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Not anymore.I smile grimly. “Nope.”
“No boyfriend?” Eli asks lazily. We both look at him, and he shrugs. “Just wondering. It seems like important information.”
“No. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He sighs. “You poor thing. If you ever want to fix that—”
“Shut up,” Riven says, closing his eyes.
Call me,Eli mouths, winking. I snort, using my last piece of pancake to sop up the leftover jam, then sit back in my seat, fully satisfied.
“So, what happens now? What do you guys do when you can’t leave the house?”
Eli leans forward, meeting my eyes. “How do you feel about Uno?” He asks very seriously.
Eight
Daisy
Riven’s right; the storm does stop. By noon, the snowfall is just a gentle pitter, and by two, the skies are completely clear. The guys all convene in the lounge, getting ready to shovel snow before it freezes. I tag along and start getting dressed, too.
“We really can handle it ourselves,” Riven says, frowning. “I don’t want you to aggravate your neck.”
“My neck is fine,” I insist. “Really. The pills worked; it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
He gives me a stern look. “Just because you’re not experiencing pain, doesn’t mean that you’re not injured.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promise. “Seriously. I’m not going to sit around like a princess while you do all the work.”
He sighs, handing me a shovel. It’s so big I struggle to lift it. Jesus. Being around the guys makes me feel like I’ve shrunk. Everything about them is big; their bodies, their equipment, their furniture. And, unfortunately, their clothes.
“You can wear your little pink jacket as an undercoat,” Eli says, sifting through the hall closet. “But you’ll need something on top until you work up a sweat.” I peep under his arm and see that the closet is full of skiwear, tightly packed together.
“Wow. You have so many jackets.”
“Get one every tournament,” he says distractedly, pulling out a red jacket, holding it up against me, then shoving it back in.
“You compete?”
“He’s a national champion downhill skier,” Riv cuts in, tying his bootlaces. I get a brief glimpse of tight, rounded glutes as he bends over, before forcing myself to look away, my face heating.
“Here you are.” Eli pulls out a puffy white jacket with his name emblazoned across the back. “This one’s a bit small for me, so it might not completely drown you.” He helps me into it, and I try to fasten it up, but some of my hair gets tangled in the zip. I wince as my scalp burns, trying to tug myself free, but the strands are wedged tight in the little zipper.
Suddenly, I feel big hands on my shoulders. I go very still as the dark scent of spice and whiskey fills my nose. Cole carefully eases the zipper free, then twists my hair together in a ponytail, tucking it down the back of my coat. His fingers are unbelievably gentle, sending sparks rushing across my skin. I swallow through my dry mouth as he steps back.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Why is she even coming?” He grumbles. “How is she going to shovel snow when she can’t even dress herself?”
I scowl at him. “Oh, I’m sureshecan learn.She’snot totally stupid.” I might be small, but I’m strong.
He raises an eyebrow, pulls a pair of gloves out of his pocket, and tosses them over his shoulder at me. “Just try not to freeze,” he mutters.
Finally, we’re all suited and booted, and we step out into the snow. It’s the first time I’ve properly seen where the boys live, and the view takes my breath away. We’re midway up the mountain, looking down over forests of pines. Everything has been blanketed in snow, and the whole landscape glimmers, flashing delicate blue and silver as it reflects the early spring sunlight. I look up. Peaks rise around us, looming over our heads. “Wow.”
Eli grins. “Sweet, right?”
“More than sweet.” I look around, taking everything in. My fingers itch for a paintbrush, and I wince as I remember my mangled canvases. I’ll have to make sure to get some great reference photos before I leave. “What’s that over there?” I point to a dilapidated stone hut on the edge of the drive. Eli follows my gaze.
