Chapter 8 #2
While I’m waiting, I pat down the Snowman’s body and head, smoothing and perfecting the snow. Annie returns with a basket full of different things – there’s a cowboy hat, a scarf, another pair of mittens, a carrot, and two walnuts.
She hands those straight to me, and I lift them up, one in each hand.
“See what I mean?” I say. “There really isn’t very much difference.”
Annie raises an eyebrow. “I think the man drought has lasted so long, Hollie Bright,” she tells me, “that you’ve forgotten what certain things look like.”
I shake my head. “Certain images cannot be erased from my memory,” I say. “I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to.”
“Ew,” Annie gags. “Then you’ve definitely been dating the wrong men.”
“So, what are we using these for? The eyes?”
Annie grins manically, snatches the walnuts from my hands, and positions them fairly centrally in the body of the snowman. Then she grabs the carrot from the basket and adds it too.
I can’t help bursting out laughing. “I didn’t know we were building an X-rated snowman.”
“We’re building our perfect man,” she says, “although…” She considers the carrot. “Could do with a couple of extra inches.”
I take a look. “Yeah,” I say, “definitely. A couple of extra inches.”
Next, we wind the scarf around the snowman’s neck, add the cowboy hat, use some stones we find for the eyes, some sticks for the arms, and another carrot for the nose.
“Jeez,” I say. “I think Mr. Snowman’s nose is bigger than his dick.”
“Poor Mrs. Snowman,” Annie says.
“What the hell is that?” a deep voice sounds behind us, making the two of us jump guiltily.
We were so engrossed in our snowman-making, we never heard the three Alphas creeping up behind us, who are now examining our work with curiosity.
I can’t help blushing. “We’ve been building a snowman,” Annie says, “because Hollie was a snowman virgin.”
My cheeks burn even hotter.
“Mom isn’t going to like that obscenity standing right outside the house,” Clay says.
“Who says it’s an obscenity?” Annie asks. “It’s a piece of art.”
All of our gazes fall to Mr. Snowman’s genitalia.
“If that’s your best artistic interpretation, I’m wondering if you girls have ever been close to a man’s junk before,” Tucker says.
“Yeah, it’s rather on the small side,” Nash adds.
“You can do better, then, hey, Tucker Parker?” Annie asks.
Tucker winks at her. “If you wanna take a look, Annie Jackson, you can make that judgment yourself.”
Clay punches him in the arm hard enough to make him grunt, and Annie reaches down, takes a handful of snow, pats it into a ball, and tosses it straight at Tucker’s face.
“Stop harassing us,” she says. “This is very important work.”
Tucker ducks, and the snowball goes sailing over his head, hitting her brother straight in the face instead.
I can’t help but giggle as he wipes the snow from his eyes and glares at his sister.
“Oh no, you didn’t,” he says.
Annie takes a step backward. “I was aiming at Tucker.”.
“You missed,” Clay tells her.
They’re so busy glaring at each other, neither spots Tucker duck down, make a snowball of his own, and throw it straight at Annie. It hits her on the shoulder and she screeches in outrage.
Then all hell breaks loose. Annie’s scrabbling on the ground for more snow as the three Alphas do the same.
“Hollie!” Annie yells. “Don’t just stand there – help me!”
I’ve never made a snowman before, and I’ve never made snowballs, but I was pretty good at baseball as a kid – and my aim, unlike the rest of my coordination, is pretty darn good.
I scoop up snow and start tossing it at the three Alphas, following Annie’s example. At the same time, snowballs start flying my way. I dodge a couple, but a couple more hit me on the top of my head and one on the arm.
Then Annie’s screaming at me to retreat behind Mr. Snowman for protection. We run that way, cowering behind him and using his body as a shield as we continue to toss snowballs their way.
I wasn’t lying about my aim – I manage to hit Clay right smack in the face again, Tucker on the jaw, and Nash right in the middle of his chest.
Hidden behind the snowman, they’re finding it a lot harder to hit us – but that doesn’t last long, because soon Tucker’s calling for a charge and they’re sprinting toward us.
Annie’s pulled from behind the snowman by Tucker, who drags her down into the snow, as her brother holds a snowball in his hand ready to smush it straight into her face.
“Surrender, little sister,” he says.
“Hey!” I shout at him. “This is cheating!”
“The rules of snowball fights are:” Tucker tells me, “there are no rules.”
“Do you surrender?” Clay asks his little sister once again.
She glares up at him.
“Never!” I scream, and then I’m running toward him and leaping straight up onto his back, shoving ice-cold snow right down the neck of his shirt.
He jolts in surprise, loses his balance, and then the two of us are tumbling down into the snow together. Somehow, in the confusion, the great big Alpha lands right down on top of me.
We’re staring at each other, nose to nose.
It’s the closest I’ve been to a man while vertical in longer than a year.
It’s the closest I’ve been to an Alpha while vertical in forever.