it’s only a matter of time until we lose power.
I sigh thinking of that.
I have generators for a reason, but still. I worry about my studio.
London grasps my arm, a startled gasp escaping her lips in the form of a white plume of vapor.
“Betsy’s fine,” I reassure her. “She likes to do this. Loves the snow. Relax, she’ll be back in no time.” We step onto the porch, the light casting an eerie glow against the falling flakes. Visibility is shit and with this much snow and ice, it’s going to take a while to fully clear it.
“Do you not see the wall of white?”
Oh, I see it. Reaching forward, I pick up a ball of it from the railing of the porch and chuck it at her chest. It splatters against my coat that’s covering her and she jumps back with a squawk of surprised outrage.
“Hey,” she snaps indignantly. “That’s so unfair. I’m wounded.”
“So that means you don’t know how to throw a snowball?”
Her pretty eyes narrow, challenge glimmering like diamonds in the dark. “I played softball in high school.”
I smirk. “I remember. But you played second base. Hardly known for their throwing prowess.”
“So, that’s how it is, huh?” She takes a step back, her smile meant to disarm me. It’s working. “Did you think I’d cower?”
No. I knew she’d love this. It’s why I started it. Anticipation buzzes a course of electricity through my veins. Wind whips past us, blowing her hair up and into her face and I take advantage, chucking another snowball, hitting her in the exact same place since I won’t hit her face or head.
“I don’t know. Looks like you’re a bit slow to fight back.” I laugh at her growl. “But like you said, you’re injured.”
“And drugged,” she snaps. Before I can react, she grabs a chunk of snow and hurls it at me, hitting me directly in the face. “Oh, crap. Miles… I’m so…” But she’s laughing too hard to get the full apology out.
I wipe my face of the cold icy slush she coated me in, flicking it to the porch. “It’s like that, is it?”
She shakes her head, biting into her lip, but her words contradict her demure pose. “Bring it.”
“Oh, firefly. You have no idea what you just asked for.” I chuck a snowball right at her, hitting her square in the chest.
“You keep hitting me there. You’re going to hurt my boobs.”
“I can’t hit your knee or your face. Turn around and I’ll aim for your ass next.”
She gasps out, going for her own weapon of snow, and without thinking twice, I leap forward, grasping her around the middle. She yelps, screaming out a laugh as I haul her against me, lifting her off her feet and spinning us around. My intent initially was to toss her into the snow, but at the last second, I remember the day she’s had, the reason she’s here, and try to back off.
But I’m starting to think those painkillers are kicking in and that maybe she is slightly drugged because before I can even comprehend what’s happening, she’s pushing her weight into me, tucking her mouth into my neck and… blowing a raspberry? I laugh out like a kid, shocked out of my mind, stumbling back a step as I try to push her away.
Only, I miscalculate how close I am to the edge of the porch and tip back, her still in my arms, and with her weight on my chest, we go down, falling backward. She screams as we go smashing into the bank of snow on the side of my porch that easily catches our fall. We’re lucky to have it so high that we don’t crash down the three steps that would likely break my ass if it were clear.
We land with an oomph, or maybe that’s just me because I try to cradle London as much as possible, bearing the brunt of the impact. “London, are you okay? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” I shift to sit up, taking her with me and cupping her face in my gloved hands, checking her over.
Her eyes are on mine, but she’s quiet, staring at me, and I can’t discern her expression. Her eyes are a little heavy, probably from the drugs, as her gaze intensifies the longer she stares at me.
My heart starts to pound in my chest.
I don’t even know what came over me. I’ve never done anything like that with anyone. I’m not