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“You look beautiful, Frosty,” she says, a soft smile playing with her lips.

My heartbeat is in my ears. “You too.”

“Thank you,” she chimes. “Shall we go?”

Her hand hangs between us once she’s extended it toward me. I take it, my middle tightening at the contact as I shove down a shiver.

“Do you want to bring a jacket?” I ask.

The house is silent, and every clap of her shoes on the floor echoes. Silence has never bothered me so much before. Usually, I like it. It means I’m not being forced to speak with someone I don’t want to. Yet, with Daisy, I’d speak about anything if it meant it was her voice I was hearing.

“If I did, then you wouldn’t get to offer yours to me when we leave Peakside tonight,” she teases.

We move into the front room, and I bend to slip on my right boot. “So you want me to freeze instead?”

Her laugh is bright and clear, taking my question as the joke I intended it to be despite the poor execution. I swallow a whimper of pain when I roll my sock up over my tattoo and shove my foot into the other boot. The boots are well broken in, but I’ve never worn them with a fresh ankle tattoo before.

“It’s not my fault your jacket looks so warm and inviting,” she says, opening the front door for me to walk through first.

“I hardly ever wear it.”

“Well, then it can be like a letterman jacket. I’ve always wanted to wear one of those.”

I stand beside her on the porch and lock up before we start our walk. “They smell like sweat. You haven’t missed much.”

“Let me guess—you dated a jock in high school?”

My laugh comes out of my nose. “Fat fucking chance. I messed around with one, though. Wore the jacket once with nothing beneath it.”

“So you went for jocks, and I went for their cheerleaders.”

“I didn’t think Cherry Peak even had cheerleaders,” I say.

Daisy swings her arms at her sides, every bit of her appearing as joyful as usual. That sates me, somehow. Knowing that her time with me this past week hasn’t caused her to act any differently.

“Has Johnny ever told you that I used to do track and field?”

I glance at her, surprised. “No.”

“I did a lot of high jump and hurdles and went with the school team to regionals in twelfth grade. Calgary cares a bit more about sports than we do here, and that’s where I met the cheerleaders,” she explains, the humour in her voice also lining her lips with a devilish smile.

“You used the school trip to get laid, then.”

A slight pain blooms in my side when she leans over and jabsme with her fingers. “Don’t say it like that. It makes me sound dirty!”

“Who knew innocent Daisy Mitchell was such a perv.” I cluck my tongue and watch as her neck pinkens. “We’ve got a real Cherry Peak scandal on our hands.”

“I’m notthatinnocent, just for your information,” she clarifies.

“Apparently not. Tell me something else to help your case.”

“Help my case? Am I being graded on my perv level right now? Are you approving of my actions after all?”

“I never said that, Sunshine.”

Daisy licks her lips, and I watch the entire motion of her tongue as it slips over every pink inch of them.

“But you’re thinking it,” she counters.