“Your new year, your choice,” I said. But even as I said it, I wondered how true that would be. Even if we could get out of here, Benny wanted me to bring her to him. Was I still on contract with him at this point, or did the whole getting stuck thing negate all that? I needed to get paid and make sure that Ivy had a home for another month. But I also …
She huffed with a nod.
“Is that your New Year’s resolution?” I asked.
“I guess so. I didn’t put it like that in my head, but sure. New Year, New Bee. But it’s not about attention,” she explained after a moment. “Well, I guess that’s exactly what it is. But attention defined my way.”
“You’ll never be able to control how people see you,” I said more fiercely than I meant. I could tell because her gaze faltered on me for a fraction of a second.
“But I can control that theydosee me,” she said.
I let her words sink in. This was really important to her. This lovely woman, so determined, so funny and strange in the best way. I never could have imagined this was her plan when I foundher cutting her hair tonight, but she continued to impress me. She had a plan to change.
At least she wasn’t content to hide who she was.
There was a freedom being stuck up here. I liked talking to Bee. I hadn’t liked talking to anybody in a long time. But I liked it here. With her. I felt free to be heard and was actually listened to. She didn’t see me as a big dumb lug.
“I’m not sure what it says about me that this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” I said without thinking.
She tensed and turned toward me, slow and menacing.
“Is it surprising that you’re having fun with me? Did you know I existed before tonight?” I opened my mouth to defend my comments, but she wouldn’t let me speak. “Why would anybody think somebody dressed like a kindergarten teacher could be a good time?” She sat up straighter, her brow furrowing as she found fuel for her speech. “And tell me, why is that the epitome of an insult? That I dress like a stereotypical kindergarten teacher? Teachers are patient and kind and put up with more crap than most people. So what if pretty colors make me happy? So do clothes that are comfortable while stylish. I like rainbows and sparkly things. Do I have the temper of a toddler on a good day? Yes, I do. But that doesn’t make me unintelligent. I feel things quickly and deeply and move on. It’s better than repressing everything like most people. Just because I like simple things or pretty things doesn’t mean I’m not complicated. It doesn’t mean I don’t feel hurt when I’m looked over or brushed aside. I like who I am and how I dress.”
“Bee.” I couldn’t take any more. I wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her just to stop the defensive rant.
“Society hates a contented woman.” She shook her head. “No. Worse than that. They don’t even see her.”
“Bee!” I yelled to be heard.
I was equal parts terrified and turned on.
“What?” she yelled back.
“I see you,” I said, setting my hands on her shoulders slowly. She had been breathing heavily, but when I said that, her whole body froze. She went statue-still. I lowered my voice and rubbed my thumbs in soothing circles on her shoulders. “I like you. I’m having a nice time with you. That’s what I was trying to say. I meant even though we are trapped in a tram, verging on turning into human popsicles, I’m enjoying myself with you. That’s why I said that.”
“Oh.” She licked her lips. “Sorry. I think I need a snack.” She took a deep breath in and relaxed again. “I like talking to you too.”
“Good. I don’t talk to people much.” I pushed some hair back that got stuck to her lashes when she went off on her rant. She watched my action with wide, hesitant eyes.
“Really?” Surprise was written on her features. “I don’t either, truthfully. Outside of work.” She gauged my reaction as she spoke.
This was the first time I felt myself wanting totalk. The first time I felt like there weren’t enough hours in the day for everything I wanted to say to her and hear her talk about in return. There couldn’t be enough time, not when I was also desperate to occupy her lips.
But what did she feel? What did she want?
“All things considered, I’m having a nice time.”
“Me too,” she said. She rubbed her lips together, straightening so our faces were close again. It would be so easy to lean in and test the softness of her mouth.
With each passing second, I forgot why I shouldn’t be kissing her.
Chapter 12
Bee
After a night filledwith one embarrassing moment after another—getting caught cutting my hair, having to be tossed around like a tantrumming toddler, accidentally flashing my whole boob—it made very little sense to me why sharing my plans to ski down The Slope was the thing that made me go hot with shame. I had done my Bee thing and got defensive because I’d been on edge, waiting to be mocked. But why? Owen had been nothing but gentle and understanding, but that scared part of me could not let go of the feeling that it wasn’t real. It was all a setup to let me down.
Don’t get attached. Don’t hold on to hope.
