When we arrived yesterday, the hedges and trees had the lightest dusting of snow and frost. Now the branches bend underthe white burden that reflects the sunlight, transforming the landscape into a winter wonderland.
My stomach flips with excitement as I turn around to raid my duffel bag for new clothes. I didn’t unpack last night, so I have to dig around until I find a thick sweater with B-Tech’s mascot on it.
I can hear Nate rummage around next door, so I tuck everything under my arm and sprint out of my room, hellbent on reaching the bathroom before him. I’m three feet away when the door opens, and Hart steps right into my path. His blue eyes widen almost comically just before we collide.
My breath is knocked out of me since, unlike last time this happened, I’m not wearing any protective gear, flailing my arms as I try to take hold of the door frame.
Instead, Hart grabs onto my lower arm, pulling me into his naked chest. For a split second my lips brush his shoulder, my free hand finally landing on his hip to steady myself.
I bite the inside of my cheek as our lower bodies bump together, then take a quick step back. The subtle smell of Hart’s shower gel surrounds me, conjuring up completely unwanted memories of his bared neck and soft moans.
I chase them away with a resolute shake of my head.
“Watch it!” I huff as I pull my hand out of his grip. My skin is tingling from his touch so I rub it on my shirt.
Hart slowly raises a single brow at me before bending down to reach for the clothes I dropped.
“Good morning to you, too, Nicholas,” he says as he holds out my boxer shorts.
Gritting my teeth I snatch them out of his hands. “It’s Nicko,” I correct him.
“What?”
“It’s Nicko. No one calls me Nicholas.”
Hart tilts his head, his gaze sweeping over me as if seeing me for the first time.
I cringe inwardly, shifting my stance from one foot to the other. I’m suddenly hyper aware of my tousled hair and rumpled sleep shirt. My naked toes curl on the dark hardwood floor. He’s reading way too much into my words, I can tell, which makes me regret them.
“Not trying to buddy up to you, Hart. I just want to make it less weird in front of my parents.”
Now he’s raising his other brow at me, and I instantly resent him for the way he can separately control them.
“Not pretending to be your brother would have made it less weird.”
Yes, well, not blowing him in the locker room would have probably helped, too. I don’t say that out loud, but the way he drops his gaze to my lips lets me know he must have shared my thoughts.
I jut my chin out in a silent challenge, and Hart clears his throat, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. For a moment I’m distracted by the way his bicep bulges with the gesture.
“Well. You probably shouldn’t call me by my last name then,Nicko.”
I narrow my eyes at the way he emphasizes my nickname, listening for a hint of mockery.
“Fine,” I conclude when I can’t find anything to pick on. “Now let me into the bathroom,Xander.”
“You have to get out of my way first,Nicko.”
Realizing he’s right this one time; I step out of his way. As he walks past me, our shoulders bump, setting my skin on fire.
***
After breakfast Hart, ever the good boy, offers to help clear the driveway. We only have three shovels, so dad leaves to write the script for his next podcast interview.
Five minutes pass in the silence of honest work before Nate throws the first snowball. I’ve seen this coming and prepared accordingly, so I fire right back at him. And then, just because Hart gives one of his annoyingcome on now, boyssighs, I throw the next one athim.
I don’t put much power behind it, but it hits him smack dab in the forehead. The look on his face sends me into a fit of laughter, and I have to lean on my shovel for support.
“Oh, so you find that funny?”
