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“Stop smirking at me with that look in your eyes, Jesse,” I growl.
He holds up his hands in mock defeat, trying not to grin. “What look? Come on, how many fingers am I showing you?” He holds up two, I guess—I don’t really know.
“I think I need to lie down,” I say, stumbling over my words. Walking to a spot in the snow, I plop down and start to make a snow angel with my arms and legs.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks, shaking his head. “The snow could be yellow for all you know. But you took a nosedive. Nice, Ace.”
I giggle. “You’re funny, yellow snow.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fuck, man, get up.”
“No, come on, it’s fun.” I pull on his pants. Opening my jacket, I drawl, “Man, I’m hot.”
“Babe, keep your clothes on for the love of—” he says, while I stare at the growing bulge between his thighs.
“Aren’t you hot?” I ask, looking up at him and licking my lips, trying not to do the math of that bulge in my head.
“No, for once I’m the one who’s fucking cold,” he says, blowing on his hands.
“You’re so serious. Relax, will ya?” I mimic his frown, or try to is more like it.
He sighs and mutters something under his breath that I can’t make out. “Fuck, you are annoying.”
I snort and hum along to the trance music traveling down from the cabin in the distance. “I’m actually having fun in the snow. Aren’t you proud? And it’s not because of my butt planting, but by actual legit choice,” I say, focusing on the spinning stars.
“I think I bring out the talker in you.”
“Don’t remind me. Haven’t talked this much in ten fucking years.” I’m giggling like a teenager, but I don’t give a shit. This is fun.
“See? I’m good for something.” He chuckles and stares at me, and I pull on his pants again. “Stop pulling my leg,” he says, raising a brow, and damn, the way he growls is hot.
“Stop pulling my leg,” I mimic his deep voice. “You look even cuter when you’re angry. Your face gets all red. And you get that whole grumpy male pondering thing going on.” I giggle, motioning to his brows and mouth.
“What?” he asks as his forehead creases, one side of his mouth hiking up.
“There.” I point to his dark eyebrows. “There they go,” I tease. “You always have this resting serial killer face going on,” I say, motioning to the thin line of his mouth.
He glowers at me. “I don’t look like a serial killer.”
I snort, and he rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically.
“Okay, I look like an asshole sometimes, but damn, babe, you’re drunker than I thought,” he says, amusement ringing through his voice.
“Yep, I’m drunk… I’m druuuuuuunk!” I yell, and I can feel it now. I’m never this loose. “Do you ever smile when you are not with me, snowboard guy?”
He shakes his head but can’t hide the grin behind his hand, taking my breath away once again. “The left side of your mouth hikes up more than the right,” I say, pointing to his face.
He brushes a hand over his stubble.
“And your eyes, they get all dark and brooding, and I can’t decide if you have silver eyes or gray, or blue. It pisses me off.”
“My eyes piss you off?”
“I have been looking into them these last days, and I still can’t decide the color.”
He rolls his eyes. “You are unbelievable.”
“Yes, I am, and I’m embracing my drunkenness. Relax,” I slur, pulling him down again until he’s lying next to me. Looking into my eyes, he leans back a little.
