Emily pressed a cigarette between her lips and took a long drag before wrapping her arms around herself. It was a small comfort against the frigidness of Blackwood Pines, so bitter that it seeped through her fur-lined coat and cashmere sweater to her skin. Normally, the cold was enough to keep her from smoking during a stay at the Washington's lodge, but she found herself feeling more agitated than normal and took to the habit anyway. She tried her hardest to convince herself that the feeling had everything to do with Mike's pestering her to play spin-the-bottle and nothing to do with the way his attention then fixated on a slightly drunk Jess.

Emily took another drag, then leaned against the back deck's railing. It wasn't as if it meant anything. Mike was a flirt and, with six girls in the mix, the object of his affection was always flipping around. She just happened to not like it when said object was Jess. Wasn't like that meant anything either, she told herself again, crushing the butt of her cigarette into the snow on the railing.

"Hands up where I can see them! This is the police! The party police, and I hear someone's being a big, grumpy sourpuss."

Emily turned on her heel. "Really, Jess? The party police?"

Jess smiled from ear to ear, one of those genuine smiles that made Emily's stomach churn. She scooped up a mound of snow from the deck and started to pack it between both hands.

"Yep. I have the very important job of making sure everyone's having fun, and there's no way you're having fun out here by yourself."

"What do you think you're doing?" Emily questioned slowly, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing Jess' hands. "I swear to fucking god, Jess. Don't you dare throw that snowba—!"

Emily shrieked as snow exploded against her jacket and, somewhere past her screaming, she swore she could hear the distinctly bell-like sound of Jess' laughter.

"Oh my god! This coat is suede, meaning can't get wet," Emily seethed in her most condescending tone.

Jess skipped across the deck, pigtail braids bouncing against her shoulders. She shimmied her way past Emily and hopped onto the railing. "Huh, didn't know that. Maybe I could make it up to you."

Now that Jess was closer, Emily could smell the reek of alcohol on her breath and see the rosy flush in her cheeks. Her eyes were heavier than usual too, gaudy, shimmery eyeshadow staring Emily in the face. It seemed like Jess was drunker than she was when Emily left her. As Jess wrapped her arms around Emily's neck and pulled her closer, Emily realized she was definitely much, much drunker.

"What the hell? Get off," Emily snapped, admittedly with much less venom than the situation probably called for.

Disgusted, she tried to maneuver out of Jess' arms, but the blonde only drew her nearer and she somehow ended up with a pair of petite legs folded around her waist as well.

"I thought you wanted me to make it up to you." She pouted, sliding her hands down Emily's back. Sharply scented breath curled against Emily's nose, but she refused to flinch. "I thought I felt something."

"Yeah, it's probably all that vodka hitting your brain because you're outta your fucking mi—"

"No," Jess said, frustration knitting her brows. "I meant between us. I see the way you look at me when I'm with Mike. I know you want me. And I want you."

Emily felt her stomach drop. "Jess," she tried to say, but the name got muddled on her tongue as Jess met her lips in a sloppy mash of skin and teeth.

Emily pulled out of Jess' hold, aggressively this time, and nearly caused the blonde to topple forward from the movement.

"Hey!" Jess whined.

"We're not doing this," Emily growled, voice low. "Not like this. We're not in high school anymore. I'm done playing your kiss-and-forget games."

Emily ran her thumb along her lips, rubbing Jess' cherry gloss from them. She straightened her coat before placing a hand on the door's handle, ready to leave behind the night's events, when she decided to look over her shoulder one last time.

"Talk to me when you're sober, Jess."