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A blink, and our eyes lock. I’m lost, but she brings me back.
“What do you think?”
It’s our house, a loose approximation, at least, drawn in quick scribble, but recognizable, nonetheless. I know I said it’ll wash off, but shit, do I want it to be permanent. And as Bee smiles up at me, I wonder how long it’ll take for me to want all of this to be permanent.
Bee surprises me by bringing a bright red beanbag out of her room and dropping it to the floor in front of the couch so she can rest her feet on it.
“Is there anything else you’re hiding in there?”
“No.”
“I don’t believe you,” I tease, and watch as pink stains her cheeks.
“Maybe I should find all the hidden things in your room.”
“Go ahead. You might find something you like.”
“I know I would.” If possible, she blushes darker. Fucking hell. I need to change direction fast. “So, when do I read your book?”
“Oh, um…”
“You could read it to me.”
“Oh no. That’s way worse.”
“If you say so.”
I’ve found that Bee’s silences are louder than most people’s. She’s leading what I’m learning is a double life as both the person she presents in order to make others happy and the Bee she becomes when she’s making herself happy.
“Okay.”
I smile, distracted, because the hem of her shorts has ridden up and the pale stretch of her legs is in stark contrast to the red abomination she’s resting her feet on.
“Hey, Sebastian? Thank you. This really means a lot to me.”
In the spirit of honesty—because only a hypocrite would ask for it and not give it in return—I decide to lay some of my cards on the table.
“I meant what I said before. This is your house too. I want you to feel comfortable here. And, selfishly, I like spending time with you. We should do this more often.”
“No more hiding in my room, huh?”
I hand the remote to Bee. “No more hiding at all. I want to see you, Bee. All of you.”
“I’ll try. And, uh, for the record, I like spending time with you too. Always have.”
The next ten minutes are a blur while I try not to overanalyze her comment. I do catch myself staring at the house on my arm repeatedly, though.
8
BEE
I wake uneasy.
My secret’s out.
Sebastian knows about the book. And unlike Morgan, he won’t be distracted from bringing it up again. I could see it, the determination carved into the lines around his eyes. The set of his jaw.
He’s going to remember this, and it won’t be a secret anymore.
