The thought has me slowing down enough that the others can catch up to me. Ash bumps shoulders with me on the left, while Cam grabs my elbow on the right. I know they’re concerned, know they’re just trying to help, but right now sympathy is the last thing I need—especially when it’s sympathy that I don’t deserve.
I want to shrug them off, to tell them to back off, but none of this is their fault, either. So in the end, all I do is knock my own shoulder into Ash’s even as I wrap my arm around Cam’s shoulders. Then I turn to grin at Luc, who is walking right behind me, a worried look on his face that I know I’m responsible for. Even Ophelia looks uncomfortable, like she’s aware she missed something important and doesn’t quite know how to act in the face of all this tension.
Time to change that, and fast.
“So, who’s up for a party?” I ask, reaching into my back pocket for my phone. “I got a couple of texts earlier about one at Mandy’s house and one at—”
“Seriously?” Luc interrupts me. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
Damn straight. “I was also going to ask if you wanted to stop by Danny’s and get some weed, but—”
“You’re a jerk. You know that, Z?” Cam looks furious.
“I never said I wasn’t,” I tell her with a grin.
I glance at Ash, expecting him to say something to back me up, but he just looks sick. Goddamnit. Bad enough that I’ve already been to the ER today, but now I’m dragging them down with old baggage that none of us can escape from.
“You don’t have to front with us, man,” Luc says. “We get it—”
“No, you don’t.” The words pop out before I even know I’m going to say them. But I’m not doing this. Not here. Not now. And sure as hell not in front of Ophelia. “I’m fine.”
Ash actually grinds his teeth. It’s obvious he wants to say something, but unlike Luc and Cam, he’s very aware of the fact that Ophelia is with us. I wait for his frustration to get the better of him, but it doesn’t, and in the end he keeps his mouth shut.
That doesn’t mean Luc and Cam will, though. And I’m done with being the charity case of the week. Before I really know I’m going to do it, I turn and sprint toward the small community park at the end of the street. I can hear them behind me, their boots crunching on the new layer of snow that coats the ground all around us.
Reaching down, I cup a handful of snow as I wait for them to catch up. Then, after shaping it into a perfect ball, I fling it straight into Cam’s face.
For long seconds, nobody moves. Even Cam just stands there with her mouth open as snow drips off her eyelashes and down her cheeks.
“What the hell?” Luc demands, looking pissed all over again. But before he can say anything else, a snowball hits him square in the chest.
I glance over at Ophelia, who is grinning with pride. “Cool,” she says. “This is my first snowball fight.”
There’s something in her eyes, something that says maybe she understands where I’m coming from, though I don’t know how she could. I barely understand myself. Still, I’m not about to waste the opportunity she just presented me with.
“Your first snowball fight?” I demand, even as I scoop up more snow. “How is that possible?”
“There’s not much snow in New Orleans,” she answers dryly.
“Is that where you’re from?” I ask, suddenly curious to know more about her.
“Born and raised.”
“So, what brings you to Utah?” It seems a strange choice for a southern girl who’s never had enough snow to make even a few snowballs.
Instead of answering, she sends a second snowball careening straight toward me. It hits me right between the eyes, even stings a little. The girl is a fast learner.
I bend over and start to scoop up some snow, and she takes off through the park. She’s not used to snow, doesn’t know how to run in it, so she isn’t moving very fast. I could catch her without even trying, but instead I let her get a little ahead of me. Lull her into a false sense of security.
Sure enough, after she’s gotten twenty or so yards in front of me, she turns and looks over her shoulder. And that’s when I let her have it. I send a snowball soaring across the distance between us, then watch with satisfaction as it slams straight into her chin.
Some girls would probably get mad—kind of like Cam—but Ophelia just gives her tinkling-bell laugh, a pure, rich sound that echoes through the empty park. It gets to me, has a chill running down my spine even as my cock twitches a little. Especially when she gathers up more snow and makes a huge snowball. There’s something really sexy about a girl who knows how to play.
I don’t bother to turn around, don’t even think about dodging or running. I’m too fascinated by the laughter she makes no effort to hide and the sparkle in her normally sober eyes. I brace myself for impact, but once again this girl is full of surprises. She whirls at the last second and hurls her snowball straight at Luc.
By the time he figures out he’s about to get hit, it’s too late for him to do anything other than jump to the side. The snowball gets him in the arm, exploding into a million clumps of snow on impact.
And then, quite simply, it’s on.
The rules are simple: there are no rules. And while it may seem vicious to some, this no-holds-barred game is exactly what I need.
Since there are five of us, it starts out as pretty much every man for himself. Still, I stick close to Ophelia in case she runs into trouble. Running on snow can be treacherous, and the last thing I want is for her to slip and break a leg her first month in town. Especially when this is supposed to be about fun, not pain.
We end up running through the whole park twenty or thirty times, Ash and Luc hot on our heels the whole way. Snow is everywhere, so we have no problem making snowballs and lobbing them at the two guys whenever they get too close to us, but we focus so much attention on them that we forget to look out for Cam. Which is stupid on my part, because finding a hiding spot and then building a stockpile of ammunition is totally her modus operandi. She’s been doing it since we were kids.
Sure enough, we’re making yet another circuit of the park, trying to get to the retaining wall in the back corner so we can make our stand without worrying that someone will creep up behind us, when a volley of snowballs rains down on our heads. Cam has set herself up behind the art wall of one of the playscapes so that she’s perfectly shielded as she sends snowball after snowball flying at us. One after another, again and again and again, until we give up any attempt at fighting and instead look for a place to hide.
Ophelia tries to duck behind a teeter-totter, but it’s too exposed. As soon as we turn our attention to Cam, we’ll be sitting ducks for Luc and Ash, who are already circling.
Grabbing Ophelia’s hand, I pull her behind a large tree and flatten her against it with my body. She stiffens, but as the snowballs start flying, she figures out pretty quickly that I’m trying to protect her.
“Get down,” I shout as they start coming faster. Ash and Luc have obviously scented blood in the water, and they’re going to annihilate us if we don’t do something soon. “Start scooping up snow.”
“What’s that going to do?” she demands, even as she starts raking at the snow with her gloved hands. “They’ve got us.”
They do. I know they do. But I’m not willing to give up yet. This is Ophelia’s first snowball fight, and I started it. The least I can do is protect her if I can’t actually help her win it.
I bend down, making sure to keep her covered even as I start to scoop snow as well. “Make as many as you can,” I tell her, “But don’t throw any. Not yet.”
She turns her head, peeks over my shoulder. “You’re getting pummeled.”
“Doesn’t matter.” It’s not like I don’t spend the better part of every day surrounded by or falling into snow. Besides, Ophelia’s shivering already. If I move and she gets hit with a continual barrage of snow, she’ll probably end up with hypothermia or some such shit.