13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Toby

O peration: Rehydrate Prune .

It's what I've deemed tonight's activities and any others that follow if this works to get Anna to loosen the fuck up.

She's still holed up in the bedroom like she has been all day, alone and not at all enjoying any bit of the cabin life.

I, on the other hand, have ventured out into the snow to retrieve the perfect sticks to use in the fire, gathered more firewood to keep this plan alight, and gotten myself two sheets to the wind.

Not three, because it gets ugly when I hit three sheets to the wind, but some of us know how to have fun.

Even alone .

I even took the time to record some guitar playing and sent it off to Leo for him to do his thing with the online shit that keeps our band at the forefront.

Now, I'm making my way down the hallway, cheeks burning with windburn and my favorite hoodie thrown on for warmth. It's half-zipped and doesn't match my gray joggers, but after freezing outside, comfort won. "Oh, Ms. Prune," I call, knocking on her door. "Time to come out of your cave."

"No!"

"C'mon," I shout at the door. "There's that word again!"

"Go away, Jeffers."

"I will knock until you come out."

Just to drive the point home, I tap my knuckles against the wood again.

"I'm working. "

"But it's nighttime," I retort. I have no clue what time it actually is. Hours and days just flow different when you're on rock star time. "Work's over now."

"Not when it comes to you," Anna growls from inside the room.

It's silent for a moment. No rustling, no shifting lights beneath the door.

So, I knock again.

" Go away ."

A slam against the panel separating the two of us has me jumping back a foot and a grin breaking out across my face.

Time for a different tactic.

"Aren't you hungry?" I ask, placing a hand against the smooth surface. "I'm hungry."

"If you ask me to make you food, you're getting locked out in the snow."

"Too late." I snicker. "You already tried that once."

Grumbling is all I get back.

"Knock, knock."

"Saying the words doesn't change the fact that I have plenty of crap to do in here, Jeffers."

Snorting, I replace my words with the action, except this time I don't stop pounding my palm against the surface. I do it so long I find a beat to it, keeping time in an eighth of a beat.

Mac would be so proud.

Lifting my arm, I'm halfway to adding a second hand to the mix when the door flies open and a flustered Anna snaps, " What ?"

Smirking, I snag her wrist before she can slam the door in my face and pull. She fights my hold, but doesn't break free from me as I practically drag her into the living room, not stopping until we reach the fireplace.

Heat radiates from the stone, the flames on the smaller side, while the coals underneath burn red hot.

"Dinnertime," I mutter and drop down to the blanket-covered floor with crossed legs, careful not to disturb the trays already laid out.

"Um," Anna chokes out, her wrist twisting in my grip, "no, thank you."

"Not too good for weenie-roast, are you?"

I look up at the woman with a grin when she makes some kinda noise that's stuck between a scoff and a snort. "Uh."

Clicking my tongue against my teeth, I tug on her wrist and nod at the literal sticks leaning against the hearth. Sharpened and waiting. Just as I have done for the last twenty years of my life. "You know how this works, right?"

I'm teasing her. Pushing her. Waiting to see if she'll take the chance to live a little.

It's probably a dick move, but I'm nothing if not persistent. Possibly even an asshole.

I accept this lot in life.

She just stares expectantly at the fire with an arched brow and a robotic shake to her head.

"It's not gonna bite you."

Her pale throat moves with a swallow. "Why?"

The question catches me off guard, my grin slipping. "Why what?"

It's not lost on me, despite the buzz I feel fading away and a heaviness filing in, that her sight has yet to move away from the snapped off branches.

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's the cabin experience," I explain, my voice dropping as I watch the flames dance. "We used to come up here every winter. Roast hotdogs and make s'mores. It's what you do."

My stomach drops as my slipup settles into my ears before the question is even off her lips.

"We?"

She doesn't know.

"You know what? Never mind." I push up to my feet with a tightness in my throat and an itch to my palms. "I need a smoke."

Or ten.

I stride over to my jacket, fumbling for the cigarette pack tangled in the lining.

Sinking .

It feels like I'm sinking in a pit of quicksand fueled only by my emotions and getting deeper with each moment.

"Jeffers."

I growl, my jaw ticking as I yank. The pack finally comes free, but not without ripping the pocket. Emotions spiraling, I feel the heat from the fire on my chest, rising up my neck. I move to the door that slams at my back with a cigarette already hanging from my lips and the cold slapping me in the face.

" Jeffers ."