I untangle a hand from my pocket and wipe off a couple stray snowflakes from my face, my gaze flickering between the path leading back to the warmth and safety of my parents’ home, and Porter Eldin. I nibble my lower lip and bounce on my toes. “If you’re sure…”
His smile grows warmer and his posture relaxes. There’s nothing threatening about him; he holds his hands by his side, showing me his palms, but he doesn’t come any closer. “I am,” he says.
I nod and take a tentative step forward. Why the heck not? It’s not my battle anyway—I can’t fight what I don’t know—and if he’s serious…
As I approach, he brushes off the hood with his hand, revealing his face, and I stutter a breath. Dang, he’s grown up nice. When he’s not hunched over, he’s tall—an inch or two over my own six-feet-one—and m
