“You want to know what I hate about the snow?” he asks, his breath fogging out in front of him. My heart beats quicker in my chest as he smiles at me.

“Sure.”

He leans in, and I hold my breath

“Snowball fights suck,” he whispers in my ear.

Right at that moment, a chunk of snow gets dropped down into the back of my shirt. The coldness seeps through my skin, all the way to my bones, and I let out a squeal, spinning around, wondering what the hell just happened.

Jax has moved behind me and has an innocent grin on his face, his hands raised to his side. Snowflakes dot his inky black hair and, with him dressed all in black, he kind of contrasts with the snow covering everything.

“I swear it wasn’t me.” But he’s grinning like a total guilty person.

I narrow my eyes at him as I bend down and scoop up some snow.

He laughs, jumping backward off the porch and down onto the snow-covered path.

I ball the snow in my hand and raise my hand to throw it.

“How good of an aim do you have?” Hunter asks with a devious grin.

I shrug. “I don’t know. I haven’t spent much time throwing snowballs, or balls, or anything really.”

“Let’s get backup then.” He bends down and grabs some snow to make a snowball for himself.

“You guys are seriously ganging up on me?” Jax asks as he backs up.

I’d feel bad, except he’s laughing and smiling. So, I throw the snowball at him …

And it hits him right in the face.

Everyone freezes. Even me.

“Okay, that was like the perfect aim ever,” Hunter says, breaking the silence.

We all laugh, and then a snowball fight breaks out.

We’re running around like lunatics when Zay wanders out onto the porch. He doesn’t join us. He just stands there and watches with his arms crossed. But he has this strange look on his face, like he’s trying to figure something out. Or maybe it’s like he’s trying to put a puzzle together. What that puzzle is, though, I’m not sure. And I don’t really care, either. All I care about is that this moment is perfect.

But I should’ve known better. Known better than to feel okay with a storm going on. Known better than to think perfection could completely exist without someone trying to destroy it. I’m reminded, though, when I’m running toward the driveway to hide from Jax and Hunter, who are chasing after me with snowballs in their hands.

When I duck behind Zay’s car, I reach down to grab some snow to make a snowball, but I slam to a halt when I spot footsteps in the snow. I wouldn’t think much of it except the footprints clearly go to the back of the car then turn around. And trailing along with them are a few droplets of what looks like blood, but I’m trying to convince myself it’s wine or something.