10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Toby

B y the time Anna makes her retreat into the cabin, the ends of my hair are practically icicles and my fingers are too wrinkled to keep playing. The propane heater in the corner of this little setup is meant for keeping the space just on the good side of freezing during the winter days, but now that the night has thoroughly claimed the land, it's having a hard time battling the cold.

And that's my cue.

I inhale deeply, then haul out of the water, snagging my guitar and the bottle that I tuck under my arm and make a run for the door.

Thunk.

My shoulder slams into the glass, rattling the pane in the frame, but otherwise unmoved by the impact.

"What the fuck?"

A shiver racks over my limbs as I jiggle the handle a second time, but nothing happens.

"Motherfucker," I mutter and glance around the porch for a better solution, only to come up empty. "Anna!"

Nothing.

No movement, no shadows. Just a big heap of nothing on the other side of the pane.

"Goddammit." I cross to the main cabin entrance, my bare feet stinging with the threat of frostbite, and punch the code into the keypad.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Flashing red warns me against what was perceived as the wrong code, the lock remaining firmly in place.

"Son of a motherfucker!" I slam my knuckles into the heavy wood and punch the code in again, this time coming back with a flash of green that has me barreling into the house with heaving breaths. " Fuck ."

My body rattles violently, teeth chattering as I slam the door shut and slam my back against it. My head thunks against the wood as I close my eyes, feeling my muscles vibrating with chills that dislodge trails of water from my wet clothes.

"Hot cocoa?"

Anna's voice, dripping with snark, snaps my eyes open. She stands next to the island with a steaming mug held to her pale lips, eyebrow arched.

"Throw some Bailey's in it and I'm in." Another massive shiver takes over my limbs so intense that I prop the guitar against the counter, setting the bottle on top.

My shirt is the next to go, dropping at my feet in a wet plop .

I decide that the shorts really should stay for the moment while I wait for Anna, but when my gaze crashes to hers, she remains mostly unmoved. She sips her coca, her gaze fixed on me.

"Water's still hot in the kettle. Packets in the cabinet."

She brushes past me, that damn mug still held high to her mouth and it's then that I realize she's using the ceramic to hide a damn smirk.

I draw in a breath through flared nostrils.

Two can play games.

"Thanks," I snap out and hook my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts. They drop to the floor with a matching wet flop and join the puddle. The air bites at my damp skin, but that doesn't stop me from snagging a mug from the cabinet and filling the whole thing with the chocolate liquor from above the kitchen sink. I pop the mug in the microwave, the ceramic clanking against the glass turntable obnoxiously, and forty-five seconds later, I'm stalking across the open space to stand in front of the fireplace.

The heat is a welcome relief, thawing my muscles and bones.

Feels pretty good on my cock, too.

Glancing over my shoulder, I catch Anna perched on the couch with her face buried in her laptop and her hand absently raising her mug between her face and the table.

"Do you ever st—"

"Jeffers!"

Gotcha.

"What?" I snicker as Anna throws her hands up to cover her eyes. "Not enjoying the view?"

"God," she growls, lifting her entire laptop to block the sight of my bare ass on full display. A full blown laugh bursts past my lips when her pale face turns the same shade as her hair. "Where are your clothes?"

"Hm." I shrug and rotate, the flames now licking at my exposed ass cheeks. "They were wet." Sipping from my hot Bailey's, I run a hand through my hair to brush it back out of my face. "Didn't wanna catch cold. Or whatever that wives tale is."

The disgruntled noise that escapes the woman buried behind not just her laptop, but an added pillow as she sinks further onto her back in the couch, makes me chuckle.

"Go put something on," Anna snarls from behind her makeshift wall.

"Why?" My free hand goes to my hip as I sip from the mug. "Being naked is good for your health, I've heard."

"And you decide now's the time to test this theory?" she screeches, the top of her head barely visible over her protective wall, that same tight bun keeping her reddened forehead exposed.

"Now's a good a time as any, ain't it?"

"No!"

I snicker at her irritation and take a step closer to the center of the room when the flames lick at my ass a little too hot.

"Do. Not," Anna warns, her words dripping with so much venom, I'm surprised I'm still standing.

"Fine," I say, shrugging my nonchalance. "I'll go put something on."

I throw back the remaining sip of my drink and set the mug on the mantle below the TV. Taking my sweet-ass time, I stride across the living space to the kitchen and snag my duffel from behind the door.

With the strap secured at my shoulder, I start down the hallway off the kitchen but pause when I hear footsteps at my back. My lips quirk up when the sound quickens, Anna's feet carrying her closer to a realization I don't think she's prepared for.

"Whoa, wait," she calls, catching up to me and grabbing my elbow for the second time tonight. My cock bounces when I spin to face her, my laugh bubbling up at her hand hovering below her chin to block her view. "What are you doing?"

"Changing," I muse, my smirk untamable as I gesture with my shoulder to the room at my back. The same one I know Anna claimed. "Like you said."

"No."

"You say that a lot."

"No, I don't."

"Repeating the word won't change anything."

Her brows dip. "Change what, exactly?"

Mine shoot up in amusement. "You didn't scope out the entire cabin?"

"No," she snaps. "I've been working, all thanks to you."

I nod and purse my lips, then gesture back to the room. "Well, I'm gonna …"

"Jeffers, I claimed this room," Anna states, her shoulders squaring off like this is some kind of competition or argument she can win. "Go pick another one."

"Uh-huh." My tongue flicks over my grinning lips. "I saw you brought your shit back but not mine. It's cool, though."

"We are not rooming together." She grabs the strap of my duffle to keep me from stepping backward. What she doesn't realize, though, is that she's dropped her protective blinder and stepped closer to me, the heat of her rage radiating from her and crashing against my bare skin.

Her frustration makes me giddy, her proximity tingling me with excitement.

"Except—"

"No," she grinds out through gritted teeth, that reddish tinge stuck on her face.

"—you claimed the only room in the house."