‘Jesus, I was just offering a friendly ear, that’s all. Do what you want.’

I went to walk away but he softly grabbed my arm, pulling me close to him. I looked up at him, felt his fingers like ice on my arm. ‘I just don’t want you tainted with it all, do you understand?’ he said in a harsh whisper, eyes exploring my face. ‘You turn up out of nowhere, fucking beautiful and strong and clever, and I don’t want that all tainted.’

‘I’m not perfect, you know,’ I whispered.

‘I know.’ He reached down, stroking my cheek with his freezing thumb. ‘Neither of us is perfect, both of us have something inside we’re struggling with. But I don’t want my family’s struggle to be added to yours.’

‘Why is your sister so upset? What happened out there?’ I asked, staring at the lake.

‘We all have our secrets,’ he shot back. ‘And I can sense you know that as much as I do.’

I looked into his eyes, suddenly tempted to tell him everything. But I didn’t. Instead, I reached up and traced his beard with my finger. Ice was starting to fringe its dark bristles and his long eyelashes.

‘You’re cold,’ I said.

I moved closer to him and he to me. I placed my hand on his cheek, felt the arch of his strong cheekbones. Then I impulsively stood on tiptoes and pressed my cold lips against his even colder ones. He wrapped his bear arms around me and moved his lips against mine, the warmth inside me radiating out to him. In the distance, the loch shone beneath the moonlight, as menacing as it was beautiful.

I woke the next morning to the memory of Dylan’s cold lips against mine mingling with the smell of cinnamon and spice coming from downstairs. Had I dreamt the night before? It had that dreamlike quality, the snow and a mind blurry with sleep. I grappled with the fog surrounding my memory of the kiss. After, we’d both stepped apart from each other, shivering from the cold. Then lights had come on in the house and that was it. Dylan and I had gone upstairs, one brief look passing between us before we went our separate ways.

I stretched, turning over to look through the gap in the curtains at the snowy landscape. My room faced out towards the loch, but I could see a glimpse of mountain stretched to the right. The sky was puffy white with a hint of pink, promising more snow. I’d seen a lot of snow while working, but rarely had I been without a camera. I felt a sense of contentment as I pressed my cheek back into the soft pillow, taking it all in.

Then I remembered: it was Christmas Day.

I sat back up, hugging my shins and resting my chin on my knees.