“Shut up,” I giggle, nudging him with my elbow.
Nash smirks, adjusting his stance near the pile of wood, ready to put on a show. “You might want to stay seated for this one, roomie. Things are about to get steamy.” His teasing tone sends a warmth through my chest that has nothing to do with the fire pit.
I lean back in my seat, raising my brow. “You boys better deliver.”
The banter between us lightens the mood even more, and as Keaton lifts the axe with surprising ease, I can’t help but feel lucky to be surrounded by people who make everything feel like home—even in the middle of nowhere.
Filming the band chopping wood was more fun than I expected. It felt like the guys really relaxed and even let Darius in a little, letting him join in on their back and forth jokes and light hearted competition. They were even calm as he wrapped his arms around me, “showing me the proper way to hold an axe.”
“Hey,” Nash whispers softly in my ear, pulling me from my thoughts. He rubs his hands up and down my arms, his touch familiar and warm. “You ready for this?”
I relax into his hold, taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly. “No.”
He spins me around and studies me for a second before tucking my hair behind my ears. “Talk to me. What has you so tense?”
“What doesn’t?” Abruptly, the weight of the world seems to land on my shoulders. It’s too much for one person. “Tristan is gone. There’s trouble brewing at the label. Now I need to give them a new song and I don’t think any of these are good enough.” I hold up my notebook.
“Did Izzy tell you something?” Concern clouds his eyes, and he glances over his shoulder as if he’s about to call the others over here.
“No, no,” I say quickly, not wanting him to get them. “It’s a gut feeling. Years of experience and knowing the wrath Dickless is capable of when he doesn’t get his way.”
“We’ll be here for anything he throws our way. We’ll tackle it together.” He gives me that slanted smile that I love so much, warming my heart more than any fire could. “Now on to your other worries. The song I read was freaking amazing. Why are you selling yourself short?”
My heart pounds in my chest, a rhythm that can’t be healthy. “These songs… They’re deeply personal. Like really, really deep.”
“Like I was in your pussy this morning?” His lips split into a shit eating grin. I gasp and smack his shoulder, making him laugh and jump away. “Sorry, baby. Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Ugh. So rude, Nash!” I cross my arms over my chest, but I can’t help the wobble of my lips as I fight a smile.
“Okay, on a serious note. Aren’t all of your songs deep on some level? You haven’t shied away from talking about painful breakups.” He grabs me by the hips and draws me to him until our bodies are flush.
“Not like this. I wrote most of them when I was in rehab. I can’t bear to touch the ones about Tristan coming back in my life, especially with him gone again, and—” I cut off, glancing down as a blush heats my cheeks. “And I can’t share the ones about crushing on my band.”
Nash lifts my head with a finger under my chin. “You write songs about me, baby?”
“What’s that?” I yell over my shoulder. “Yeah, I’m coming.” I run away from Nash before he can get any answers from me, but he growls and chases me. His arms wrap around me before I can reach Keaton across the clearing of our campground where he’s dropping a log in front of a chair.
“Got you now, you little tease,” Nash says, lifting me off the ground.
“Help me!” I reach my arms out for Keaton, but Nash spins me and I lose sight of him. “Noooo!”
Suddenly, I’m dropped in a pile of snow, the drastic temperature difference has an instant shiver running down my spine and igniting a shriek of laughter from me. I twist on the ground, watching as Nash falls back on his butt away from me, unable to control his own delight. Blake and Keaton don’t waste any time joining in on the snow fight.
“Oh, you’re going to get it!” I pick up some snow, quickly packing it into a ball before tossing it in Nash’s direction, who’s trying to scoot backward from me. It hits him square in the chest with a satisfying thump.
I can see Keaton reaching out to help me up, but I wave him away, encouraging him to join the fray instead. He’s hesitant, which surprises me. It’s not like he’s not fun, but I guess he doeshave a measure of distance between him and everyone else with how he doesn’t talk much.
After pausing for a moment, he crouches and gathers snow in his big hands. That’ll be an icy surprise for someone. But it won’t be me! I scramble behind a tree, my laugh trailing behind me.
As I glance around the trunk, I find Darius standing off to the side of the chaos. He watches us with that chiseled smirk of his playing at his lips, finding joy in our antics, yet still on the outskirts, not invited in. A twinge of guilt tugs at me, but I’m distracted by exploding snow as a ball hits the tree I’m peeking around.
Cold envelopes my hands as I scoop my next ball and aim for the first person I see. It’s a free-for-all snow fight. I’m not sure any of us pick a specific target, we simply let them fly through the air.
Our laughter echoes off the trees surrounding us until we stop out of exhaustion, all of us sprawled on the ground covered in snow and gasping for breath.
Nash pushes himself up from where he had fallen and reaches his hand out to me, lifting me to my feet. His hands brush over my clothes, trying to get as much snow off as possible even though it’s already soaked through to my skin.
Blake wiggles to get the icy flakes out of his clothes where they fell down his shirt. His glasses have wet droplets clinging to the lenses. He takes them off, eyeing the glass carefully and shaking his head. So fucking handsome.
