Page 8 of Jessa & Jaxon (What Happens In Vegas #1)

The snow sparkles under the early morning sun as I dig the shovel into another dense pile beside JJ’s sedan. The physical labor feels good after being cooped up inside, though memories of the last few days bring a smile to my face.

I had her again and again in the past couple of days. But instead of feeling satiated, I am hungry for more.

Things changed between us, but I’m not na?ve enough to think she’s fully mine. Not yet.

JJ is careful. She doesn’t give trust easily, and that makes every inch of ground I’ve gained with her feel like a victory. The way she looked at me, the way she allowed me to possess her means something.

And if I know anything, it’s how to capitalize on an opening. I shove the thoughts aside and focus on digging her car out of the snow.

Steam rises from my breath as I clear another section around her car. The storm has passed, but it’s left behind a transformed world.

Snow blankets the cars, the street and buildings. It’s heavy, wet, and nearly knee-deep in most places. The city remains silent, as if still holding its breath after the storm’s fury.

The plows haven’t made it to this side street yet. I can hear their distant rumble on the main roads, but here, we might as well be in a snow globe, isolated in our own winter wonderland.

A sudden impact between my shoulder blades makes me jerk upright.

I turn slowly and find JJ standing near my crushed car. She’s bundled in a puffy jacket that makes her look twice her size, and a bright blue knit hat is pulled low over her ears. She’s sunk nearly to her knees in snow, her boots covered from the effort of wading through the white expanse.

“Did you just throw a snowball at me?” I ask.

“Me? Never.” Her innocent expression is betrayed by the telltale red of her gloved hands dusted with snow.

“Uh-huh.” I bend down, casually scooping snow into my gloved hand. “Because it felt like someone declared war.”

“You wouldn’t,” she challenges, but she’s already backing up, her movements labored as she struggles through the deep snow.

“Wouldn’t I?” I pack the snow tight, my eyes never leaving her.

She squeals and attempts to duck behind my car, but the deep snow turns her quick escape into a comical, high-kneed trudge. My snowball sails past where she stood moments before, disappearing into the drift behind her.

I crouch behind her car, gathering ammunition. The snow is perfect for snowballs—wet enough to hold together, but not so slushy it falls apart.

“You know I’m going to win this, right?”

“Big talk from a man who just missed!” Her voice comes from somewhere to my left.

I peek around the bumper just in time to see another snowball flying toward me. I dodge, but not fast enough. It clips my shoulder, exploding in a spray of white.

“Two points for me!” she crows.

“Oh, it’s on now.” I launch myself from behind the car, snowball in hand.

JJ shrieks and attempts to run, but her movements are slow and cumbersome. Her boots leave deep impressions as she struggles forward, sinking with each step.

I pursue, finding it only marginally easier with my longer, stronger legs. Each step requires effort, lifting my knees high to clear the snow’s surface, then plunging down into the cold white mass.

Just as I’m about to catch her, my foot hits a patch of ice hidden beneath the snow. I slide, arms windmilling, before regaining my balance.

She uses my momentary stumble to her advantage, pelting me with a rapid-fire series of snowballs she must have prepared while I was shoveling.

“That’s cheating!” I call out, laughing as I advance on her while shielding my face from the icy projectiles.

“Payback for monopoly.”

I lunge forward, struggling through the deep powder to grab her around the waist before she can throw another snowball. She squeals as I lift her off her feet, spinning her in a circle.

“Put me down!” she demands, but she’s laughing too hard to sound threatening.

“Admit defeat first,” I counter, holding her firmly against my chest.

“Never.” She squirms in my grasp, trying to break free.

I lose my footing and we both go down, landing in a particularly deep snowdrift with her on top of me. Snow billows around us in a white cloud, some of it falling back onto our faces.

We stare at each other, breathing hard. Her cheeks are flushed with cold and exertion, snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes and dusting her dark coily hair where they’ve escaped her hat. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

“You surrender yet?”

“Not a chance.”

I chuckle. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep wearing you down.”

Reaching up, I brush snow from her face. I lift my head and press my mouth to hers. Her lips are cold, but they quickly warm under the leisurely onslaught of mine. The contrast of the frigid air around us and the heat building between our bodies is intoxicating.

I savor the moment, loving how her lips welcome me, how she feels in my arms. When I finally pull back, her eyes flutter open and I can’t resist leaning in for another kiss.

We lie there, half-buried in snow, trading lazy kisses and quiet laughs, neither of us caring about the cold seeping through our layers. I forget about the outside world, about contracts and deadlines and the life waiting beyond snow-covered streets.

Right now, it’s just us. And I’m not ready for that to change.

Eventually, though, the cold becomes impossible to ignore. JJ shivers against me, her earlier exertion no longer enough to keep her warm.

“We should head inside,” I say against her temple. “Before hypothermia sets in.”

She nods, reluctantly pushing herself up. The movement sends more snow cascading down her coat and into her collar, making her yelp.

“Now I remember why I don’t engage in snowball fights,” she says, brushing at her snow-covered clothes.

