The chill in the mountain air prickled against my cheeks as we walked toward the equipment room. The crunch of snow beneath our boots mixed with the distant sounds of laughter and skis slicing through powder. I
kept my gaze fixed ahead, not daring to look at Zaya for too long. Her silence was louder than words, and it made my nerves worse.
Then she broke it.
"I thought you didn't want my help," she said, her tone smooth but tinged with amusement.
I glanced at her, and there it was that damn smirk. It was equal parts infuriating and distracting, her confidence radiating with an almost maddening ease.
"I don't," I shot back, a little too quickly.
Her smirk widened. "Right. So you're tagging along for the scenery, then?"
"No," I said, glaring at her. "I just…changed my mind."
