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6

ROSI

The knockat the door was beyond unexpected, but seeing Austin on the other side, unmistakable even beneath his puffy hood and the balaclava tugged down below his chin, was downright shocking after our conversation earlier.

“Um, hi,” I said as I felt Cora pop over my shoulder.

“Hi.” Austin raised a gloved hand in a wave. “Remember how I said I’d give you a heads-up about any more ambushes by the press? Well get your gear on because we have to be outside in ten minutes. Sorry.”

“That’s not much of a heads-up,” I said, panic starting to set in. I was sure I’d read all the fine print.

“I literally just found out,” he said, shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other. “Don’t worry. I can do most of the talking if you want. But I think they mainly want vids of us on the playground.”

“Playground? As in swings?” I laughed.

“No, as in snowballs, sledding, and bunny hills.” Austin smiled, and his bright white teeth showed against his golden, tanned skin.

My stomach tightened. Why was he so damned irresistible? It made me mad, mostly at myself for allowing any physical reaction. But also at him for being so cagey and lying to me earlier. “What if I refuse to go?”

Austin frowned and stopped shifting, as if he hadn’t considered a woman turning down any offer of his. That pissed me off even more.

“Why would you?” Cora asked, shoving my parka in my hands. “You’re here to have fun, and what’s more fun than sledding?”

Traitor. I tried to silently call her out with my eyes. But she only grinned back and tossed her hair, flirting with Austin as she turned her attention to him. For some reason, that upset me even more.

“If she’s not going, I will,” she said with a wink and a little shimmy of her shoulders.

“Fine I’ll go!” I pushed by her, pulling on my gloves. “Stop making Austin uncomfortable and get my boots.”

We didn’t say much on the walk to the playground. Two sad tweens moped just inside the exit to the grounds. Above the door, a holosign flashed the word “closed.” Austin noticed and offered to take some holos with them, which perked them right up. I began snapping holos as Austin balanced each kid on a knee and posed. He laughed and joked with them in a natural, easygoing manner. I had fun despite my best attempts not to. So much fun that by the time we walked into the blinding light and breath-stealing cold of the arctic, I’d nearly forgotten what we were there for.

That ended as the drones flew overhead with recording lights on. I held up an arm to shield myself. The sun reflected off the snowy ground around us. It was hard to keep an eye on what was happening until Austin offered me a sunshade, which I gratefully snapped over my eyes.

My heart sunk when I processed the sheer number of drones surrounding the area.

“It’s the time of day,” Austin said.

“It’s not the sun I’m worried about,” I whispered back, and he seemed to notice the hovercams for the first time.

His response was to put an arm around me and pull me to his side. It was unexpected, and I stumbled, but the security of his embrace helped as he marched us through the mele to the small hill ahead.

“How about we take a sled and see if we can outrun them?” Austin offered against my ear. His hot breath, so contrasting to the weather, sent shivers down my body.

I couldn’t help but smile and nod. We crested the top of the hill and found a far longer descent on the other side. Bright red sleds sat on top of the hill in rows along with ski equipment and snowboards tucked into compartments of AC glass for easy access.

Austin let go of me and gestured to the nearest sled. I climbed on and felt him settle in behind me. His body pressed against my torso and his long legs wrapped around mine. He reached in front of us to grab hold of the rope and press a button on the sled just as a camera swooped in front of my face.

“A button?” I asked.

In answer, he pushed it, and I was thrown back into him as we whipped forward and down the hill, leaving the camera behind.

The solar-powered sled felt like it had rockets firing out the back end as Austin steered us in a zigzag down the hill at incredible speed, avoiding the hovercams each time they floated toward us. With nothing in the way and the feeling of flying, I reached out my arms to either side, threw my head back, and whooped.

When we glided to the bottom of the hill, Austin whispered, “Hold on,” and pushed the button again. We flew forward, snow spraying on either side of us as we glided through the center of two walls made of snowy bricks. He pulled the rope hard, and we tipped sideways as he spun us around the edge of one of the walls. I screamed like a kid on a roller coaster and laughed as we came to a sudden stop.

Behind the wall sat a veritable mountain of pre-prepped snowballs, waiting for a fight with the equally snowy fort on the opposite side. But I didn’t want to be on the opposite side from Austin. I was completely comfortable right there, between his legs, and found myself disappointed it was over.

“They’ll find us in a minute,” he said, climbing off and removing the extra warmth of his body I’d felt even through his layers of clothing.