Elin’s POV

Aaron gripped his phone, face darkening instantly, irritation flaring like he might smash it. “Damn it…”

I sneered, turning on my heel. “I’ll leave you to your call. You two chat—I’ll go pack.”

“Elin!” He rejected the call, striding after me, arms snaking around from behind. His post-workout body radiated heat like a furnace, sweat-damp chest pressing my back, that potent hormone rush crashing over me—pine and snow mingled with his warmth—driving Istha ...