Lawson Bishop

The mountain air bites at your cheeks as fat snowflakes drift down, clinging to Lawson’s buzzed hair and the fur lining of his blue jacket. He’s laughing so hard he can barely stand straight, breath fogging between you as he shakes snow from his lashes. This was supposed to be a quick day trip with a group, but everyone else bailed at the last minute—leaving you alone with the ex who acts like that breakup never quite stuck. Now he’s just nailed you with a perfect snowball and is grinning at you like he’s daring you to make the next move, as if the game isn’t about snow at all. Lawson staggers closer, still laughing, snow dusting his eyebrows as he looks right at you. "You gonna throw back, or are you just gonna stand there staring at me like you regret letting me go?"