Read Online Snowed In by Rachel Hawthorne - Free Book Online

my life.
    “Want to give it a try?” he asked.
    He held the brush in front of my face. I made a fist to stop my hand from shaking before I took it from him.
    “It’s okay to paint over the stencil,” he said.
    I nodded quickly. “I think I’ve got it.”
    “Are you afraid of heights?”
    “No, why?”
    “Because you’re shaking.”
    “I’m just a little cold. Not used to the weather yet.”
    Cold? What a lie! I was practically burning up.
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    “Then I definitely don’t want you on my snow volleyball team.”
    “Snow volleyball?”
    “Yeah, me and the guys are gonna play later this afternoon. You could come watch us.” Was he asking me out? Should I tell him about Chase?
    “You know,” he added, “meet people. Besides, studies have shown that staying indoors can lead to depression.”
    “And emergency rooms have shown that staying outdoors can lead to frostbite, loss of limbs, and freezing to death.”
    “Only if you’re careless.”
    I shook my head. “It’s so cold out there.”
    “Not once you get used to it.”
    “You know, if you ever went to Texas you’d probably complain about the heat.”
    “I never complain about weather. It is what it is.”
    “You’d complain.” I twisted around slightly to make a point—and I’m absolutely certain it was a very valid point and would have nailed his butt—
    but he was so close and his blue eyes were sparkling as if he were amused . . .
    And then they weren’t.
    They got totally serious. And he dipped his 82
    gaze to my lips. That started them tingling. My body got hotter. How would I explain being taken to the ER with a case of heat stroke?
    I wanted to laugh, but this wasn’t funny. It was, like, maybe we both realized that being up there on the ladder together, so close together, wasn’t a smart move.
    Because we had nowhere to go except toward each other and then figuring out if we preferred the dab or the swirl.
    And we’d barely had a conversation, but here I was, certain he was going to kiss me.
    I watched as his Adam’s apple slid up and down.
    “Um, so, think you’re okay with the stenciling?” he asked.
    His voice sounded like he hadn’t had anything to drink in years. Dry and scratchy.
    I nodded. “I think so.”
    To my utter mortification, I didn’t sound much better.
    “Okay, then, I’ll leave you to it.” Only, he stayed where he was, looking at me like he’d never really seen me before. Like maybe he was under a spell. I didn’t want him to go, but I didn’t want him to stay. For the first time in my 83
    life, when it came to a guy, I was confused about what I wanted.
    “Are you afraid of heights?” I asked, to jar us out of whatever was happening here.
    “What?”
    “You’re not leaving.”
    “Right.” He shook his head, grinned. “Right.” Then he climbed down the ladder.
    I took a deep breath, not realizing until that moment that I hadn’t been breathing.
    It got really quiet as I worked on the stenciling.
    He went back to painting the wall. It was kinda weird because I kept thinking that this would always be our room, even when strangers stayed in it. It was the room where we’d talked and worked together. The room where a spark between us almost got started.
    But since the spark hadn’t ignited, we shared an awkward silence.
    “So, this snow volleyball . . . What do you do?
    Toss snowballs at each other and swat them back and forth?” I asked.
    He laughed a little too loudly, like maybe he was as uncomfortable with whatever had almost happened on the ladder as I was.
    “No. It’s just volleyball. You know volleyball, right?”
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    “Yeah, I know volleyball. But it’s never included the element of snow, so I’m just trying to picture how it works.”
    “You know anything about beach volleyball?” I glanced over my shoulder. He was watching me instead of painting. I felt a small thrill at the realization that I had his attention.
    “Yes, I know beach volleyball.”
    “So imagine snow