Page 36 of Cold Front
“You didn’t think I’d let you get away with those bland eggs forever, did you?” I tossed the words over my shoulder but kept my pace steady. My heart was already in the right place:chilies.I had to get them. Niall would thank me later.
As we approached the produce section again, I scanned for the chili peppers. It didn’t take long—they were nestled in a small display near the fresh herbs and other hot peppers, their bright red skins practically daring me to grab them. I plucked a small bag, not even bothering to look back at Niall as I dropped them into the cart with a satisfied thunk.
“There,” I said, my voice light with victory. “For your eggs. Time to expand your horizons.”
I could feel Niall’s gaze on me, and when I risked a glance, I caught the tiniest twitch at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t full-on amusement, but it was something close. The barest hint of a smile, but I’d take it.
“I bet you’ll thank me later,” I added, my voice just a little too smug.
Niall just shrugged. It felt like I was winning him over in some small way, and that thought made me smile to myself.
“So,” I continued, pushing the cart forward as we moved deeper into the produce section. “You’re committed to making your eggs taste like cardboard?”
His response came dry, a little begrudging, like he knew he was playing into my hands. “Keep talking, and I’ll make you try them. Then you’ll see how good my eggs taste.”
I leaned in slightly, pretending to be intimidated, but my grin was wide. “Is that a challenge, Niall?”
He didn’t answer right away, but that almost smile was still there, lingering at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, it is.”
Yes!I did a fist pump in my head.
Maybe I had to work on his egg seasoning skills, but if I could make him crack a smile? That was progress in my book.
We moved through the store, grabbing cereal, bread, and coffee. I flexed my fingers, trying to ignore the way they felt stiff again. It wasn’t just my hands—cold had settled deep, working its way up my arms, lingering beneath my clothes like it had no intention of leaving.
Michigan was no joke. Back home, I never had to think about the temperature inside a grocery store. Yeah, the aisles with the fridges were a little cool, but nothing I paid attention to. Here? A whole different story. The cold clung like the air itself had teeth.
I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, curling my fingers tight, but it didn’t do much. The chill had settled deep, burrowing under my skin.
Beside me, Niall shifted. A slight pause, like he was considering something. Then, without a word, he moved.
The weight landed first—a solid, heavy warmth draping over my shoulders, the fabric thick enough to block out the cold in an instant. It swallowed me whole, the sleeves hanging past my elbows, and the body of it too big.
I stood there, frozen.
Niall’s jacket.
His scent hit next—clean and fresh, with something sharp and woodsy underneath. Faint traces of the cold still clung to the fabric, but beneath that, it radiated heat; like it had soaked up every bit of his warmth before finding its way onto me.
A hitch in my breath. A slight jolt in my chest, like my body registered his proximity before my brain could catch up.
Slowly, I glanced up at him.
“What—?”
“Put your arms in.” His voice was gruff, like this was just another task to check off the list.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “You keep it. We’re almost done, and your car is warm, right?”
He gave me a look. “Eli.”
“It’s not that bad.”
He didn’t answer. Just grabbed my wrist, firm but not rough, and pushed my arm toward the sleeve like I was being ridiculous.
A shiver ran up my spine—definitely not from the cold.
I huffed. “Niall?—”
