by J. J. Green
It was unusually cold that day, even for Antarctica. Jas’ tears of mirth were already freezing on her cheeks. An icy wind had penetrated her snowsuit as they’d driven over, and she was chilled through. “Oh, come on. I was only kidding. It’s a beautiful igloo. You and Aaron have some real talent. Let’s go inside and warm the place up.”
Sergei slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think I’ll just go in by myself and get toasty, seeing as my Chateau of Sensation isn’t good enough for your refined tastes. You can head on back to your dorm and cuddle up with your roomie instead. Maybe she’s more your type.” He winked at her.
“Don’t be an idiot. Your Love Palace looks great. It really does. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can hardly believe it only took you forty-eight hours to put it together. It would have taken me at least...I don’t know...” She cast her gaze over the comical building. “Forty-eight minutes.”
Sergei’s fake frown had begun to disappear at Jas’ apparent effort at reconciliation, and he’d raised the heater to hand it over, but upon hearing the end of her sentence he snatched it back. Jas made a lunge for the appliance, but Sergei sidestepped her, and she slipped and stumbled.
Laughing, Sergei ran to the other side of his snowmobile and dangled the heater invitingly. Jas scrambled to her feet, slipping again twice, and reached across the vehicle. Sergei turned and sped away. Jas followed, and soon she was right behind him, her long legs carrying her quickly closer. He wasn’t running fast, as if he wanted her to catch him. When she was almost there, Sergei skidded and tumbled down. Jas tripped over him.
The heater skittered across the ground, coming to rest a few meters away. Laughing, they crawled after it, grabbing at each other to slow the other down. Their breath plumed in the frigid air. Both were gasping as they fought to be the first to reach the heater. Jas lunged, and her fingertips brushed the appliance’s edge where it lay upside down.
Sergei grasped her waist and dragged her backward, pulling her underneath him on the slippery surface. He tried to climb over her, but she turned on to her back and pulled him down. As they came face to face, they stopped struggling and their chuckles faded. Their warm, condensing breath intermingled.
Sergei’s intense blue eyes were very close to Jas’. She felt herself disappearing into them. Sergei’s muscles relaxed under her hands as they gazed at each other.
“That’s my heater,” she said softly.
“No, it isn’t,” he murmured. He leaned down to kiss her.
A few moments later, Jas wasn’t cold any longer. The snow at the back of her head was melting and soaking her scalp in icy water, but she hardly noticed.
Sergei drew away from her. “Shall we go inside?”
Jas reached up and pulled his head down to hers again. “In a minute.”
For many years, she remembered that day as the happiest day of her life.
STARBOUND
About the Author
It isn’t easy to look back over a lifetime and pick out the bits that others might find interesting. I was born in a humble home in London’s East End more than half a century ago, but I’m now both British and Australian. I picked up Aussie citizenship after living in Melbourne for many years and working as an Australian Volunteer Abroad. My AVA stint led to some time in Laos before returning to the UK and spending fifteen years or so teaching English to immigrants. Most important to me in all my experiences are my three gorgeous, amazing sons, who graced me with their appearances along the way.
I now live in Taiwan, where the weather suits my clothes, and I spend my days writing about the voices in my head.
Copyright © 2017 J.J. Green
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without written permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First Edition.