I stand, pulling her against me. We’re both soaked from the knees down, our gloves and sleeves wet from the snow.

“Was it worth it?”

Her smile is answer enough. “Maybe.”

I guide her up the four flights of stairs to her apartment, one hand at the small of her back, enjoying the feel of her in my arms. Throwing open her front door, I spot the glowing overhead lights.

“The power’s back.”

I don’t like it. The roads will clear soon and this little snowstorm bubble we’ve been living in will come to an end.

“Thank heavens,” she breathes, immediately heading for the thermostat to turn up the heat. “I was starting to think we’d never have electricity again.”

I close the door behind us, already shedding my wet outer layers. “We were running low on candles, anyway.”

JJ makes a beeline for the TV remote while I put my phone on the charger.

“... authorities urging residents to stay off the roads unless absolutely necessary,” the anchor is saying. “Crews are working around the clock, but many side streets remain impassable. Schools will remain closed through at least Wednesday, possibly longer depending on conditions.”

JJ and I exchange a look. “Wednesday? That’s three more days,” she says.

“Looks like we’re stuck with each other a little longer,” I observe, watching her carefully for her reaction.

Her expression gives little away, but the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth tells me all I need to know. “I think I can manage.” She stands, plucking at her wet clothes. “But not in these. I’m freezing.”

While JJ showers, I check my messages. Dozens of emails and a few texts from Kamal and Antonio, checking in. I send quick responses, letting everyone know I’m fine but snowed in.

When JJ emerges from the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy robe, her hair piled atop her head, I’m still engrossed in catching up on work correspondence.

“Your turn,” she says, gesturing to the bathroom. “I left you a clean towel.”

The hot shower is blissful after the cold. I take my time, letting the steam and heat melt away the last of the chill from our snow adventure. By the time I emerge wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, I feel human again.

I find JJ at the dining table, surrounded by papers, face screwed up in concentration. She’s changed into leggings and an oversized sweater, her feet bare despite the lingering chill in the apartment.

“What’s all this?” I ask, gesturing to the spread of documents.

She looks up, startled, as if she’d forgotten I was here. “Oh, um, just some work stuff. I have to prepare for an interview.”

I move closer, curious. “Interview? Are you looking for a new job?”

She hesitates, then sighs. “Vice principal position. At my school. The current VP is retiring at the end of the year, and they’re interviewing internal candidates first.”

This is news to me. “I didn’t know you were interested in administration.”

“It’s always been the plan,” she admits, shuffling papers nervously. “Teach for ten years, move into administration, eventually become a principal and then possibly superintendent. The timeline’s a bit accelerated—I’ve only been teaching for five years—but the opportunity’s too good to pass up.”

I sit across from her, genuinely impressed. “That’s amazing, JJ. When’s the interview?”

“Next Monday. Assuming the roads are clear by then.” She grimaces.

“Let me help,” I offer, reaching for one of the papers on the table.

She snatches it away. “You?”

“I own a billion-dollar company,” I remind her. “I interview people for a living. I know what makes a candidate stand out.”

“This is different from corporate hiring.”

“The fundamentals are the same. Confidence. Clear communication. Evidence of past success.” I lean forward, challenging her with my gaze. “Let me help, JJ.”

After a moment’s consideration, she slides a sheet toward me. “These are the expected questions. I’ve been drafting responses.”

I scan the list, noting the expected mix of experience questions, scenario-based problems, and leadership philosophy inquiries. “Standard stuff. What are you most worried about?”

She chews her lip, an endearing gesture she does when thinking deeply. “The leadership questions, I think. I have plenty of classroom experience, but my leadership roles have been limited. Committee work, some department coordination.”

“Tell me about your leadership philosophy,” I prompt, slipping into interview mode. “What kind of leader would you be as Vice Principal?”

She straightens, switching into a more professional posture that fascinates me. It’s like watching her put on armor.

“I believe educational leadership should be collaborative and student-centered,” she begins, her voice taking on a confident cadence.

“Administrators should support teachers so they can do their best work, which ultimately benefits students. I’d focus on open communication, evidence-based decision making, and creating a culture where everyone feels valued and heard. ”

I nod, impressed. She doesn’t half-ass anything. Not work, not arguments, not even avoiding me when she wants to. And that’s why I know she’s going to get this job—because no one could do it better than her.

“Good. Now give me a specific example of how you’ve demonstrated that philosophy in your current role.”

As she launches into an example about restructuring her department’s curriculum approach, I watch her come alive. Her hands gesture expressively, her eyes bright with passion for her work. It’s captivating.

“What?” she asks, breaking off mid-sentence when she notices my focused stare.

I lean back in my chair, watching her with undisguised appreciation. “Nothing,” I say. “I like watching you when you’re in control. It’s... attractive.”

JJ clears her throat, shuffling papers unnecessarily. “Focus, Jaxon. You’re supposed to be helping me prepare, not... whatever that look is.”

“What look?” I ask innocently, though we both know exactly what look I’m giving her.

“The one that says you’re thinking about taking off my clothes instead of asking interview questions.”

I don’t bother with denying it. “I can multitask. Next question.”