“Right?” I agree, pulling off the lid then setting out the board on the blanket.
Half an hour later, Ethan bursts through the door, arms laden with cut logs.
“Our hero!” we call enthusiastically before returning to our game.
“And that’s a five …” Juniper says smugly. “So … one, two”—she moves her tiny top hat around the board—“three, four …”
“No!” I squeal.
“Aaaand five.” She stabs it down ontoPark Place. “I’ll take it!” She beams, handing me a wad of paper money.
“You jammy git!” I shout.
Juniper guffaws. “I think I need to write that one down!”
Ethan journeys to and from the log shed as Juniper and I playfully shriek, shout, and snipe at each other. At long last, I’m forced to admit bankruptcy, and therefore defeat, though I struggle to mourn my loss when Juniper is so happy with her win.
Juniper showers us in fake money, throwing the notes in the air as she calls, “I win! I win!”
As the coloured notes feather down around us I say, “Sure. You may have won this round. But you’ve never playedScrabblewith Ethan.”
When he comes back in at long last, red-faced and clearly exhausted from all that free labour, we invite him to play with us.
“Of course I’ll kick both your arses.” He grins. “But I gotta shower first.”
Sat on the floor, the fur blanket beneath us, I lean my back against the sofa and sit there, taking it all in. I still can’t believe we’re here.
Outside, the snow flutters down, huge flakes spinning and swaying in the breeze.
Inside, I stretch out my legs, crossing one over the other, and flex my toes in their fluffy socks in the direction of the fire—which, thanks to Ethan’s courageous efforts, we should now be able to keep going for a good long while.
I tilt my head back to rest it on the sofa and stare up to where the cabin walls rise to the peak high above. There’s so much dead space above me, yet this whole place feels so charged and alive.
I close my eyes and listen for the rainfall shower down the hall, like white noise and comfort. I can almost feel the warmth of the hot water rippling down Ethan’s body. Steam fogging the clear glass. Then I hear another sound, something—or someone—drawing closer.
I open my eyes, and Juniper crawls over to sit beside me.
Without thinking, I put my arm around her, and she snuggles into my side.
It’s just friendly. This is exactly what friends do; how they sit, and how they feel, and how—
“Mmmm,” Juniper all but purrs, nestling in, and I cannot even begin to explain the warmth I feel having her beside me.
Is this weird? Am I reading too much into this?
“Warm,” she says happily, resting her head on my shoulder.
Or is she feeling this—whatever this is—too?
The shower stops, and I freeze.
Juniper looks up at me, one eyebrow raised. “Is this okay?” she asks gently.
“I um … Yeah,” I say, settling back down.
“Good.” She smiles at me, and I smile right back.
When Ethan troops in moments later, topless and in his grey joggers—a winning combination if I do say so myself—I barely stop myself from salivating. At the same time, I continue to clutch Juniper at my side, feeling an inexplicable heat for them both.
