Page 9 of Mashed Hearts
“Just thinking you look good in snow,” he says, soft enough the wind almost steals it.
My heart does a traitorous somersault. I blame the thin air.
Back at the cabin, we’re all pink-cheeked and starving. Turkey’s tomorrow, so tonight is lazy—pizza delivery, because Ainsley declares the oven “needs a mental health day.” We sprawl in the living room, with pizza boxes open like treasure chests, grease staining paper plates, and crumpled napkins everywhere.
I’m wedged on the couch between Hope and a throw pillow when Josh drops down on my other side, two paper plates balanced on his knee. “Made you one,” he says, offering a slicefolded New-York-style, extra cheese, light sauce. Exactly how I like it.
I stare. “You remember?”
“Despite time, I remember everything,” he says, and the room tilts a little.
The fire’s crackling, casting gold on everyone’s faces. Someone—Micah, the traitor—suggests truth or dare “for old times’ sake.” With groans, cheers, and one very dramatic eye-roll from Beth.
In the first round, Jack has to text his most recent ex a bee emoji and without a second though, he does it, cackling. Hope admits she once hooked up with her econ TA. Pete dares Ainsley to shotgun a LaCroix—she burps like a frat boy and blames love as she hiccups over the next few minutes.
Then it circles to me.
“Truth or dare, Jamison?” Jack asks, eyes twinkling with evil.
I know better. I really do. “Dare,” I say, because pride.
Jack’s grin is pure chaos. “Kiss Josh. Like you mean it. Thirty seconds. Timer starts when tongues touch.”
The room erupts. Ainsley squeals, covering her mouth with her eyes going wide. Beth whoops. Micah actually blushes and I want to murder Jack with a marshmallow.
Josh turns to me, expression unreadable except for the tiny tick in his jaw. “You don’t have to,” he says quietly.
But the dare hangs in the air like smoke, and everyone’s staring, and my pulse is a drum line. I scoot closer until our knees bump. “Rules are rules, that’s how this game is played.” I mutter.
His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing my lower lip, and then we’re kissing. Soft at first, testing, like we’re teens again and the world hasn’t taught us how to break. Then deeper—his tongue slides against mine, tasting like pizza and peppermintgum, and my fingers fist his flannel like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered.
Thirty seconds feels like thirty years. When we pull apart, the room is silent except for the fire popping. Josh’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide.
“Timer’s up,” Hope whispers, awed.
I clear my throat, shake my head — full of forbidden thoughts. “Next victim.”
The kiss before ended, but the air doesn’t get the memo. Thirty seconds on a phone timer, and I’m pretty sure my soul did a full lap around the cabin. Jack’s still holding his phone like it’s the Stanley Cup, Beth is fanning herself with a paper plate, and Micah—sweet, innocent Micah—has gone full tomato. I can’t look at Josh yet, because if I do, I’ll either combust or start laughing hysterically, and neither is on the menu for this week.
Hope clears her throat. “Well. That was… educational.”
“Ten out of ten, would watch again,” Beth declares, licking pizza grease off her thumb. “Somebody get me popcorn.”
Ainsley’s eyes are saucer-wide, bouncing between us like she’s watching the final rose ceremony on The Bachelor. Pete just grins, slow and smug, like he’s been waiting years for this exact plot twist.
I finally risk a glance at Josh. He’s staring at the fireplace, jaw tight, one hand rubbing the back of his neck—the same tell he had in high school when he was trying not to look smug. Except now his ears are red, and I’m 99% sure that’s not from the flames.
“Next round?” Jack tries, voice cracking with glee.
“Pass,” I say, too fast. My voice comes out squeaky. Great. Real smooth.
Josh stands abruptly, grabbing the s’mores fixings like they’ve personally offended him. “I’m on marshmallow duty. Who wants?—”
“Everyone,” Ainsley cuts in, practically shoving him toward the door. “Go. Roast. Be useful.”
He shoots me a look—half apology, half question—and I nod, because words are currently stuck behind the marshmallow currently lodged in my throat.
The group explodes into chatter the second he exits with Beth on his trail.
