9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Toby

W hen my fingers are about to freeze despite the amount of alcohol heating my blood, I finally slide my ass into the tub and attempt to keep strumming on my guitar. The water makes it difficult, the song evading me, but I don't let that stop me. I gulp down the last of my drink and reach for the bottle on the steps next to me. As I pour another, I hear an incredulous, "Seriously?"

Blinking through the fog of whiskey and steam, I make out Anna standing opposite the hot tub, her hand wrapped around the neck of my floating guitar.

Oops.

Her little growl of irritation makes me smirk. She tips the guitar, draining the water from its body, then disappears as quickly as she appeared, guitar in tow.

"I wasn't done with that," I snap, arms stretched wide.

"I know. Just—" Her voice fades into the misty air, the dim lights overhead doing little to pierce the steam. "I've got the articles lined up. All we have to do is decide when."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I think it's the best bet if you want this tamed."

My brow furrows as I slide through the water to stand on the side closest to Anna's pacing figure.

"Gimme my guitar back."

"No."

The single word has that familiar tickle of irritation running up the back of my neck and tensing in the base of my skull. "Anna."

She moves to the bench along the cabin wall, her head tilted away from me like it'll help her ignore me. Irritated, I swing a leg over the tub's edge and hoist myself out, water dripping from my soaked clothes. I tower over her when she cranes her neck to finally look up, her phone plastered to the side of her head as water cascades from me and lands on her covered knees. "Jesus, Jeffers!"

"Gimme my guitar," I growl.

I could easily take it. Grab it and head back to the bubbling water calling my name. It's just sitting next to her, propped up against the back of the bench with a towel underneath to catch the water dripping down the glossed surface.

But what would be the fun in that.

"So you can ruin another one? No." Anna's scoff drives straight to my skull like nails on a chalkboard.

"And you're the instrument police now?" I return her scoff and lean in close enough that I can hear the voice of my band's manager speaking through the phone.

"Toby," Anna shrieks, her manicured hands flying up to thrust against my chest. It only serves to release more of the water trapped in the fabric when I refuse to step back, the phone tossed aside and forgotten. "You're getting me wet!"

A dark chuckle escapes me as I lean in and rest my grip on the back of the bench, one hand on each side of her. "Is that so?"

Her spine snaps straight at the inuendo, her hands pulling away from my chest as if I'm on fire. Even her breath barely lifts her chest.

Her fiery gaze collides with mine, her words vehement, her hands still stuck up in the air. "Back up."

I smirk, my tongue poking out to wet my lips as her breath flutters over my face.

And then her eyes flick to the movement so fast I question if I really saw it.

"Guitar." The single word comes out somewhere between a growl and a low groan of frustration.

"If it'll get you out of my face, take it. I don't care." The venom bites me through her words, her eyes narrowed as she stares me down.

The pure lava she's flinging my way with just a look is almost enough to heat my blood and keep me in place if only long enough to see what she'd do next. But I stand tall and snatch the guitar from its seat beside her. With a huff, I walk across the porch, swing my leg over the side of the tub and sink right back into the steaming water. Guitar and all. My back faces her, but I still hear the scoff that rings across the wooden surface between us.

"We're going to be here for a while, Jeffers. If you ruin that thing, I'm not getting you another one."

"Oh yeah?" I mutter and strum, this time keeping the strings of the instrument above the bubbling surface warming my skin. "Maybe I'll need something else to do with my hands." Tossing a grin over my shoulder, I catch Anna shuddering—whether from my comment or the cold is still up to interpretation.

Either way, I laugh.

"You're literally the worst person to be stuck on a mountain with," Anna growls, the sound of her phone unlocking sharp.

"Oh, just you wait, Ms. Prune." I play into the night, lit by twinkling lights above.

Just. You. Wait.