Page 41 of Thaw My Heart

He scowls at me.

Alaska clears her throat, breaking up the tension. “How long were you underwater?”

“About three minutes,” Kit answers for me.

She blinks in surprise. “You’re lucky to be alive,” she murmurs to me.

“Very lucky,” Kit glares at me.

“Seems a shame,” I glare right back. “Another minute and you wouldn’t of had to deal with me anymore.”

“Life’s not that kind to me, sadly,” he replies playfully.

I shake my head, smiling with the corner of my mouth, knowing that he doesn’t truly feel that way.

He’s done nothing but care for me since the incident. Carrying me home wrapped in his Carhartt while he wore nothing but a thin, long-sleeved Henley in a snowstorm. Making me peppermint tea. Asking me to never be reckless again—which is a hard promise to make for someone like me.

He hates it, but he cares about me.

“You were crying.”

“Excuse me?” His voice rises.

“You had tears streaming down your face.”

“From the river,” he growls. I smile, and Alaska smiles too, though I can tell she’s trying to remain neutral. “And the sleet.” A tinge of red forms beneath his cheekbones.

“The sleet, right.”

He deeply sighs, almost like a groan, shaking his head.

Alaska moves the stethoscope to my back, and I jolt. My entire body breaks out in a sweat.

“Sorry, it’s probably cold,” Alaska says, breathing hot air over the round silver part.

My leg starts to shake, and my palms begin to sweat as she moves towards me once more. My teeth are ground so hard that my jaw aches. Before she makes a connection between my shoulder blades, I rise abruptly from the couch. “You know what, I’m all good. I don’t think this is necessary.” My arms cross tightly against my chest. My eyes close briefly, trying to clear my mind of the trauma—the feeling of letting someone touch my back. To let someone touch a part of me covered in scars.

I do not like being touched there.

Alaska eyes me wearily as something flashes across her face. Like she can read me better than she lets on, looking at me like she would a wounded animal.

Kit stares at me, confused. “Sadie, what’s wrong⁠—”

“I think Sadie is going to be fine,” Alaska cuts in, rising from the couch, tucking her stethoscope back in her bag. She turns to me with kind eyes. “Your heartbeat sounds strong, but your throat is very swollen. Tea and honey will help. Your complexion looks good. I can’t hear or see anything physically wrong, but you should get a chest X-ray to make sure.”

“She will,” Kit gruffs.

More doctors. Great.

I sigh and nod to Alaska. “Sure thing.”

“Well, that’s all I can do.” She pulls her bag over her shoulder. “If you ever need a vet for Foxie,” she gestures to her, lounging near the fire. “I have a small office in town.”

“Thank you,” I smile. “I appreciate that.”

Kit gently grabs her arm as she approaches him near the door. “Thank you, Alaska. I owe you one.”

Alaska smiles with pink blush in her cheeks, whispering something in his ear before she leaves, and I can’t help but feel jealous for a fraction of a second before she heads out the door, back into the snow.