Page 77 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell

The place was built into the cliff itself with arched ceilings of black volcanic rock, walls glowing with thin veins of orange light that looked like magma running just beneath the surface. Steam curled through the air, laced with citrus and sandalwood.

“This might be how I fucking die,” Collin said, pulling at his collar. “In a billionaire sauna.”

Ash inhaled deeply. “That’s Himalayan salt mist. It’s cleansing your lungs.”

“Feels like it’s melting them,” he muttered, sitting on a heated basalt bench. “Jesus,” his eyes widened, trying to keep himself in check while adjusting to the sudden temperature increase.

“Quit being a little bitch, Collin,” Jake said, relaxing like he’d invented the place. “The temperature’s perfect. One twenty-five. You just breathe into it and let the tension go.”

Avery eyed him. “You have this memorized?”

“My favorite pastime,” he said with a smug grin.

“It’s actually not so bad,” I said.

Jake grinned. “Told you. It’s that fire and ice effect. It’s the reset button for your nervous system. Every pulse of heat floods your body with oxygen and dopamine. You leave the room high on your own biology.”

“Or dehydrated as fuck,” Collin said, leaning back.

I sat beside Avery. The bench radiated warmth straight through the robe; the air was thick, humming. She brushed her hair off her neck, eyes half-lidded from the heat, and for a moment, I stopped pretending this was about wellness.

Ash closed her eyes and stretched her arms. “Breathe through your chest,” she said. “In… out…”

Collin cracked one eye open. “God.”

Jake laughed. “You’ll be thanking him later.”

Avery exhaled slowly. “It’s actually kind of amazing,” she admitted. “Feels like everything’s unclenching.”

“Exactly, sister,” Jake said. “The tension leaves your body, and blood starts moving again?—”

“Stop describing it like an anatomy textbook,” Collin interrupted. “You’re killing the vibe.”

“I’m educating you,” Jake countered.

“You’re terrifying me. You’re a tad bit too into this shit, dude,” Collin said.

Laughter echoed off the stone walls, the sound low and easy, softened by steam.

After a while, Ash stood. “Okay, now we’re moving into the scent-immersion next door,” she said, slipping her hand into Jake’s. “Ten minutes, and then cold towels with crushed mint.”

Collin groaned. “Mint towels?” He eyed Jake. “What the fuck do you two really get up to with your kinks these days?”

“Apparently a fuck-ton more than you,” he shot back.

Once they were gone, the room fell still. Only the gentle hiss of steam and the faint trickle of water from somewhere within the walls remained. Avery leaned back against the stone, eyesclosed, a thin sheen of heat glistening across her collarbone. “Do you think this is all ridiculous?”

“I think this shit better be everything my brother seems to worship,” I said, taking her hand to help her up.

She wrapped herself around me, and I couldn’t resist bending down to kiss her lips. The air between us thickened, not just from the heat. Her hand slipped through my hair, holding me close as I kissed her deeply.

The overhead lights dimmed automatically, the amber glow deepening into a molten orange. Outside the chamber, I could hear muffled laughter from the others and the soft sound of doors closing as attendants prepped the subsequent treatment.

“We better follow the rest, or I’m going to take you right here and now,” I said after ending our delicious kiss.

We stepped through the archway together, heat curling at our backs and cool air waiting just beyond. As we stepped out of the heat and into the quiet corridor, cool air spilled over us like relief. The world felt sharper and every breath cleaner, every sound more distinct.

Maybe there was some truth to Jake’s theory of bullshit after all. The cold, the heat, the stillness—all of it stripped away the noise until there was only her. Avery. Laughing, flushed, alive.