Even as a wolf, that huff is unmistakeable and I shoot him a quick glance. "Don't you laugh at me," I tell him, though I can't fight my smile all the same. I know I must look ridiculous, but that's just part of the fun.

I only stop when he tugs at my jackets and then darts off, disappearing behind the trees a few yards off where he'd left his clothes earlier. "I'm comin'!" I call after him, making my way over.

I resolutely do not think about the fact that Derek's going to be standing behind those trees stark naked in only a matter of seconds, if he's not already. Instead, I focus on worrying about his poor bare feet in the snow and the bite of the chill against his skin. Even his clothes are bound to be frigid at this point, I know. "Next time we do this, I'm gonna bring up one of those insulated foil blankets for your clothes," I tell him, bending over to unsnap my boots from the skis. "And maybe a mat for your feet. I know you'll probably tell me that you're used to it and that your werewolf abilities keep you all nice and toasty, but I can't imagine it feels good to slip into a frigid pair of pants!"