as he comes to get the dog, keeping my gaze straight ahead instead of spending time admiring the way his dark, long-sleeved shirt clings to his muscles.

Rosie appears in the doorway to one of the rooms at the back of the cabin. “I was hoping it was you!”

For someone who just met me, the welcome is warm, and it helps ease some of the worries in the back of my mind. I follow her into the bedroom, glancing at the two beds and the two dressers, a single desk in the corner.

“This is such a cute room.” I run my hands over the dusty rose duvet. “I didn’t think that the staff cabins were going to be this nice.”

“Aspen Adventures likes to make the staff as comfortable as possible.”

“I might have missed that part of Steph’s speech.” I inspect the window above one of the beds, looking out at the snowy forest that surrounds us. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

“I can’t believe how much you look like your mom.” Rosie gives me a sheepish smile. “Sorry, it’s just the more I look at you, the more you look like Heather.”

Tears spring to the corners of my eyes. “Thanks.”

The man walks into my room, dropping my bags on the ground. “Don’t leave your things in the common area.”

I fight the urge to snap at him. “Sorry, I?—”

“Doesn’t matter. Just don’t. It’s a small cabin. Not a lot of room to spare.” He spins and leaves, though Honey trots in and makes herself comfortable at my feet, her tail thumping against the floor.

Rosie sighs and starts unpacking the bag on her bed. “Don’t mind Aiden. He’s always been cranky, and it seems to get worse every year. And there was drama last year that I’m sure he’s trying to avoid this year, so he’s going to be a bit of a dick.”

“A bit?” I unzip my bag, taking out the picture of me and Mom in Italy the week after we found out she was sick.

She had been insistent on taking one last trip together since the chemotherapy wouldn’t start for another week.

Tears well in my eyes as I run my fingers over the white frame, tracing the intricate carvings. My chest tightens as I set the picture down on the dresser, setting my makeup bag, a mirror, and some perfume beside it.

Rosie hums and sets out a small speaker. “Any particular music you want on while we unpack?”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

She puts on something upbeat, cranking the volume. As she unpacks, she dances around the room.

And before long, I’m dancing with her, both of us prancing around the room with cans of dry shampoo for microphones.

“Would you turn it down?” Aiden glares, looking at Honey, who has moved from her position on the floor onto my bed. “Some of us need to work.”

---