“And yet, here you are.” I pull her closer, enjoying how her body feels against mine. “Just five more minutes,” I whisper against her lips.
She melts into me, her resistance fading. “Fine.
Those five minutes turn into fifteen as we stand in my kitchen, trading lazy kisses. Each one feels like discovering something new about her. The way she sighs when my hands roam over her back. She likes to use her teeth to tug gently on my bottom lip. The way she arches into me like she can’t get close enough.
When we finally break apart, her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen. The sight makes me want to start all over again and never stop.
Yeah, I’m in deep.
The afternoon drags by. Without Ginger here, I suddenly don’t know what to do with myself. The Patriots game is over, and I’ve already eaten dinner.
Screw it.I grab my phone and type out a text.
Me: Put on your winter gear and meet me outside in five minutes.
I don’t offer any explanation.
Ginger: Okay.
I grin, grab my coat, gloves, and beanie, then head out.
When I arrive at her house, she’s nowhere in sight. Maybe I should’ve given her more time to work with. I step out into the kind of cold that burns your lungs a little, and start packing a snowball while I wait.
Her porch light flicks on, and the door swings open. She steps out bundled in a pink, puffy jacket, a white hat with a ridiculous purple pom-pom on top, and a scarf that’s wrapped around her neck four times. She shuts the door and walks to the edge of the porch.
“You’re late,” I call out, letting the snowball fly. It smacks her right in the shoulder.
Her gasp echoes through the yard. “Did you just throw a snowball at me?”
“Yep.” I’m already crouching to make another.
“You are so dead, Jordan!” She charges down the steps, scooping up snow in her mittened hands as she goes. Her first throw misses by a mile and lands in the street. The second one hits my arm, and she cheers like she’s won a championship.
“Oh, it’s on now, G,” I mutter.
The next few minutes are chaos with snow flying, Ginger squealing, and both of us slipping and sliding as we dodge snowballs while acting like little kids. We’re laughing so hard it’s difficult to throw. She has good aim when she’s not too far away, but I’ve got great aim all the time.
I duck behind a row of boxwoods and pack another snowball, waiting for her to come around the corner. Her boots crunch through the snow as she moves closer. And closer.
“Where’d you go?” she calls out in a teasing tone.
I pop out and nail her square in the chest.
She gasps. “You ambushed me.”
“That’s called strategy, G. Look it up.”
She lunges at me before I can react, tackling me around the waist. My boots slip as I fight for traction, and we go down in a tangle of limbs, our joined laughter spilling into the cold night air. My back hits first, and she lands on top of me, snow flying up all around us like confetti shot from a cannon.
We go still for a second, breathing hard and grinning like fools. There’s snow clinging to her hair and jacket, and I swear I’ve never seen anything more adorable.
“Truce?” she asks, breathless.
I brush the snow from her cheeks. “Maybe.”
Then I kiss her cold lips until they turn warm, and my dick is fighting to find room in my snow-dampened jeans.
When we part, she smiles down at me. “You cheated, you know.”
